#dylantyler

[winchestergifs]

suspended on main once again;

was bound to happen at some point. friends + mutuals please reach me here or on my other other blog @dylantyler

meanwhile i will be here with steam pouring out my ears until these assholes answer my emails. probably not gonna make new posts though since i can’t reblog them. 

[mieczlw-a]

bonus : 

[lozenger8]

an empty space you left behind

Inspired by this gifset and written for @dylantyler. Title from ‘Missing U’ by Robyn, because it’s a great song and ‘strumming my pain with his fingers’ was somehow even less subtle.

On Tuesday, Stiles launches from the side of the screen to the center with a guitar neck clutched firmly in his hand and a manic grin planted firmly on his face. 

“What did you do?”

“It was sitting there all innocent and lonely at the pawn shop, Scotty. It cost me like five shifts’ worth, if that. I spent more on that jacket last month. Listen. I already know some songs.”

That jacket? Scott has fond memories of Stiles modeling it for him. It hugged his wide shoulders, making them seem even wider, and accentuated the slimness of his waist. It’s a very attractive jacket. Scott likes it very much. Scott sits through two excruciating renditions of Three Little Birds and Hound Dog, heart thumping louder than usual - loud enough he worries Stiles could hear it - as he watches Stiles’ tongue, peeking out the side of his mouth. 

Oh. This is Not Great.

“Good try!” Scott says, because he doesn’t like to lie to Stiles and he cannot praise the actual playing. “Keep at it.”

Stiles beams at him. There’s no way he can’t tell Scott’s being diplomatic, but at the same time, he doesn’t seem to care he’s nowhere near a Hendrix. 

“I’m gonna!”

*

On a Saturday weeks later, the guitar is on the bed as Stiles is chatting to Scott about blood spatter patterns, and Scott can’t stop his eyes from wandering to it. Stiles catches him after one gruesome retelling of the blood spatter from a women whose wife had used an electric drill post-mortem. He squints, glances from the bed back to Scott.

“You wanna hear my progress?”

“Anything other than the continued adventures of Denise the Dentist, yeah, dude,” Scott says, wincing. 

Scott rolls his shoulders and sucks in a few deep breaths as he watches Stiles reach over and grab the guitar in an ungainly sprawl. Stiles’ shirt rides up and Scott resolutely refuses to stare at the strip of skin above his boxers and the hem of his shirt. The pale skin with two, no, three moles. The treasure trail that used to make Scott jealous.

He fails. 

“I know nine chords,” Stiles says, holding the guitar with a far more natural position than the last time. “I can play them with more than thirty seconds between each change.”

“You sound like you’ve actually been practicing.”

“I have. Every day. Who knew I could attain a talent?”

“You already had plenty of talents,” Scott counters.

“Yeah,” Stiles scoffs, “That were already inherent in me being me. A loud mouth, insatiable curiosity, and ability to piss off all minority and majority groups. Talents, sure, but nothing I learned.”

Scott frowns a deliberate frown. “You don’t really think that’s true, do you?”

“No, of course not,” Stiles says, scrabbling for a pick on his desk, gesturing wildly when he successfully lifts it. He mutters the next part, but Scott still hears it. “I know it is.”

Stiles plays him ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’, and it isn’t what Scott would call capable or even intermediate playing, but Stiles even sings along and seems really into it, so Scott can’t help but be thoroughly charmed anyway. Plus, Stiles’ long, strong-looking fingers against the fret-board have been doing all sorts of things to Scott’s entire body. 

His face smiles against his own volition. “That was super cute, buddy.”

“That’s the first time you ever called me cute.”

Maybe to his face.

*

On a lazy Friday evening, spent indoors rather than out partying, Stiles plays Scott, ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’. It’s beautiful and Scott surreptitiously wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. Unfortunately, nothing is surreptitious when Stiles is involved. 

“They weren’t tears of ear-splitting pain, were they?”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if they were, you know that,” Scott says. But he shakes his head. “But no, it’s just one of those songs that always gets me.” Scott gestures at his chest.

It’s true, not a word of a lie, but he was also imagining Stiles singing this song to him for real, not just to show off, and it hurts to know that’s not going to happen any time soon. Probably not ever. Scott resolved himself to that after Stiles decided to go to Washington rather than stay with him, but... but it still sounds out like a discordant note inside his heart.

*

Monday morning a few months later, Stiles texts Scott to ask if he’ll be a sounding board for his rendition of, ‘Fix You’. Scott listens as he writes a paper, swaying from side to side. Stiles has gotten so good he plays with minimal breaks. Scott’s a mixture of proud and sorrow-filled that he hasn’t seen the improvement in person. 

