Date a girl who draws. Her bag is littered with pens and pencils instead of mascaras and eyeliners. She spends her time glorifying her environment rather than herself.
Date a girl who draws. She finds her hands take on a mind of their own. She might find them tangled in your hair and in your hands, running along your spine and the small of your back.
Date a girl who draws. She knows how to complement colours. She’ll cater to your purple days and your yellow days. She’ll match your blue with her orange, and she’ll know the difference between red and pink.
Date a girl who draws. She understands the importance of interpretation. She’ll look at an argument from different perspectives and take them into account before she speaks.
Date a girl who draws. She sees beyond the literal. To her, the human body is more than just flesh and bones wrapped in layers of skin; it is a world of valleys, hills and plains, of crevices and hollows that need to be explored with her fingertips so that she may translate them onto paper.
Date a girl who draws. She’ll find the littlest subject and transform it into a work of art. You never know- she just might do the same with you.
Bobby is a great character and all and I love him a lot but imagine tho…
If Karen Singer had been the one to kill her husband and become a hunter.
Imagine Karen stress baking to escape what her life has become instead of turning to the bottle. Imagine Karen compulsively stocking every bit of information she can find to make sure her personal tragedy doesn’t happen again. Imagine Karen wearing her husband old cap to remember what can always happen if you aren’t constantly on your guard.
Imagine Karen forming a friendship with Ellen Harvelle, making her name famous in the hunter’s life, no matter her gender. Imagine Karen being a model for young huntress who grew up into a world governed by men. Imagine Karen being this weird aunt for every young hunter left in the wild and offering a roof and pies to every lost soul who comes to her.
Imagine Karen and John grudging friendship and the bitter mornings they spent, each one holding to their wedding rings and the memories of their loved ones lost in the war against evil. Imagine them butting heads and hunting together and earning their names as the ‘badass duo’.
Imagine Karen burying a body with Rufus and bickering with him when he bullshits his way through ‘it’s Sabbath I can’t help you digging the grave’. Imagine Karen and Rufus hugging after a bad hunt and offering the other comfort. Imagine them being epic best friends and sending each other crappy sms because they miss each other but they don’t ever want to admit it.
Imagine Karen kissing Jody Mills in a fit of happiness. Imagine an Alternate Universe when she was more than a friend for Ellen. Imagine Karen having flings with other ladies hunters - sure, she loved Bobby and she still misses him badly but she can allow herself a bit of happiness once and them.
Imagine Karen baking Dean pies all the time and always making sure he eats and reassuring him when he puts a bit of weight ‘listen up, boy, if you feel good in your body, it’s perfect for me, I don’t care what others say’. Imagine Karen encouraging Sam’s research and letting him read all the books he wants. Imagine Karen letting Dean play with her cars and soothing Sam’s pains when his grown spurt hits. She doesn’t read them stories but she always make sure their blankets are warm enough.
Imagine Karen adopting two boys, two boys who grew up heroes and she wasn’t their mother, she was no Mary Winchester but she was still someone who counted for them and if sometimes Dean or Sam slips and calls her ‘mom’, they all pretend not to hear but she always makes sure to hug them tightly.
Imagine if Karen Singer lived.
(I have a lot of feelings about Karen Singer, ok.)