tiny windows

anonymous asked:

15 and 20 with Dean? Thanks!

I hope this is what you wanted! I had a fever last night and earlier today, so my head is a bit loopy. I hope this still came out alright :)

15. “I’m scared.”

20. “Look at me — just breathe, okay?”

“This doesn’t look right, Dean.”

The only lamp in the room had begun to flicker. You stepped forward, causing the wood to creak beneath your boot. When the light finally gave out, the moonlight was the rooms only companion. It shone its light through the tiny window, illuminating Dean’s silhouette.

He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes locking on yours.

Somehow, you both felt it. Down to your core, you both knew something was wrong, and that you were caught right in the midst of it.

You parted your lips to speak just as Dean stepped back and grabbed your hand in his. Before you could argue, you were whisked away into a small closet. Dean carefully shut the door knob, suddenly encapsulating the both of you in complete darkness.

“I’m scared.” Slipped your lips.

Dean’s hand landed on your arm, his fingers gently holding you. He pressed his ear to the crack in the wood-panelled door. You did the same. Loud, drawn out breaths, sounded on the other side.

Someone, or rather something, was slowly making its way across the room you were just walking through.

With Dean’s chest mere inches from your own, you wanted nothing but to press yourself into him and shut your eyes. Instead, you gripped your gun tighter and listened carefully to the sounds outside the door.

“We’re gonna have to move fast.” Dean whispered, “Remember the vamp nest last week?”

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“Same plan.”

He inhaled deeply. Without thinking, you reached forward, fumbling through the dark until your hand finally landed in his.

“Look at me – just breathe, okay?” He asked of you; and you did. In the darkness of the closet, your eyes still managed to find his, and you let out a shaky breath.

He gripped your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “All or nothing, Y/N.”

“All or nothing.” You repeated, and the door swung open. 

8

simon vs. the homo sapiens agenda — i guess it was about loneliness. and it’s funny, because i don’t really think of myself as lonely. but there was something so familiar about the way blue described the feeling. it was like he had pulled the ideas from my head. like the way you can memorize someone’s gestures but never know their thoughts. and the feeling that people are like houses with vast rooms and tiny windows. the way you can feel so exposed anyway.

6

Blue for the virus, green for the anti-virus.

I have 8 minutes left before midnight, when Holocaust Remembrance Day will end, so let me tell you the 8 things that I remember most vividly from the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.

1. The entire museum is suffocating. It’s quiet and somber and can sometimes feel like you’re mourning the loss of all of humanity at once. It feels like a crypt, an urn, where 6 million people are interred.

2. The Holocaust didn’t start with Hitler screaming rabidly about filthy Jews. It started when Hitler slipped dangerous rhetoric into his speeches, blaming crime and unemployment on them.

3. There’s a three-story tall room where every inch of the walls are covered with pictures. Little kids smiling cheesily and older couples sitting next to each other, families. The only thing they have in common? Their lives were exterminated during the Holocaust.

4. A man nicknamed the Angel of Death did medical experiments on children. CHILDREN. He gouged out their leg muscles and introduced life threatening infections just to see how their bodies would react.

5. There’s a boxcar that you’re made to go into on the tour. It’s a real part of a train that transported thousands to death camps. It’s cold and it’s cramped, and the tiny windows don’t give nearly enough light to let you feel relief from the nauseating claustrophobia that creeps on you.

6. There was a children’s transport camp called Terezin, where an art teacher helped the kids express their frustration and terror through their art. They have it hanging on the walls there. It’s normal kid stuff. Butterflies and houses, people performing on stages. Underneath, the name of the child is written, and their date of death. 90℅ of them didn’t make it past 1945.

7. The worst room, by far, are the shoes. It’s a simple exhibit. Both sides of the room have containers simply filled with shoes, old and rotten. It’s not objectively sinister. Until you read the caption and realize that every last shoe came from someone gassed to death. That’s when you start noticing the petite flats and the heavy work shoes, the tiny toddler Mary Janes, faded red. You notice that each shoe had a pair of feet attached, and each pair of feet had a body attached, and each body had a life, a story, a personality, a soul, attached. And you read the poem above, which bitterly notes that the only reason that these shoes weren’t burned with their owner was because they were made of leather and not flesh and blood.

