The Girl from District 4


My name is Mh.
I play the harp.
I love cupcakes, dubstep, Hunger Games, Harry Potter, The Legend of Korra, and vintage clothing.
May the odds be ever in your favor!

ask away deary

Source: peetador

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sassy-gay-jake-english:

I SLEEP WITH ALL OF THEM

Source: hiddleston

Reblog if you’re a girl who likes girls, a boy who likes boys, or a person who believes it shouldn’t matter.

thequeenofshebasays:

fireandiceandrageandkittens:

saygoodbyetothevowsyoumake:

Why hasn’t everybody in the world reblogged this already.

Not enough notes. This needs all the notes. Reblog or we’re not friends anymore.

I’m the person who doesn’t think it matters, and thinks all are beautiful no matter who you love…

Source: beliefs-in-make-believe

10knotes:

Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

10knotes:

Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

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I can’t picture anyone daydreaming about me. I can’t picture someone thinking about me when they’re laying in bed before they fall asleep. I can’t picture anyone telling their friends about me. I can’t picture anyone getting butterflies because I hugged them, or even just because I made eye contact with them. I can’t picture someone smiling because my name lit up their phone. I just can’t.

darklydeviant:

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just-art:

The Book Thief by ArtPhish
“I was once a living child and books were my only companion. They taught me, however to love everything even my own father who neglected me. I couldn’t have known it but my Death came early. I couldn’t have known it but my father finally missed me. My loss was too great a pain that he finally sought to recreate me. Of course, he never see the result coming. The darkness that once consumed my heart when I was alive and lonely became too profound and my re-created image mirrored it. Looking at me, my dad grief and shut me up. In the dark, I waited. But my hunger for words and stories consumed my patience. I would give anything for a book. Anything.”

just-art:

The Book Thief by ArtPhish

“I was once a living child and books were my only companion. They taught me, however to love everything even my own father who neglected me. I couldn’t have known it but my Death came early. I couldn’t have known it but my father finally missed me. My loss was too great a pain that he finally sought to recreate me. Of course, he never see the result coming. The darkness that once consumed my heart when I was alive and lonely became too profound and my re-created image mirrored it. Looking at me, my dad grief and shut me up. In the dark, I waited. But my hunger for words and stories consumed my patience. I would give anything for a book. Anything.”

Source: just-art