I hope when you die you get to see your stats like how many times you laughed or told a lie or kissed or how many people loved you and how many people hated you and what you meant to people
i hit my coworkers shoulder lightly and he was like “you’re going to make me cry like a girl” and i was like “what’s wrong with being a girl?” and he was quiet for a moment then he looked into the distance and whispered “the social standards they’re forced to live by”
my favorite thing about school was sitting with your friend and flipping through a random textbook pointing at ugly pictures and saying “that’s you.”
So i have this giant pencil right
I think we all know where this is going.
the amount of people saying that they were expecting me to shove it up my ass is alarming
Things I want:
For someone to worry about Dean.
For someone to take notice of Dean’s pain
For someone to tell Dean that he is special
For someone to go out of there way to help/protect Dean
Castiel. The thing you just described is called a Castiel.