Tumblr has changed. That’s obvious to anyone who has been around here a while, especially if you were a part of our original group of tumblr people who came over from twitter.
There used to be a lot more thoughtful posts, little pieces of your lives shared with a few hundred of your closest friends. We bonded over these posts, shared births and deaths, promotions and graduations, all kinds of life milestones. I knew what was going on with your families and your jobs. It felt like we were part of each other’s lives.
There’s still some of that and I’m always so happy and grateful to see it. But lately when I scroll through my dashboard it’s mostly memes and things that have thousands of notes on them. I see so little of the writing I used to see here. Maybe a lot of us don’t have time for that anymore. I get it. We are busy. We have lives outside of our devices. But I miss it. I miss that closeness, that camaraderie, the feeling that we were one big, weird family.
Good times. They were really good times. And I’ll always be incredibly thankful for the friends I made here and what we’ve shared. (I feel like their should be a slideshow playing now with some sappy song accompanying it).
I’ll probably always go on writing about my life and my feelings because that’s just what I do. But I miss those of you who stopped doing it. I enjoy the memes and the reblogs and the music, but like any old person who hangs on to the past too long, I long for old times.
Love you guys. Always.
*cue “I’ve Had the Time of my Life” playing over photos from Chicago*
Hey guys! So I’ve never done a follow forever before, but I hit 400 followers right before I left for Disney (which is a lot idk why that many people even like the crap I post here) so to kinda celebrate that, my trip, and my birthday Tuesday (in like a half hour now) I decided I’ll try this and see how it works to say thank you to these lovely blogs for making my dash a wonderful place to be, and as a thank you to the wonderful friends I’ve made here, whether you bleed white and red, flail over Captain Swan, or just bask in the perfection that is my favorite dorito superhero, or are even still around from the good ‘ol days when David Tennant was the Doctor and Rose Tyler was the best companion to set foot in the TARDIS, I love you all. If we talk regularly, or have never spoken at all, I still love you all (and if we don’t talk, come say hi anytime) And a huge thank you to my followers for putting up with me (and for not clicking that unfollow button when I was posting Disney pics last week, I had way too fantastic of a time to not share though ahaha) I am also going to apologize in advance in case I forget anybody (most likely will) but if I do just let me know and I’ll for sure fix it!
So without further ado, here goes! mutuals are in bold
A/N: Hey so here’s my update… You’ve all probably read lots of oneshots styled like this. I still would definitely find this funny. Enjoy you lovely readers :) I shall also finish my other ideas, but again keep requesting… keep me busy guys and girls!
Note: Jarvis still exists here… Let it be
Tony smirked. It was time to get Pietro Maximoff back from the last power in iron man suit prank. He knew exactly what it is. It involved his current crush, (Y/N).
“Jarvis, what is (Y/N) up to right now?” Tony said as he popped a bean in his mouth. The AI replied, “In the shower, sir. Why?”
“Perfect timing.” Tony smirked, picking up a blueprint you wanted from him.
“What are you planning to do now, Mr. Stark?” Jarvis asked. Tony shrugged. “A prank on a Sokovian. Oh, and speaking of Speedy, could you call him? I need him to do something.”
“Of course, sir.”
As Tony took a quick look at the blueprint, he realized that Pietro was already right beside him, his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised.
“You hollered Stark?”
The billionaire nodded and shoved the blueprint into Pietro’s arms.
“These are for…”
“(Y/N).” Pietro’s eyes widened.
“I uhh I mean… Why don’t you get Wanda or Captain to do it. I mean, they are closer to (Y/N) than I am and -”
“Geez Pietro you only need to deliver the blueprint.” Tony smirked, making Pietro blush.
“I, alright I’ll go…. Be back in a minute.”
“(Y/N), I have something to be brought for you from Stark.” The older Maximoff twin knocked. After knocking a few more times and realizing the door was unlocked, he opened it.
“Shit Pietro!” You screamed as he came in. Pietro turned very pink and instantly dropped the blueprint. You were blushing hard as well. You instantly found your towel, though it did no good so you got the sheets of your bed.
He started to say a string of words in Sokovian while you quickly found your clothes.
“I’m really sorry, (Y/N)! Stark told me you needed it right now and..” You laughed nervously.
“No, no it’s fine! It was stupid of me for not immediately locking the door and I uhh… I’ll be back.” You stammered, practically running to the bathroom, making the door shut close hard.