*

It’s Saturday. Scott’s had a shitty week, a shitty month if he’s being honest, and he’s lying on his bed, head on the pillow, cradling his laptop. It’s past midnight. Stiles is up, occasionally wandering around while he talks, even though it’s literally the middle of the night for him - if not the early morning. He’s wearing a loose gray shirt and Spider-Man boxers and Scott wishes he could reach out and tug him into bed. 

“Sing me to sleep?” Scott asks, after twenty minutes of telling Stiles exactly why he’s three fourths the way to miserable. (His friend Shelley ran over a kitten and neither of them could save it, his shifts at the local vet’s were cut, he sent his mom money rather than buying more Aggie cash and is constantly hungry, and Liam was almost captured and slaughtered by hunters.)

Stiles peers at him in the dim light, his face soft and warm in a way that Scott rarely got to see in person, let alone through their video chats, and he returns with his guitar a moment later.

“Um, okay. I’m not amazing at this song yet because I only started it a week ago. But I think you’ll like it.” His next words are muted. “I hope you will.”

When Stiles begins strumming and singing ‘Thinking Out Loud’, Scott’s breath stops in his throat and he clutches his pillow tight with his left hand, claws pricking the cover. 

Stiles won’t look at him when he finishes, sets his guitar down. “Sweet dreams, Scotty,” he murmurs, disconnecting the chat. 

Scott stares up at the ceiling for another two hours. 

It can’t be what he’s thinking.

Stiles would have said something.

Stiles is terrible with handling his emotions but is always vocal in his love.

Yet Stiles has been singing and playing him love songs since those first two tracks. Only love songs. 

*

“You feeling better?” Stiles asks the next time they’re face to face. It’s another Tuesday. They’ve texted during the past couple of weeks or so, but that’s all, and Scott had found himself increasingly mimicking Stiles’ expressions and speech cadences in lieu of the real thing, to the bafflement of his college friends.

“I haven’t learned how to play guitar in the space of seventeen days,” Scott says without answering the question being asked. “But I downloaded this karaoke track.”

Scott starts the track, rocks back in his chair, braces himself, and tries not to fall apart with nerves. 

“Love me tender Love me sweet Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so

Love me tender Love me true All my dreams fulfilled For my darlin' I love you And I always will”

Stiles’ expression morphs from confusion to fondness to joy. He picks up his guitar and plays along towards the end of the song, humming with Scott, adding a little harmony when he can. 

“You noticed, huh?” Stiles asks when Scott finishes, scratching the back of his neck and ducking his head down.

“It took me way too long,” Scott says. He shrugs, smiles. “I got there eventually.”

“Yeah, so, I’m like head over heels in love with you, Scott,” Stiles says, too earnest considering the casual phrasing, the nonchalant slant of his shoulders.

“That’s good to hear. I’m like truly, madly, deeply in love with you too.” Scott grins, full of a huge quantity of unnamed and usually suppressed emotions. 

Stiles’ answering smile has Scott’s palms feeling clammy and his nerves zinging. 

“I feel very strongly that we need to somehow be in the same room so we can make sweet, sweet music together,” Stiles says, voice a little rough, like he’s holding back his own crescendo of feelings and can only let one or two loose. 

“I completely agree.”

*

On Thursday evening, after Scott’s least favorite lectures and the longest and most frustrating shift at the vet’s clinic, he finds himself humming along to an old song he’s only heard once or twice in the past 10 years. It takes a while to place it.

It takes even longer to realize he’s humming it because he can hear a guitar strumming the chords. He throws open the window to his shoebox apartment, blood thundering in his veins, hoping against hope he’s going to see what he thinks he is. 

Stiles stands there with his guitar. 

“In my life, I love you more,” Stiles sings. 

Scott rushes down the stairs on all fours, damn near crashes through the door in a cartoon cut-out. He’s not proud of it, but it is what it is. 

He’s careful as he adjusts the guitar so it’s on Stiles’s back, soft as he cradles his jaw, and high-pitched as Stiles closes the distance between them before he gets a chance to and kisses him with a rhythm and tempo that leave him breathless.

[stilesedit]

What are your other tumblr blogs?

