If it were up to me, I would try to forget the Hunger Games entirely. Never speak of them. Pretend they were nothing but a bad dream.

— Shared 4 months ago on January 16 with 3,196 notes via freefolking (Source)


“Finnick?” I say, “Maybe some pants?

— Shared 4 months ago on January 09 with 9,716 notes via naevia (Source)


'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn

— Shared 4 months ago on January 09 with 5,499 notes via freefolking (Source)


— Shared 5 months ago on December 04 with 1,323 notes via wildlinging (Source)


— Shared 6 months ago on November 02 with 1,553 notes via volchitza (Source)


— Shared 7 months ago on October 22 with 1,734 notes via roselands (Source)


— Shared 7 months ago on October 19 with 3,770 notes via foxfaced (Source)


hungoverhaymitch:

The bird, the pin, the song, the berries, the watch, the cracker, the dress that burst into flames. I am the mockingjay. The one that survived despite the Capitol’s plans. The symbol of the rebellion.

hungoverhaymitch:

The bird, the pin, the song, the berries, the watch, the cracker, the dress that burst into flames. I am the mockingjay. The one that survived despite the Capitol’s plans. The symbol of the rebellion.

— Shared 7 months ago on October 16 with 5,239 notes via canalcat (Source)


hungoverhaymitch:

Peeta and I grow back together again. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.

hungoverhaymitch:

Peeta and I grow back together again. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.
— Shared 7 months ago on October 09 with 5,379 notes via canalcat (Source)




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