"[Max] Said if I turned over the cache, you'd be safe. And it ain't just the lie. She tried to take you away from me. When I left that island... all I could think about was having a chance to make her pay... for what she done.
Now that we're here... it would be so easy. And I don't wanna do it. Don't wanna live with it after. Sight of her hurt in that way. Just don't want it.
That fucking island. Makes you do shit you don't wanna do. How is it we haven't figured that out by now? What the hell are we doing back here, Jack?"
taylor standing on the scales while the other taylor tells her no after she looks at what it says with the photo of marjorie in the background is so powerful
This is all because I wanted to draw Arven with a lil braid and it got out of control with me letting my kids be friends.
Some formal event and Arven is like "I'll bring this along because Penny will probably have one" and then they don't have one so he has to give them his. And he's like "ok so i have heard of a security blanket but not a security boa......".
the birth of harry finally come to life, thanks to the incredible visions depicted in de amore ex tempore, a fic by @persephoneflouwers that has me dreaming like i haven't in a while. thank you <3
…Then in my most carefull handwritting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget. Lady licking Prim’s cheek. My father’s laugh. Peeta’s father with the cookies. The color of Finnick’s eyes. What Cinna could do with a lenght of silk. Boggs reprograming the holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count. Haymitch finally joins us, contributing twenty-three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller. An old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Strange bits of happines, like the photo of Finnick and Annie’s newborn son.