Dude Finding Dropboxes Of Deleted Sterek Fics Sent Me Into A Whole Different State Of Mind…

i read this one every weekend.

you’re welcome.

No Homo by orphan_account

what’s the best sterek fanfic you’ve ever read?

my dumbass listens to sad music and then my dumbass wonders why i’m sad

I looove that Sam is taller than Dean. It calls attention to just how fucked up their dynamic is.

It was cute how he looked up to Dean as a kid. But now that he’s a grown man, still following around his big brother?

It’s a visual reminder that he’s cramming himself into a role he should have outgrown years ago. They both are.

I guess that’s why I like to read so much.

I’m alone a lot, and for the most part I don’t hate it- with my father’s Appalachian genetics I have realized that I am probably better equipped for that than most people. But I also recognize that isolation isn’t beneficial to me as a human, and sometimes I can feel it squeezing me from all sides, my social skills leaking away from the applied pressure. My lips dry out and glue themselves shut. When I’m reading a book I have another person’s voice with me for a week or so, and that can feel like a kind of warmth. As if I have a visitor.

— Nitya Prakash

forcing yourself to love the little things.

going outside and being miserable. just to have said that you went outside that day.

listening to music that makes your teeth clench.

wearing clothes that squeeze you too tight so you can look put together.

it’s a ruse. it’s a cover up. it’s a poor excuse for a life. but fuck- at least i’m trying to live it?

Leila Chatti, from “Tea”

wincestiel this, wincestiel that, but have you ever considered Dean using Castiel to get at Sam.

He goads him into his first kiss and uses his baby brother as a means for practice. I mean shit- Sammy can kiss, okay? He’s no virgin.

Cas is trusting, trusts no one but Dean so he lets himself be lured in. Thrusting his tongue into Sam’s small mouth under Deans heavy gaze. He gives them pointers here and there.

Sam’s neck is arched up all sexy. Moles and strain evident as its muscles move with his lips. Dean has to put his mouth on it. They’re all just fooling around, it’s nothing weird. Think of it as a little added fun.

Suddenly it’s Deans tongue in sam’s mouth as he lays it all on him and they’re horizontal on the bed. Humping at each other like dogs. Fucking each other everywhere, especially brain-wise.

They come up for air and Cas isn’t even in the room anymore. It’s just heavy panting and belt buckles clinking as they pack up their spent dicks.

It’s another motel the next time it happens, and it’s just the two of them.

… yeah.

"Can't two guys be just friends?" If they stop looking at each other like that then sure

In my dreams, your hair is still blond, even though it’s clearly brunette in your instagram profile picture. I stare at it after I wake up, glancing at the lock to show your posts are private. You still smile openly. It says “kate,” but that was never your nickname when I knew you.

I still know you, I know your smile. It’s the same and I know this because you go from 16 in my dreams to 22 in that silly picture. You’re holding a dog, but it’s not your poodle. I wonder his name and wish you still send silly snaps that I learned Bob’s name from. I stare at that too. It’s ugly.

The bitmoji, I mean. Never you. You were the beautiful one between the two of us. I remember staring at you studying for hours, it’s always after you finish quieting my sobs. I hate my family, you were more a sister to me. You were more than a sister to me.

We stopped talking because you sent nudes to the guy I liked. I never liked him, I never liked the way he saw you naked. Before I got to. And wasnt that sick? That I would wonder when you’d be comfortable enough to show me something up close like your chest. It didn’t seem as personal seeing as you lived inside of mine.

Your name isn’t “Kate.” You don’t like weiner dogs, they remind you of sausage and you’re a vegetarian. You love volkswagen beetles, but theres a jeep behind you. You also hate profile pictures. When I meant more to you, it was a picture of us. We were covering our face in my backyard. Being silly teens, and we printed it out at school just because we wanted proof.

I want proof of you. I imagine you under me, arms wrapped around my neck as I breathe onto your chest. You rub your hands over my hair, whispering how much you’ve missed me. I missed you more, and I prove it with my tongue. I claim you and keep you under me, protected and safe. Away from boys, the world, my family. Away from a world where I stare at your private instagram profile at 4 in the morning and I’ve got work in 3 hours and my hand’s aching and I want you back even as my best friend and you’re at college upstate and I could just drive the 6 hours and scare you or i could simply message the number that I hope is still yours with a “hi.” I don’t text you at all.

I live quietly until the ache comes back, and I open instagram on my phone again.

When I think about my ex best friend and wish I could tell her everything going on in my life again.