@scottstiles​​ is my main teen wolf side blogs i run myself: this one, @allisonedit​​, @dylantyler​​ non tw side blogs: @psshit​​, @kahlanamnel​​, @elizabethparker​​ blogs i’m a member of (and am responsible for most of the activity on): @tw-edits​​, @scottdaily​​, @dailytylerposey​​, @hrodendaily​​ blogs i’m a member of with other active members: @fytwolf​​, @scottedit​​​

[astron3ma]

sometimes I look at my @dylantyler and I jus cry bc my dibby is so perfect

[anneshirlei]

FOLLOW @DYLANTYLER AKA DIVVY

Because tumblr is a bitch, I’m here ask all of you that lives in my heart to follow @dylantyler (which is Divvy, you know, the amazing owner of @scottstiles and @stilesedit) because her blog was suspended since tumblr has nothing better to do than to ruin her life and leave me without a quality teen wolf gif blog (how dare they).

Anyways, once more, follow @dylantyler !

[alexenglish]

alex!!!! idk if u saw but tumblr suspended my account and i can only access my side blogs :(( come follow me @dylantyler for now!! (probs for good since tumblr refuses to answer my emails)

saldkfjdfdfg i forgot to say its divvy XD

DIVVY YOU’RE ALIVE!!! (I knew, Monica totally told me but I’m very happy to see you, love) if anyone was wondering where scottstiles went, it’s @dylantyler now

[mieczlw-a]

inadvertently  requested  by  @dylantyler

[scottstiles]

Can you make a "masterpost" of all your sideblogs?

sure! ummmmmmmm..... here:

@scottstiles- main/personal: teen wolf, other movies/tv shows/celebs i like, ramblings, both original edits + reblogs posted

@stilesedit - edits of stiles stilinski (original only- no reblogs)

@allisonedit - edits of allison argent (original only- no reblogs)

@scottedit (co-admin)- edits of scott mccall (original only- no reblogs)

@tw-edits (co-admin)- teen wolf gifs/edits (original only- no reblogs)

@dylantyler- o’brosey side blog (original + reblogs- low activity)

@scottdaily (co-admin) - original edits + reblogs of scott mccall

@dailytylerposey (co-admin) - reblogs of tyler posey

@fytwolf (member)- original edits + reblogs of teen wolf (general)

@hrodendaily (co-admin)- reblogs of holland roden

@kahlanamnel - legend of the seeker reblogs

@elizabethparker- roswell (OG only) reblogs

@thescilesnet (member)- sciles reblogs (low activity)

@psshit- photoshop + tumblr resource reblogs

[pleasepleaseeplease]

zavenbellarke>cloakedaggers

Cloak & Dagger is my new favorite show and I love tyrondy so I decided that I needed to change my url.

Tagging some of my favorite people:

@asroarke @bb-8 @bellameblake @bellamy-fucking-blake @bellamyblakesass @bellblake @blueshirtbell @broodybellamy @cabergay @celluloiddreams @clarkegriffintitties @cloakedtandy @dylantyler @flawlessbellamy @frankchurchillsaysrelax @galaxyblake @galaxythor @granger--danger @great-wanheda @griffinnblake @grumpybell @iwantyoutochooseme @jamescarstairs @jamescarstairz @jasperjoordan @jelly-bean-jones @johnmurphe @john-mulaney @lunaslovegood @lydiamartinn @madelinecoffee @nightbleeder @niylah @nvermindiseeyou @octannibal-blake @okay-kitsune @pillowprincesslexa @raven-reyes-of-sunshine @ravensreyes @rorygilmore @slowburnotptrash @softsangsters @starboybellamy @stargirlclarke @tackmins @tandybowenss @the-most-beautiful-broom @thelittlefanpire @tyronndy @youleftme-clarke

[astron3ma]

hi I’m drew and this is my ted talk

@dylantyler is da bomb.com and I will fight anyone that disagrees. Thanks for listening

[uno-dos-dylan]

I'm a solo musician writing indie rock. All of my songs are originals written and performed by me. All live recordings, no software programmed instruments. Produced in a bedroom studio setup in Southern California.

  If you like the music, feel free to download and share the songs!

[wheresyourmoose-blog]

thirty days of writing — day six. prompt → flame pairing → tyler posey/dylan o'brien

As the flame wavers back and forth, Tyler lays the joint on his thigh and lifts a hand to hover above the lighter, feeling the heat of the flame on his palm. He doesn't really know why he does this - just always has whenever he smokes - and he grins before dropping his hand to grab the joint again. Bringing it to his mouth, Tyler puts the end between his lips and leans forward, touching the flame to the opposite end of the joint, flipping the lighter shut when it's lit.

"Tyler?" Dylan calls out and Tyler inhales deeply, joint pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He listens to his friend's footsteps as they get closer and closes his eyes, letting smoke fill his lungs. "Dude, not in the living room!"

