“You’re punishing him over and over for things that are out of his control. Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t have a fully loaded weapon next to you round the clock. But I think it’s time you flipped this little scenario around in your head. If you’d been taken by the Capitol, and hijacked, and then tried to kill Peeta, is this the way he would be treating you?” demands Haymitch. I fall silent. It isn’t. It isn’t how he would be treating me at all.
He would be trying to get me back at any cost. Not shutting me out, abandoning me, greeting me with hostility at every turn.
Então, criei um novo TDD e vou começar do 0. Criei outro porque o antigo está muito sobrecarregado. Está mais esclarecido no novo grupo e o antigo grupo será deletado.
Pra quem não sabe é meu grupo no facebook, onde as pessoas divulgam seu tumblr, fazem amizades, trocam idéias e sai do tédio.
Quem puder reblogar pra ajuda na divulgação, agradeço. Quero ver todos lá ♡♡♡
or Johanna Mason(asked by suchasugarcube)
If you knew what Finnick’s been through the last few years, you’d know how remarkable it is he’s still with us at all.
Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don’t want to miss any of them.
With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water. One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.