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Reblog if you actually give a shit about anyone who’s suicidal or depressed.

No one should scroll past this

My 4 year old nephew loves to paint his nails. Any time he sees someone wear nail polish he asks if he can have some too. The most difficult part is getting him to decide what color, because he he wants all of them.

Nail polish is for everyone.

when i was

a new fan

my otp dragged me down to hell where

i linger to this day.

they said “child when

you grow up

read lots of fluff and stay away from angst

or you’ll cry everyday”.

AND I DIDNT LISTEN CUZ IM A DUMB BITCH 

“LGBT people are so annoying. All they talk about is being gay.”

You know what I hear when I hear somebody say this?

I hear myself in fifth grade, asking my best friend if she would hate me if I were gay.

I hear her begging me not to be gay.

I hear myself telling my mother I think I’m transgender. I hear her telling me it is fine that I feel this way, but that she really doesnt think I should do anything about it. I hear her telling me not to say anything to my family.

I hear myself trying to justify away my sexuality. I hear myself bargaining with a god i dont believe in to please please let me be cis. I would have done anything.

I hear the cries of every child who cannot say they are gay anywhere and feel safe.

I hear the screams of the thousands of us silenced daily through force.

I hear the years of taunts and derogatory slurs.

I hear the voices of those who believe we should not exist. that we are freaks of nature and that we need to be cured.

So no, I wont shut up. I wont stop saying “I’m so gay.” I dont care if it annoys you.

Every time I say I’m gay it is an act of revolution. Every time I say I’m gay I’m exercising my right to be able to say it. A right that I wouldnt have had ten, twenty, thirty years ago. I am exercising my right to be me without facing execution.

If you think pride month is excessive, if you think that its rude for people to say they’re gay all the time, you should learn your place.

“But straight people dont go around bragging that they’re straight all the time.” Because you’ve never had to fight to be able to call yourself straight. You’ve never felt the pain to not be able to say you’re straight, and then the relief when you are finally able to.

So i dont care if you think its cringey, or annoying, or unnecessary. Because i am super gay and theres nothing that will make me stop being proud.

So I wanted to find some badass fanart on the Internet, but apparently Google knows better:

this fandom and these ppl keep me going :)

REBLOG IF YOU THINK VANYA HARGREEVES DESERVED BETTER

Perfect Ten

Summary:  Just like his freckles and bowlegs, Dean’s slight pudge has always been a part of himself that he’s never felt completely comfortable with.  After a few miserable days of unsuccessful dieting and choking down rabbit food, Cas reminds him exactly how beautiful he is.   

“You’re getting kinda chubby!”  

Charlie makes this remark lightly, offhandedly, as she passes by Dean on the way to breakfast that morning:  Dean had been stretching his arms overhead in a yawn so that his cotton shirt rode up over his stomach, which Charlie takes the opportunity to poke.

Startled, he looks down just in time to see the disconcerting way in which her fingertip sort of smushes into the soft, freckly flesh.  

Dean halts in his tracks, blinking comprehensively.  “Wait, what?”  is all he can think to say.

Charlie, who’d been nonchalantly continuing on her way down the hall, turns to look at him.  “Well, you don’t have to sound so offended about it,” she laughs.  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way or anything!”

Dean folds his arms defensively.  “Then what did you mean, Charles?”

“First of all, I answer only to Charlie, Ms. Bradbury, or the Illustrious Queen of Moondoor.  Next, I just meant you put on a couple pounds.  Maybe getting a bit of a tummy.  It’s no big deal.”

Dean looks comprehensively down at his stomach.  Now that he thinks about it, he has been eating more these days – he’s been going through sort of a “nesting period” during his relationship with Cas:  lots of baking pies, burgers, etc.  He didn’t think it was noticeable.  

Taking note of the gravity of his expression, Charlie laughs, punching him lightly in the shoulder.  “You don’t have to look so glum about it!  It’s cute.”

Dean glowers at her, tugging self consciously at his t-shirt.  “M’not cute,” he mutters grouchily.  “I’m a warrior.”

Charlie laughs again.  “Alright, warrior.  Hurry up and take care of your morning breath – Kevin’s making waffles again!”

With that, Charlie skips off down the hall, leaving Dean to steep in his juices.  He lets Charlie laugh it off, of course – he knows she didn’t mean any harm – but the fact is, Dean’s always known he’s had a little bit of pudge around his midsection, and he’s always been the slightest bit insecure about it.  Just like his freckles and bowlegs, it’s one of the things about himself that he’s never particularly liked.  

His one solace was convincing himself that these features weren’t as noticeable to everyone else as they are to him.  Now, that seems to have changed.  

Dean pulls up the rim of his shirt, noting sourly the way in which his pudge protrudes slightly over the waistband of his pajama pants.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel so hungry anymore.

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