Once you came out, the two of you were still blushing while Pietro held the blueprint out awkwardly. You took it in gratitude before finding your brush to well, brush your hair.
“I really am sorry for that… I, oh now you’ll never be liking me in this rate I mean I saw you naked and–”
“Wait what?!” You asked in slight shock, confusion and delight. Pietro’s eyes widened and his hand went to his mouth. He was as red as Thor’s cape actually.
“I… I didn’t mean that and…a-and.” You were smirking by this time.
“I, I gotta go.” He tried to go away, but you were faster with your powers, freezing him in place. He gulped.
“Come on Mister Maximoff, let’s have a chat.” Pietro sighed.
“I am going to hate Stark even more after this.”
A/N: Sorry if it was short and possibly (but hopefully not) crappy. Send in those requests! I’m already writing my other ideas in mind, but I’d also want the help from my readers. Forgive any grammar errors of mine please… Toodles! And follow if you haven’t for more of these :)
Natasha's training is a lot like Bruce's irradiation or Captain's war history. Aspects may change, and the finite details may be altered, but any adaption is still beholden to the comic book roots established generations ago. Whedon didn't invent Natasha's backstory, you're just ignorant of the history of the character.
i just started dating a man again for the first time since coming out to a lot of friends (i saw a lot of different people since then and most were women or gender non-conforming) and now i've already had two friends say something like "i thought you were gay?" and it feels terrible, like they never actually got that part of my identity. how do i nicely hammer home that i'm still bi regardless of the gender of my current partner?
start off with an attempt to patiently remind them that you are bisexual, which means that you may date people of various genders
if they keep it up, start asking them obnoxious questions every time they do something that could conceivably be framed as being in opposition to something that they had previously done. example: “omg are you eating a burger? i thought you were a vegetarian! what do you mean you’re not a vegetarian, i literally just saw you eating a salad last week!” etc.
what are your suggestions for good quality, not too pricey, dark and sexy (I'm not too fond of cutesy; I like black and lots of lace/geometry) brands for a 32D?
Thank you for including your definition of “dark and sexy”, it’s really helpful. However I don’t know what “not too pricey” means to you, but here are some suggestions from cheap to almost-expensive-but-still-kinda-affordable-especially-on-sale :
- Asos => Their own brand is cheap and trendy, and they carry a lot of other brands. You can also check Figleaves, who have several in-house brands and a large choice of other lines.
- Clo Intimo
- Passionata => French brand, same group as Chantelle. Most of their designs are youthful and colourful but they do have some darker things.
- Playful Promises = A british independent label, their prices are really fair considering their creativity and quality.
- Huit => This season is pretty colourful but they make some interesting geometric designs and they get darker in autumn-winter.
- Gossard => I have several sets by them and I love them
- Triumph => They have really re-vamped their collections lately, I wish they produced my size (they’re so close!)
- Dita von Teese => Sort of pricey but great quality and amazing designs
- Kiss Me Deadly
- Stella McCartney
- Princesse Tam.Tam
- Fortnight => Although they do some underwired styles, they are mostly known and liked for their wireless bras.
- Heidi Klum Intimates
- L’Agent by Agent Provocateur => Probably one of the most expensive brands on this list, AP is not always consistent quality-wise (when they’re good, they’re really good but when they’re bad, they’re really bad) so I would recommend to order on a free-return site or to purchase in a brick-and-mortar shop. Some would argue that it’s better to put more money and get real AP but even on sale it’s usually more expensive.
- You might also find interesting independent designers on Etsy!
I don’t get why Sansa Stark is so hated. Like, yeah, initially she was just this naive, innocent little child, but up until she went to King’s Landing, all she knew of the world was Old Nan’s stories about chivalrous knights and pretty, noble ladies. Like, what did you expect her to do, pick up a sword and fight like Arya? Raise dragons and command armies like Daenerys? And now she’s starting to show that she knows how to play the Game. She goes through A LOT of shit, and realizes that life really isn’t a fairytale, but she still keeps going. She’s a deconstruction of the sweet, innocent maiden that you see so often in high fantasy, and I personally think she’s a great, well-rounded character.
