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.

brienne—of—tarth:

tobecuntinued:

jomi-ryo:

spentitonammo:

luceateis:

23rd Annual GLAAD Media Awards

Congratulations, Josh, you have identified the true scourge of the queer community: labels. If we cease having words for ways in which people are different those differences will go away!!!!

Do you also ~not see color~? Just wondering.

#congratulations #you win fucking nothing #fuck off #I’m glad you have rode in on your white horse of excessive straightness to bring us this wisdom #would you like a fucking cookie

would this block headed fuck shut up already

Josh, have several seats

i know he means well but omg ok how can i explain this? its kinda like when you’re going upstairs and then you trip then you try to get up quickly and keep going up but you keep tripping

cemetery:

Part II of The Hunger Games Districts posters by Cemetery
(click for part I)