AU The Fault In Our Stars where Hazel Grace succumbs to the cancer and dies and in the last scene all you see is Augustus standing out side with a cigarette between his lips and a hand slowly reaching up to light it.
What the FUCK is wrong with you
I was watching this like “I am so fucking done with this website” AND THEN IT WAS STEPHEN COLBERT
What are you so afraid of!?
I’m REALLY sorry but it looks like they’re about to rap battle
i wanna be a reverse tooth fairy where i rob people and then scatter human teeth on their bed
i dont know what your dentist is doing to you but i think you need to go to the police
im laughing so hard
(white girl voice) wait lemme go to the bathroom
are you saying only females of the white race urinate
i am an asian female and i can back this up, i havent urinated since 1902
How old r u
*whispers* how long have you been 17
I know what you are
Say it.Say it out loud.
WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THIS POST.
This is what true regret looks like.
I like it. Kind of tastes like fruit loops.
tbh it was a happy surprise. I was suspicious, but it all worked out.Trident, my apologies for judging you by your cover.
Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”
On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”.
Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes.
I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was.
This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.
When you start getting jobs, and see your mates from drama school, you don’t really want to talk about it, because you have this innate sense of guilt that it’s not fair that others aren’t doing exactly what you’re doing. I do have that.
A thoughtful soul.