i know this is awkward, but I'm bi and i live in Ireland, and i know i shouldn't be scared to come out now because every things legalised and stuff but I know that my grandparents voted no and a lot of people in my school voted no, including my friends, an I'm so fucking scared of what might happen to me if i do come out, but if i don't ill be depressed forever, and i don't want to stay like this
Your friends aren’t really your friends if they won’t accept you for who you really are. Thing is, if they don’t like you for that aspect of you then they don’t deserve to have you around, you’re still the same person you were before you came out initially. As for grandparents, are they the ones who house you? Would they kick you out or anything? If you think they would then i’d say wait to tell them till you know you’re able to take care of yourself and able to live on your own. It sucks to think about but you wanna consider the worst case scenario so you will be mentally ready for what may come. Its easier to deal with it that way if you’re mentally prepared. Its your choice to come out or not. Only do it if you know 100% that this is what you wish. Your happiness matters most, do what will make you happy. You have one life, live it your way but take some caution as well. I wish you luck. <3
I'm doing research for a story involving a culture I'm hoping to base off of Egypt's (ancient and modern), but I'm not really sure where to start. I'm a visual person, so I automatically think about clothing and architecture, but I know there's a million other things I'm forgetting about, like table manners and other traditions. Do you have any advice about how to go about researching? What should I specifically look for? Thank you so much in advance:) Without you a lot of writers would be lost!
Well, when it comes to Egypt one of the things to keep in mind is how incredibly far-reaching the culture is. Egypt in particular was shaped by millennia of interactions with other cultures, so even if you’re talking “Ancient Egypt” you’re still talking about a culture that spanned thousands of years (and many cultural revolutions). So a good starting point is to identify exactly which point of Ancient Egyptian culture you want to use to influence the culture in your story.
This link seems like as good a starting point as any, as it covers a lot of the “daily life” of peoples in Ancient Egypt. From there, you’ll probably have a better idea of where you want to go in your own research and worldbuilding efforts. Good luck!
i hAVE A PROMPT LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND IF YOU WANNA WRITE IT OR WHATEVER: established relationship Jake/Amy where Jake's dad resurfaces and still makes him feel like shit and makes him feel like he doesn't deserve love and he thinks over his childhood and how it was all his fault AND LISTEN AMY IS SICK OF HIS DAD HURTING HIM SO SHE TELLS HIS DAD THAT HE DOESNT DESERVE A SON AS GREAT AS JAKE AND THEN TELLS JAKE SHE LOVES HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME (contd)
(Contd) EVEN THOUGH IT SCARES HER A LOT BUT SHe wants him to know so he would stop feeling like he’s not worth it and he’s not ready to say it back but he just can’t believe that Amy loves him and just pls
lmao alright alright ALRIGHT let’s go
ROCK BOTTOM ISN’T SO BAD WHEN THERE’S A PRETTY GIRL SITTING NEXT TO YOU (or, amy finally takes the initiative)
it, you were doing so well,” Jake says lightly, one hand resting on the door, ready
to slam it dramatically at any given moment.
Peralta almost smiles, but thinks better of it.
need your help, Jakey.”
don’t get to call me that,” Jake replies, curt and with just the slightest hint
of an edge; the impassive expression on his face gives nothing away, but the
sight of his father is enough to make his stomach churn. And he was almost over him, too. Damn it. “And you
don’t get my help, either.”
on,” Roger says, and there’s just the slightest note of pleading in there.
hates him, hates him, hates him.
on, for your old man. I just need to crash on your couch for a few days.
small intake of breath as Jake watches him, standing on his doorstep in his
pilot’s uniform, a suitcase lying on the ground next to him. He has absolutely
no reason to offer a helping hand to him – this man who’s caused him so much
turmoil and pain.
Jake says, and offers to carry his suitcase.
I have been seeing a unhappily significant amount of posts from people saying that they don’t feel like they belong in this fandom or they don’t feel a part of this fandom. And no. Guys, no. You are part of this family, no ifs ands or buts about it. You don’t have to create art, videos, writing, cosplay, etc to “qualify” to be a part of this fandom omg no. You like Kuvira? You are part of the Kuvira fandom family.
I’m not eloquent and good with words, but trust me. A lot of us felt that way/still can feel that way, and we gotta let each other know we are here for one another ok.
