Why I say our education system is flawed (via perfect-delusions)
this is so heartbreakingly true, and that fact is disgusting.
There are two rocking chairs sitting on that old wraparound porch that Sam wanted. One’s light yellow, the paint flaking from years of use and weather. The other’s burgundy, more rustic and worn-in. That’s because it’s been sat in every morning for thirty-five years. The other hasn’t been sat in in nearly ten.
They’re still in that same spot. There are indentions in the wood from where they rocked together, sat together, drank beer together. They’re both facing East, the way Sam wanted, but angled a little towards eachother, like side-by-side wasn’t close enough.
This particular morning, Dean knows. He’s been wary of it for some time now, but not scared. Never scared. He’s been waiting for this day since November 2nd, 2028.
The sun is coming up, and he’s getting colder. He wraps his blanket tighter around him, and he closes his eyes. He smiles, because he knows. He’s ready.
His coffee mug falls from his.hand, and he doesn’t bother to pick it up. He imagines the stain it will cause, his mind’s eye pictures it puddling around him, washing over his socks. He wishes the hot liquid would touch him, seep into his skin, wake him up. He’s so cold.
A warm hand envelops his own, and he doesn’t open his eyes, though he knows. One word makes him warm again. Just one word brings him to life.
He looks then, and he’s almost blinded by what he sees. Sammy’s there beside him, just where he always sat, looking very much like Dean’s memories, only so very different. He looks 22 again, all smiles and tan skin and hopeful eyes. He is made of sunshine and he smells like Summer. He holds Dean’s hand as they rock together, watching each other.
Dean spares a glance down at himself and is surprised to see his necklace on his chest, along with his young, toned stomach and his favorite leather boots. He is made of something otherworldly as well, nut not sunshine like Sam. Maybe moonlight. Or wind.
"Dean," his brother says again, and Dean looks back to him, his smile as radiant as the sun, but the sunrise is gone. Dean wonders if Sam was the sunrise.
Sam laughs, “You’re such a girl, Dean.”
And just like that, Dean is alive again, walking hand in hand towards the sun. But it isn’t the end. Oh no. Dean has seen Heaven before, and knows that this is only the beginning.
Tomorrow is another day
And you won't have to hide away.
You'll be a man, boy
But for now it's time to run, it's time to run.
the winchester brothers wanna grow old by each other’s side they wanna be every minute of their lives side by side and then go to heaven together and spend all eternity holding hands tell ur parents tell ur frands
you okay, Sammy?
yeah, Dean, stop asking
you know I won’t
yeah, I know
you wanna get ice cream?
can we, really?
dude, I think you deserve an ice cream after getting your arm broken like that
dean, you’re awesome
yeah, I know
Found this via reddit
finally something that treats introverts and extroverts as equals
The punctuation is even accurate holy shit
Freaking thank you. Being shy and being an introvert are not the same thing, as well as being obnoxious and being an extrovert.
my fifth grade teacher once told my parents in a report that i was “comma happy”
graphic i made for my upcoming pay-what-you-want sketchbook, you can buy it on a thing too!
You know what the Green Heron is basically the best heron because it is like 90% neck so when it is all folded down it looks like a giant head with wings and legs
but then suddenly ZOOP
fucking green herrons
breaking bad as a stoner comedy
It’s not quite done. One more pass and it should be though.
Good night world.
Karkat: I’M NOT
Karkat: A HOMOSEXUAL
John: What’s that mean?? :B