Pulling the joint away from his mouth, Tyler turns to look at Dylan and grins. "No one is going to smell it if we spray the shit out of everything," he says, slowly letting the smoke escape as he speaks. "I bought a new bottle of Febreze, don't worry."

The smell of pot fills the air and Dylan coughs, waving a hand through the smoke to dispel it, frowning deeply at Tyler, who tips his head back on the arm of the couch and puts the joint back between his lips. He scratches the back of his neck and sighs heavily, moving closer to the couch, dropping his hand to his side.

"Just, don't get any ashes on anything. I don't want you to burn a hole into the pillows that Holland so nicely picked out for us," he grumbles, flushing when Tyler laughs and lifts his hand, their knuckles brushing together. Whether it's by accident or on purpose, Dylan doesn't know, but he sure as hell knows that he shudders when he feels Tyler's skin on his own.

"I'll be careful." Smoke billows from between Tyler's lips and they curl into a grin, his knuckles brushing along Dylan's again. "You should try this, might calm you down."

Dylan huffs and shakes his head, swallowing thickly. "No thank you."

"Are you sure?" Tyler sing-songs the question and waves the joint around a little.

"I'm sure, now stop moving that around." Tyler keeps waving his hand around in circles and Dylan wraps a hand around his wrist, stopping it. "Thank you."

Laughing quietly, Tyler pulls his wrist away from Dylan's and puts the joint between his lips again as he sits up, moving his hands to his friend's waist. He pulls him down onto his lap and Dylan yelps loudly, pressing his hands against Tyler's chest to keep himself from falling on top of him fully. Once he's sure he isn't going to fall forward and risk the chance of burning himself on the joint, Dylan straightens up and puts a knee on either side of Tyler's waist.

"What was that for?" 

Tyler shrugs and sits up, taking the joint away from his mouth. "You need to relax, okay? I'm not going to burn anything or take your innocence away," he says before putting the joint back between his lips, cheeks hollowing as he inhales deeply.

When his friend gets closer, Dylan swallows and watches him intently, not staring at the sunken look of his cheeks as he takes a long drag. He moves his arms around Tyler's neck to keep himself balanced and lets out a nervous chuckle when he feels a hand on the back of his head. Long fingers card through his hair and Dylan closes his eyes just before Tyler pulls him forward, slotting their lips together.

Dylan parts his lips almost automatically and moves a hand to the back of Tyler's head, tangling his fingers in the dark locks. Smoke moves into his mouth and he makes a noise against his friend's lips, tugging him closer like he can't get enough and, truth be told, he probably can't. He can the smoke in his lungs and he pulls away from the kiss, nearly coughing as he tips his head back to let the smoke out of his mouth.

"You alright?" Tyler chuckles and Dylan just nods his head, coughing as he pulls his gaze back to his friend, cheeks turning pink (though Tyler can't see that). "Do you want to do that again or no?"

Biting his lip, Dylan shakes his head and smiles. "I think I'm good for now," he says, dragging his fingers through Tyler's hair slowly, still feeling the burn of smoke in his lungs and in his chest.

Tyler nods and brings the joint back to his mouth, inhaling deeply before pulling it away and tipping his head back slightly. Smoke pours out from between his parted lips and Dylan scratches along his scalp, watching the gray wisps fill the air. The hand on the back of his head slides down the nape of his neck and Dylan shivers, pushing himself against Tyler until he's falling back against the couch again.

They laugh together and Tyler brings his lighter out again, crushing the end of his joint against the side. He tosses both items onto the floor and wraps his arms around Dylan, letting his head fall back against the arm of the couch. There's a stupid grin on his face and he hums happily, letting his eyes shut as his buzz takes over.

[mieczlw-a]

HAPPPPPY BIRTHDAY LEAAAAAAA i want to make a long sappy letter about how important you've been to me this last little while but im not really in that place, just know that's a fact and i'm so happy to know you and get to talk to you and freak out with you and be blessed to be in proximity to such amazing talent oh wait.. did i just make.. a long sappy sentence about how important you've been to me ...? anyway u know it. have an incredible birthday my dear i love u ❤️❤️❤️- divvy

ahhhh divvy ,  i  love  you  so  much  honey ! ! !   i  hope  you  know  you’re  just  as  important  to  me  dearie.  i  hope  your  mood  picks  up  because  you  deserve  nothing  but  the  best  the  world  can  offer. 

I LOVE  YOU  ! ! ! ! ! ! ! 

-------       @dylantyler