Ohana means family, family means nobody gets left behind, this has been a psa
I’d just like to take a minute to thank all of the men and women who are in the armed forces. Y'all are incredibly brave, and to the ones we remember on this day, I’d like to give you a special thanks. You gave everything for your country, and it wasn’t for nothing. We take this day to remember you, and I hope that you’ve found peace. And to the ones who are still fighting, please stay strong. You’ve got a lot of people waiting on you to come back.
Bana identified as male for a long time. Just because they've since grown and their gender has shifted doesn't change the fact that they're trans or queer or whatever other word you want to use for it - grow up and stop trying to police the identities of others. It's childish and uncalled for.
Though I don’t feel identifying as male solely for a few years gives me a lot of, like, say in a lot of matters, it’s still a true part of my identity. It shouldn’t be erased even if I don’t feel like it’s anybody’s business what I do with myself or who I am, besides whoever I enter a relationship with or my family.
I presented as male for three years and felt uncomfortable being only a male, I went back to only female presentation and felt just as uncomfortable as I had for all the years of my life before identifying as male. As things stand now, I really just don’t ever feel comfortable at all anywhere on the spectrum, so I don’t think about it. I like girl clothes, so I go with that. Sometimes I like boy clothes, and I go with that too.
I don’t like her / she, but I don’t like they. He / him still feels incorrect. I just ignore it. I’m in a perpetual state of dysphoria and insecurity and always unsure, so I just mind my business and try to do what’s going to make me happy.
Pretending I’m nothing but my personality, my interests, and my talents personified has been the only thing that’s felt comfortable, and so far the people I love and trust in my life have respected that enough that I don’t have to feel uncomfortable or always try and figure out who exactly I am.
My only dream ever has been to move to New York City for a year or so.
Seeming as getting a Green-card is almost impossible, I will be travelling all the way from Australia for a few months next year over your summer time. I want to do this now whilst I’m still young and able to.
I know I’ll have to save a lot of money but it’ll be worth it. (If you’d like to sublet my friends and I your apartment, that’d be great. 😜)
Is there anything you can recommend? Is there any advice you can give me? There’s so many things to think of that I will take any insight I can get!
New York City is my favourite place on earth. It’ll be such an adventure.
is it normal to have a lot of the symptoms of BPD but have it all happen in your head? Like instead of constantly asking for reassurance I just dwell on the fact that everyone hates me/wants to leave me and never bring it up to anyone? And keeping all the extreme emotions to yourself? is that still BPD?
yes, you’re just internalizing it all. if you read the diagnostic criteria, you’ll notice they dont specify whether things are outwardly expressed or inwardly expressed. It’s a prevalent idea that all people with BPD express outwardly and loudly, but that it’s true. There are many ways to experience the symptoms and many different behaviours that can come from them.
For example, you’re experiencing a fear of abandonment, that’s the symptom. A behaviour that could stem from that symptom would be asking for reassurance all the time, but asking for reassurance is not the symptom. Your behaviour would be dwelling and internalizing while someone elses could be seeking an answer to solve it (reassurance) and externalize.
My mom has this obsession with these raspberry filled powdered donuts from Walmart. My mom still doesn’t eat a whole lot or that often ( which they said is normally, as long as she gets enough calories she is fine), but she enjoys the donuts.
So i bought her a couple boxes the other day, and my grandpa ate half of them.. She keeps them in her room, so when she wasnt in there he kept sneaking in to get some.
Anyways, so tonight she kept saying she was craving them, so i went to my grandpa and was like “ hey im going to walmart to get my mom some of those so donuts, do you need anything?” And he said he would just come because he needed ciggs.
So we get there and i drop him off out front before parking. And when i go inside to the donuts, i see he has a box in his cart, and i look and they don’t have anyone, that was the last box.
So i look at him and im like “ you got the last box for my mom?” And he is like “ no, but i mean i figured id give her a couple”
So i say “ umm no, thats her box, you knew i was coming her for those donuts, why do you think you get them and she gets one or two out of them?” And he starts like trying to bicker with me over the fucking donuts.
So i grabbed them out of the cart and was just like “ you knew i was coming for these, i got them, dont like it you can walk ur ass to the other walmart to get some” and went and checked out.. So now he is all crabby..
Like seriously dude… You know my mom still doesnt eat normally from all the chemo and radiation and shit, the donuts are high in calories so its okay if she doesnt eat much else.
Imagine being in a relationship with future (endverse) Dean and meeting the “real” Dean when he gets placed in the future by Michael.
