anybody else feel like an absurd amount of foreboding for 2018 like 2016 sucked my soul out 2017 put my corpse into a really fast car i couldn’t control and i feel like 2018 is The Arrival At The Gates Of Satan
Someone sent me an ask asking me if I was the person who wrote the vampire tinder fic and if so could I send it to them cause they want to read it again and I’m just kind of sitting here, staring at the ask like:
I have no memory of this but, that sure as shit sounds like me
When a king brands us pirates, he doesn’t mean to make us adversaries. He doesn’t mean to make us c r i m i n a l s. He means to make us monsters. For that’s the only way his God-fearing, taxpaying subjects can make sense of men who keep what is theirs and fear no one. When I say there’s a war coming, I don’t mean with the Scarborough. I don’t mean with King George or England. Civilization is coming, and it means to exterminate us.
dean winchester. dean winchester, the strange new kid who sometimes isn’t in class or strolls in halfway through, sometimes he got bruises or it seems like he hasn’t slept in days. he wears leather and ripped clothes and at first wild stories go around that he’s a drug dealer because of how he looks and someone said they saw him with a gun. but he somehow always gets amazing grades and his presentations are deep and lively and interesting, and apparently, he isn’t a drug dealer, he’s just a little shy until he can talk about the things he likes.
dean winchester. he helps old ladies cross the street and he always carries the teacher’s bag because the man’s old and his books are heavy. people always made fun of him because he should retire, but dean seems to understand that the old man loves his job, and dean never laughed. dean always hangs out with this younger kid from a few years below him, they’ll sit together and share a sandwich, and the kid turns out to be his little brother- and dean drives a cool car and listens to cool music, and people slowly start to like him. they warm up to him, they change, smiling and waving at him when he walks through the hall, and when he’s late people let him enter with some sort of respect.
dean winchester. he doesn’t really change, he still hangs out with his little brother more than with anyone else, and he sometimes doesn’t turn up, and sometimes he just randomly walks out of class - and there’s still that rumor someone saw him with a gun. but he doesn’t look like the guy to have a gun anymore, he helps stressed-out students who are crying because of their upcoming test, he listens to anyone who needs to rant and has quickly become a special, not different kid. when one day the black car doesn’t show up, it isn’t very surprising, so people wait expectantly, they wait for him to stroll in class, for him to turn out to be helping a child on his way to here.
dean winchester. he and his little brother don’t show up that day, or the next day, and people start to get confused- but dean and sam just don’t show up at all anymore. apparently, they moved with their dad, out of nowhere, as random as they’d come. those who at first thought they’d rather see him go miss that strange figure in the empty now seat. people start and try to be like dean, but they aren’t the same because dean never did it to show off- he did it out of love and kindness, and he’ll do it at the next school he goes to, and the one after. and kids will frown at him again, they’ll think he smokes- and they’ll worry about the gun that might be tucked under his flannel.
dean winchester. he moved, and the stressed-out students don’t have anyone who tells them it’s gonna be okay and hold their shoulder anymore, the lady looks at the street and wonders anxiously how she’ll get to the other side. people forget to help, lost in their own issues, and the old teacher has to carry his heavy books on his own.