8. You end in a memorial Hall. It’s made of bright marble, and each wall bears the name of a concentration camp. There, you can light a candle. It’s small, it’s insignificant, it does nothing to stop the atrocities committed, but helps. You look above it, and you read: “For the dead and the living, we must bear witness.”

5

The one in the laundry basket and at the window is Tiny Tut, our skinny little weirdo. The other one, who is Bode and always on his back, is KitKat. He is 25 lbs of unflattering selfie gold.

Under One Condition - Carl Grimes Imagine

request: Carl x reader where they hate eachother so its sassy and get stuck somewhere, so reader suggests a way to get out. Carl agrees, but if their idea fails Carl gets to do what he wants. Idea fails, carls idea is to make out.

pairings: carl x reader, best friend tara x reader

a/n: this is really stupid and unedited and lame and dumb idk read at your own risk. i didn’t follow the prompt exactly, but i never do lmao… i hope you guys still like this :-) 

word count: 1,655

tagged users: @deeindarkwonderland @namelesslosers 


You stood against Michonne’s back as Rick forced open the door of an old store with a crowbar. Your knife was drawn, but you didn’t feel the need to get in fighting form. Michonne felt the same way–standing casually with her katana on her back. 

The door swung open with a pop, and Rick drew his gun from his holster, leading your group into the small convenient store. You waited until everyone was in before entering, making sure to leave the door cracked behind you. Tara was waiting for you at the front door when you came inside. 

Tara was your best friend. She had been since she joined your group after the Governor destroyed the prison. You were young, but you had been around the apocalypse for long enough to understand that you weren’t a kid anymore. At least, you didn’t expect to be treated like one. 

Tara and you connected almost instantly. She was a childish adult, and you were a mature child. You two balanced each other out, and you could never be without her for more than a day or two. You two even shared a house when she was with Denise, for you wouldn’t let her live in a house without you. 

“Hey, kids, come help us pack these up!” Rick called happily. Whenever you found a plethora of supplies, Rick would light up like a Christmas tree. You were going to have to give half of it up, of course, but you had to grow accustomed to scavenging for someone who didn’t care if you lived or died. 

As you reached for a bag of food to pack into a box, your hand brushed up against Carl’s. You both rolled your eyes, and you moved your hand to find another bag to begin packing. You and Carl had never really gotten along, to say the least. 

You were lonely when you met Rick’s group, and everyone expected you and Carl to get along great because of your ages. They were right, at first. You and Carl were best friends for the first few years you knew him. He was your best friend, and he was always kind and took care of you. 

Carl changed when you two were around thirteen years old. You grew to dislike him more and more each day. You wouldn’t say you hated him, but he sure as hell seemed to hate you. Whenever you would even try to be civil, he would throw all respect to the curb. 

Tara knew how much he bothered you, but she managed to remain his friend over time. You wouldn’t have minded being his friend, but you were afraid of talking with him about it, to begin with. You would never hear the end of it if he was completely unwilling to be civil with you. 

A crash was heard from outside the store, and everyone turned their heads towards the sound. You tossed the bags of food you were holding into a box and picked it up, preparing to evacuate the store before you were discovered by whatever was outside. 

“No,” Rick said, holding his hand up to you. “Let us get the boxes. Carl and (Y/N), I need you to stay in here with Tara. I’ll drive the car to the front of the store so we can load everything up, then we’re gonna leave. Michonne, grab a box. Tara, watch the kids and make sure nobody gets in here.” 

You and Carl both sighed in sync, giving disapproving looks at Rick. Rick and Michonne were out the door before either of you could complain, though. Tara began packing food and supplies into her backpack, and you and Carl each followed in her lead. 

A second crash sounded from outside the store, and Tara huffed through her teeth. “Alright, guys, stay here. I’ll be right back.” You almost told her to wait, but you hesitated for too long, and she was out the door. You glanced at Carl, who was already looking at you. He turned his head quickly. 

“Why do you hate me?” you asked calmly. “I don’t wanna start a fight or anything. I’m really just curious. Did I do something to you that I don’t remember?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized how stupid they sounded. 

