This is the most beautiful thing. Can we send her flowers?
I will actually send her flowers like for real, I am on 1800 flowers RIGHT NOW because this is truly beautiful and probably actually a bit necessary?
oh man, let’s, she deserves them
oh my god what a wonderful person
After hearing all the hoopla for The Fault in Our Stars in the Nerdfighter community here, I decided to start somewhere earlier in the Green canon.
Thank you, Amazon. I shall see you in a few days, Book.
In other words, Senior Thesis, I challenge you to a duel for my interest.
My stylist’s name is Valencia. A top-heavy woman with bouncing brown curls piled high around her head, the makeup she applies makes her eyes seem to appear out of clusters of stars. Her skin is the loveliest shade of ivory I’ve ever seen on someone. So many people back home have been burned or maimed in the factories that almost noone is scar-less.
Caffeine, you are my best friend.
Also- Hayley and I are hypothetically engaged. To be hypothetically married.
I’d put up a picture of us, but I haven’t Hayley’s permission, and seeing as it’s 6.26 and 32 seconds AM, I’m not going to text and ask.
So instead, here you go! I totally found in through google image search…
CLEARLY, I’m the one with pigtails, since Hayley’s got mad curly hair…
Although I’m pretty sure she’d never be caught dead in a belly shirt… Or with a lollipop.
You heard it there first. I am hypothetically engaged to thespiders. This is an artistic rendering of our engagement photo. It was taken outside of Hogwarts, thus the magically curtailed shirt caused by a backfiring trim spell (I had a stray thread, okay?!)
Also, we were lucky enough to run into Firenze, who gave me a lollipop in solemn commemoration of the joyous—though human—event. Notice how swirly it is, like the “vast heavens that teem and spin above us”.
Or something like that. Horseboy is a little out there.
Just lurking around thehungergames tag and writing more fanfiction.
Is it weird that I feel more creative than I have in months.
[I had a choice of whether to finish my homework, or do this. Guess which I chose?]
A rectangle of mottled light plays across my bed. The train has been moving westward all afternoon and into the night, and the trees that grow in stretches alongside the track fascinate me. I hold out my hand, and watch the shadows of leaves against moonlight speckle my fingers. I’d never seen a tree before we began speeding toward the Capitol.