Author’s Note: Dean x reader based on the 5x04 episode of SPN! Continuation of this series has been highly requested so I guess I’m still going with it! I love hearing your feedback and I’m so glad you’ve liked it thus far. Here’s the first three if you haven’t read them.
Reader has just realized the prisoner is in fact Dean, and now he has to explain to her than he’s from the past. Her loyalties with future!dean are going to be tested. That being said, this probably isn’t my strongest “chapter.” It had to have a lot of dialogue and usually I’m more description heavy and light on the talking, so I hope it turned out okay! I want to hear your feedback! I wont be able to do this series much longer, because requests are being so neglected right now! But I am ready to give it a good closure/ending if you still want it!
“It’s fine. Just please don’t tell Dean.” In a bout of of maternal instinct, I wiped my thumb along his chiseled jaw to catch the liquid slipping down. The action felt hauntingly reminiscent… I shouldn’t have been so close to him, holding the chin of a man who the entire camp seemed to believe was a murderer. But a stomach churning sense of deja vu kept me from removing my touch. When his lips moved I was barely able to focus on listening.
“That’ll be difficult.” That voice, that deep, gritty, lazy voice… I didn’t have time to question the statement before I was analyzing that all too familiar noise again.
“It’ll be difficult, because you’re telling him right now.”
The bottle I was holding fell to the floor with a clatter and my calves slammed into the legs of the table as I backed away from occupied chair.
"Hey, easy! It’s okay.” That voice, his voice, was suddenly all I could hear. It was Dean’s. I looked around the room frantically for some kind of clue as to what was going on, some imperfection that would affirm this was all just another nightmare.
“Calm down, listen to me. It’s not going to make sense, but you need to try to understand… You may be the only person that hears this.” Something about the way he spoke was irresistibly comforting. It was the voice of the man I loved. It was that deep, scratchy familiarity, but delivered with less harshness. I panted and gripped the table for support, my knees threatening to cave from the shock of it all. The prisoner was still chained to the chair, but the freedom of his lips to speak was paralyzing me. It was perfectly clear now, the exact semblance of Dean’s mouth. The strong jaw, the slightly dimpled chin, those scars… It was all Dean. I swallowed back my fear of the unknown and stepped forward to examine his partly covered face closer. I could barely remember what Dean looked like without scruffy facial hair and dirty smeared over his skin, and yet here he was. His tone grew more slow and pleading.
“You were kind to me. There must he some part of you that knows who I am…” I could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, identical to what I saw on the face of the man I slept beside every night. It filled me with both awe and terror.
"Let me explain…“
My hands were shaking as I reached for the gag around his neck, contemplating returning it to the mouth that imparted this insanity upon me. For a moment I thought that just maybe, if I could stop him for speaking and cover his face again, I could go back to the way it was before. I could pretend it never happened, just like I pretended not too care that Dean was always drunk, or pretended not to notice the blood always splattered on his clothing when he embraced me. This entire pedestal life was pretending, all for the sake of the compound. For the greater good. In that moment I felt like what I imagined Dean did most days, the all powerful leader making decisions for his flock. I began to replace the fabric but never got it past his chin. The captive spoke quickly, desperate to get my attention before I took away his one chance at freedom.
"Just… Go get Sam. He’ll believe me. He’ll know it’s me.” The sincerity in his words made me feel sick with grief. He truly had no idea where his brother was. He had no idea about Detroit. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t replace the gag or burlap. In a movement that would forever change the course of my life, the future, and even the past; I pulled the bag up over the prisoner’s head and let it fall to the ground. Dean’s face stared back at me, jade eyes blinking at the sudden brightness. There was no air in my lungs or strength in my legs. I fell into the nearest chair, hand smothering my gaping mouth. We stared at each other for a long time, unsure of how to begin. I was mesmerized by the very small differences between him and the man that bore his same name. When I finally regained some composure I was able to speak again.
“Please… tell me everything."
"So, let me get this straight. You’re the Dean Winchester from the past? And you were sent here, by an angel…” My head was swimming with information that I had never known possible. I had heard the stories of angel’s power from Castiel, but I never knew it included affecting space and time. The prisoner was being very patient, but I could see his gaze flicking towards the sides of the tent every time someone passed by. Each shadow was a threat of being overheard or interrupted. “-sent here by Michael, to see the Croatoan apocalypse that you have to stop?” He nodded, clearly grateful that I was beginning to understand.