“I don’t hate you,” Carl snapped. He walked away from you, but you followed him. “I just don’t think we have to be friends because we’re the same age. That’s all.” 

“Well, yeah. I agree on that, but we used to get along so well! What happened?” Your voice was becoming more and more expressive as you thought about how stupid the rivalry between the two of you was. Carl chuckled and shook his head at the ground. You waited for a response, but he didn’t give you one. 

“What happened?” you repeated, a little quieter than the last time. Carl must have noticed the change of your voice’s tone, for he looked up at you with a confused, yet endearing look on his face. 

Carl shrugged his shoulders. “We grew up.” 

The car could be heard pulling up in front of the store. Carl walked towards the door, leaving you in the back of the store. You heard the door swing open and quickly zipped up your backpack. Before you could stand up straight again, you were pulled further into the back of the store. You stood yourself up quickly, recognizing Carl as the person who was dragging you. 

“Carl, what the hell!” you exclaimed. 

“Shh,” he demanded, still holding you by the upper arm. “A car just pulled up outside, and it wasn’t dad.” 

Your eyes widened as you heard the door swing open. Carl looked around quickly, then pulled you into a room in the back hallway. Just as he shut the door and locked it behind you, the front door could be heard swinging open. Carl wasn’t satisfied with the door being locked, though. 

He scanned the room quickly and grabbed a chair tucked beneath a dusty desk and pushed it beneath the doorknob. You pushed yourself up so you were sitting on the desk. Carl turned around and began walking around the room, searching it for anything useful. 

The room was quiet until you decided to speak up. “Carl?” 

He looked up at you, raising his eyebrows. 

“What did you mean earlier? When you said we grew up, what were you talking about?” Your feet hung off the edge of the desk, swinging back and forth. 

Carl laughed to himself, shaking his head and sliding his hands over his chin. “You got hot.” 

Your eyebrows raised, and you swore you could feel your cheeks flush pink. 

“I got scared when I started thinking about you as… I don’t know. It was different, though. We were always best friends, and something just switched in me, and you were more than just pretty.” 

Your face was probably red at that point, and you couldn’t seem to bring your eyes up from your shoes. You could have sworn that he hated you, but you were apparently far from right. 

“Sorry,” he sighed with a smile. “Didn’t mean to make it weird.” 

“No,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.” 

The silence that swept over the room made it easy for you and Carl to hear the sound of a shelf falling over from inside the store. You flinched when you realized how close the unknown people were to you. You had never been so alone and so scared before. There was always someone like Rick or Glenn with you to make sure you were safe, but you and Carl were alone that time. 

Your eyes swept over the room once more as you searched for a way to escape the room you were stuck in. You only noticed two possible ways out, and they were both extremely risky. Your first option was to go out the door into the store and try to fight off the people to get to your car. Your second option was to climb out the window, which was only about one foot by two feet big. 

“I wanna get out that window,” you stated. You hopped off the desk and told Carl to help you move it beneath the window to use as a stool. 

“(Y/N), you can’t be serious,” he huffed. “There’s no way we can fit through that tiny window.” 

“Well, we don’t really have any other options,” you said, letting go of the desk and deciding on climbing an old shelf instead. 

“Yeah, we do. We’re just gonna wait this out until Dad brings a group back to get us out. He’s not just gonna leave us here,” Carl argued. You knew he was right, but you didn’t want to wait it out. You wanted to get out of the small room and back to Alexandria. 

“(Y/N), get off the shelf. I’ll help you climb out the damn window,” Carl said, giving in to your idea. 

“Thank you,” you replied. 

“Under one condition,” Carl added. “If this plan of yours doesn’t work out, then I get to kiss you.” 

Your eyes widened, and your face flushed pink once again. “All subtlety out the window, I guess.” 

“You wanna try your window idea or not?” 

If you were being honest, kissing Carl Grimes wasn’t the least appealing thing you would have had to do. You would easily pick that over several activities you had been forced to endure. 

Carl helped you pick up the desk and move it beneath the window. You climbed on top of it, so you were face to face with the small glass frame, and it was clear to you that there was no way in hell you could fit through it. 

“This isn’t going to work.” You turned back to him, and saw the noticeably apparent smirk on his face. 

“You know what that means, right?” 

Originally posted by daily-walkers