i'm still freaking out about it

orange limbo

He’s dreaming.

There’s just—there’s no way it’s her. 

He becomes aware of his mouth hanging open, and the gaping, and gets himself together. She’s within hail, but if she continued looking out the bridge like that, James can still walk away without her noticing him. And then he can… well, he can go home and tell the others that he’d seen Lily freaking Evans at his brooding bridge, but that he’d walked away because… well, why exactly? This is his brooding bridge. He’s come here for every rotten thing that’s happened in his life since he found it, and not once was she ever here. He’s pretty sure he’d remember if she was. Why should he have to go just because she’s some immensely famous (really fucking gorgeous; he can’t believe she’s even better-looking in person) celebrity?

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hOLY SHIT. so I was sleeping when my mom called me and I half asleep answered it and she just basically screamed through the phone that this radio station was giving out vip passes to the victory tour here in houston and so still half asleep I slowly SLOWLY scroll through my phone to dial the radio station and ONE try, ONE FUCKING TRY I got through. I was having convulsions cause I’ve never gotten through on this radio station before. so I had to play a game with another contestant and eventually I fucking won and I GUESS YOU COULD SAY THE ODDS WERE IN MY FAVOR THIS MORNING. god. I probably look worse than katniss after hearing the jabberjays at the arena right now

I'M AN ENGLISH GENIUS I AM.

I can’t help it. I’m still geeking out over my Zombie essay.

I mean, one minute my teacher finishes grading a nice essay about uniforms in schools, and the ridiculous price of college or how teachers should be chosen better…

and then he picks up mine, and the title is “This is an Emergency Broadcast”. and when he finishes it, he realizes it’s an essay about how the public needs to be more aware of an impending zombie outbreak.

Then he goes and gives it a 95 out of 100.

I’M A FREAKING ENGLISH WIIIIZZZZAAAAARRRD!!!!!!!!!!

I MEAN. I WROTE AN ESSAY ABOUT ZOMBIES, IN A COLLEGE COURSE, AND IT WAS GOOD ENOUGH, DESPITE IT’S NEAR RIDICULOUS TOPIC, TO TOTALLY PASS.

NOOOO

NICK WALKS IN MY ROOM AND GOES GUESS WHO I HUNG OUT WITH YESTERDAY AND OBVIOUSLY I HAVE NO IDEA SO HE GOES “BOB SAGET” AND I WAS LIKE

NICK DID YOU ASK ABOUT THE MOTHER

AND HE GOES HUH?

AND THEN I ASKED AGAIN VERY LOUDLY DID YOU ASK ABOUT THE MOTHER?!

AND HE GOES WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

AND SO I YELL AND SIMULTANEOUSLY HIT HIM WITH A NEWSPAPER FOR EACH WORD, NICK BOB SAGET IS NARRATER TED FROM HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER YOU COULD’VE ASKED HIM ABOUT THE MOTHER

AND THEN HE STARTS LAUGHING AND GOES OHHHH I DIDN’T KNOW THAT WAS HIM

AND THEN I STARTED HITTING HIM REPEATEDLY AND HE JUST KEPT LAUGHING AND IT’S JUST LIKE

C'MON, NICK. NICK. REALLY. NIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO