Woohoo! I just ordered my proof copy of my book 🙂
It’ll get here about July 2, I’ll go through it one more time, then go about making it actually available to the public.
believeinthebeautyofourdreams:
John Green is my favourite person.
I think I’ve reblogged this before. I don’t care, doing it again
believeinthebeautyofourdreams:
John Green is my favourite person.
I think I’ve reblogged this before. I don’t care, doing it again
kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirk:
There was no movement from Kirk at all.
What breaks my heart the most about these reactions is that everyone has suddenly become their own opposite in the face of Kirk’s death. Energetic, joking Scotty looks like he’s aged at least ten years with grief, like he’ll never smile again. Strong, put-together Uhura completely breaks down. Spock gives no fucks about holding in his emotions. Bones looks like a child who just watched one of his parents walk out on him forever. They aren’t Jim’s crew anymore, not in these brief moments. They’re entirely different people.
I LAUGHED REALLY LOUDLY AT HOW PISSED DEAN WOULD BE IF SAM BROUGHT THIS HOME
“I’m back, Dean! Guess what I brought!” Sam called as he let himself into their hotel room.
“Took you long enough. What, some conditioner?” Dean didn’t even try to move from his spot on the bed. He was busy looking through the newspaper for reasons known only to Dean Winchester.
“Nope. Your favorite thing.” Sam pulled the plastic container out of the grocery bag and waved it at just the right angle. Dean glanced over, seeing the flash of crust strips over red filling.
“Dude! You got an entire freaking pie?” Dean was on his feet and after the pie instantly. It’d been weeks since they’d gotten decent pie.
Sam grinned enthusiastically as he set it on the table. “Yeah. Dig in. It’s not fresh, but its probably good.” He retreated out of the room.
Dean worked the clear covering off and found a fork somewhere. There was something kind of weird about the pie, but he didn’t care. Mouth watering, he dug the fork in and-
What the.
There was no thick, liquid resistance against the fork edge, no stain of red juice bubbling over the edges from the pressure. He forked out a bite and lifted it, staring in disbelief.
It was white cake.
It was fucking white cake disguised as pie.
“FUCKING HELL, SAMMY, I’M GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS SENSELESS!”
i had to
ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!
I POSTED THIS THIS MORNING, HOW HAVE YOU ALREADY ANIMATED SOMETHING FOR IT?!
I’M SO IMPRESSED THAT I’M NOT EVEN MAD ABOUT THE 11,000 NOTES ANYMORE