“It’s some real ‘back to the future’ shit, but yes, that sums it up.” I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and the two of us were still content to study each other for another long period of time. Dean’s stare fell to my knees and he appeared concerned.
“Your legs, they’re still bleeding…” I remembered the mess of cuts that covered my knees and laid my hands over them in a futile attempt to hide the damage. My cheeks were flush when I mumbled an excuse, but this Dean’s tone wasn’t chastising like I would have expected.
"Oh it’s nothing, just a scrape.“ He wasn’t satisfied with my answer but tugging against his restraints reminded him that there was nothing he could do. Something about the way he scowled told me he would have examined them further, given the chance. We stayed quiet again, both unsure of how to communicate our numerous questions and curiosities.
"I don’t mean to be demanding, but could you let my hands lose?"
"I can’t, Dean will be back soon."
"Right. Got to say, I turn out to be a real asshole.” A irrepressible chuckle shook my chest and I immediately coughed to stifle it. I shouldn’t laugh at Dean, especially not in the presence of a total stranger… then again, he wasn’t at all unfamiliar.
“Don’t judge him too hard, he’s been through so much… He’s just trying to keep us all safe.” There was no life in my words, I sounded like an answering machine repeating the message I had been taught to spew over months of living in the compound. Thankfully the man tied to the chair was too filled with rage to recognize my insincerity. He scoffed loudly, gritting his teeth and clenching his bound fists.
"What, by nearly killing me? When he realized I wasn’t a demon or some kind of shifter, he dragged me back here with a bag on me head. Pretty sure he’s got the whole compound under the impression that I’m some kind of murderer.“ I remembered Dean’s earlier explanation and wrung my hands together. The riled crowd outside, surely he didn’t incite that response unjustly?
"It’s all a misunderstanding, I’m sure. Dean wouldn’t let an innocent man killed….” That same mechanical speech exited my lips, an empty oath to a man who was becoming more tyrannical every day. Still, I held tightly to the Dean that I loved, the one that kissed me goodbye each morning. I was too lost in thought to notice the prisoner closing his eyes, in either pain or painful memory.
"That’s not what I saw out there.“ His brow was furrowed in a tight crease between his eyes, mouth pursued with bitter taste. The grief in him was evident, and it made me shudder in fear.
"What do you mean?” I was afraid to ask. The conditions outside these compound fences were bloody and filled with death. My nightmares were bad enough, but Dean had reassured me the reality of living in this world was much worse. He once compared it to purgatory, saying he’d much rather be there again than on an earth with the virus.
"Today, before he captured me…he killed a teenager point-blank. Shot him right between the eyes and didn’t even flinch. I feel terrible. It was like watching myself…“ Blood rose to my cheeks and pounded in my ears. I jumped from my chair before he could go on.
"No. Don’t say that. Dean wouldn’t, not without a reason. Things have changed a lot since your time.” I turned my back and retreated to the kitchen, where I compulsively splashed water over my face in an attempt to wash the image from my mind. The prisoner wasn’t sated. He yelled after me, his voice threatening to breach the walls of the tent.
“My time? What, murder is hunky dory in the future?” My head snapped back in his direction and I prepared to shout back at him, but the fear of being heard got the better of me. I drew close and lowered my tone.
"You don’t understand. Dean has had to kill a lot of people. If someone gets bitten and infected by the virus…“ The man shook his head and let it fall back in a limp show of disregard for my explanation. When he faced me again he looked upon me with pity and regret.
"What? I know that look. You’re not telling me something.” He gnawed at his lip, obviously contemplating whether or not to speak his thoughts. I waited for him without wavering. Finally he looked away from me and continued.
“The boy wasn’t bitten.” I was about to argue that wasn’t possible, but he wouldn’t let me interrupt. “The kid got his leg stuck in a trap, and it was torn up pretty badly. I was watching from nearby. The rest of the men with him were going to cut it the leg off, but "Dean” told them it was pointless. Said he would never survive the amputation, and that he was a liability to the group…“ As much as I hated to admit it, that did sound like something Dean would say. My chest refused to expand, less I mishear a single detail.
"He sent the rest of the party back to the truck, pulled out his gun and-” I winced and threw up my palms in surrender. I felt like scrubbing my hands under the sink, a sort of transferred guilt staining the creases in my skin.
“Stop. I don’t want to hear this. Dean isn’t a killer, he’s a good man…” The prisoner looked solemn, but unrelenting. I could tell he was just as sickened by the thought as I was, if not more.
“Believe me, I want to have as much faith in him as you do. That’s me out there… But what I saw wasn’t a good man, Y/N. That’s not who I want to be.” There was something both hurtful and healing about seeing Dean’s face giving this confession. It made the possibility of what he might have done seem even more real. The man watched my reaction closely, possibly regretting his choice to tell me what he had seen. There was nothing I could say or do, besides shake my head in denial. He sighed, eyes meeting mine when he spoke softly.
“He doesn’t deserve your faithfulness.” I barely had time to consider his words before noise disrupted our conversation. The dogs began to bark wildly, signally movement outside. It took me a few seconds to spring forward.
"That’s Dean.“ I hands fumbled with the fabric around his neck but I somehow managed to slip the gag in his mouth, fingers brushing his chapped lips. The gravel nearby was crunching under the weight of a pair of boots, each step louder than the last. Once the burlap sack was in my hands I rose to pull it back over Dean’s face. My frantic gaze locked with his for a fleeting moment. His pale green eyes were searching mine for any kind of reassurance, any sign that I was on his side. I sighed and chewed at the inside of my cheek nervously. I wasn’t sure which Dean I trusted, if any at all. I heard the footsteps stop outside the tent door and felt my spine crawl.
"It’s going to be okay.” My words were half spoken to calm myself and half for the sake of the prisoner in front of me. I had just finished clumsily re-tying the cord around his neck when the door fluttered open, allowing new sunlight to illuminate our dusty home. A voice, more harsh but still Dean’s, made my skin feel clammy and cold.
"What’s going to be okay?“
Watching Dean drag the prisoner away was heart wrenching. I had played off my misspoken words easily enough, but there was no stopping him from having the covered man relocated to one of the holding cells. I silently wondered if that would be the last I would ever see of the less callous Dean.
The empty bottle on the counter started an inevitable fight, one that ended with profuse apologies from me and wordless dinner together. I poked at the food on my plate. Prisoners weren’t fed, because their trials rarely lasted long enough for it to matter. Scraping my leftovers into my napkin instead of onto my partners plate felt strangely dishonest.
"You didn’t ask.” I froze at the sound of his voice from across the table, and thought for a moment he might have seen what I was doing with my rations. A sip of water before responding allowed me to gather my composure.
“Ask what?” Dean was studying me, looking through me like he could see my every intention. I couldn’t tell if he was suspicious of me or just in an antagonistic mood because of the days events. He slowly cleaned his knife off with his teeth.
"You always ask how many.“ Suddenly I knew exactly was he meant. Our evenings were undeniably routine, and I couldn’t remember a night that didn’t include me asking how many had died that day. The prisoner’s story about Dean made me shudder, but I pretended it was just the cool nighttime air coming from the tent’s open flap. Honestly, I had no interest in knowing how many had been lost. I was terrified of the answer I already knew.
"Oh, I guess I forgot. Today has been a strange day after all…” I jumped from my seat and busied myself with gathering the plates. I scrubbed at the dishes roughly in an attempt to distract myself from the guilt that threatened to betray me. Technically I had done nothing wrong, yet, but the very thought of keeping secrets in this household felt like a unforgivable sin.
“Just one.” Dean’s voice was startlingly close to my ear as he placed a cup that I had forgotten in the sink beside me.
He didn’t respond right away. I could hear him unlacing his boots and getting ready to get into out bed. I wasn’t ready to join him yet, not with the thought of that poor boy still haunting me. Finally he spoke, a heavy sigh preceding his words.
"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the betterment of the whole.“ My question remained unanswered, and in that moment I knew the prisoner’s story was true.
I lied awake all that night, the heavy arm around me feeling more suffocating than comforting. I needed answers, and those weren’t coming from the man at my side; they were coming from the man on the floor of a dirty cell. My leftover meal was tucked carefully behind the engraved wooden chest in the corner. Watching the tent’s walls change color as the sun finally rose into the sky was agonizingly slow, and I dreaded the kiss I would receive before my plan could go into action.
And to think, it all started with a stolen can of peaches.