Darling, Oh! Darling!

(Fuente: burdge)

burdge:

theunbreakablev0w:

EXCUSE ME WHILE I SOB IN A CORNER

Show me your teeth (Tomada con instagram)

(vía thegingermermaid)

Ellos tan intensos suturando (Tomada con instagram)

(vía capitol-games)

Guess who….. :P

(vía burdge)

There is no District 12 by ~TottieWoodstock

Until one time, I open my eyes and find someone I cannot block out looking down at me. Someone who will not plead, or explain, or think he can alter my design with entreaties, because he alone really knows how I operate.

“Gale,” I whisper.

“Hey, Catnip.”
He reaches down and pushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. One side of his face has been burned fairly recently. His arm is in a sling, and I can see bandages under his miner’s shirt. What has happened to him? How is he even here? Something very bad has happened back home.
It is not so much a question of forgetting Peeta as remembering the others. All it takes is one look at Gale and they come surging into the present, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Prim?” I gasp.

“She’s alive. So is your mother. I got them out in time,” he says.

“They’re not in District Twelve?” I ask.

“After the Games, they sent in planes. Dropped firebombs.” He hesitates. “Well, you know what happened to the Hob.”

I do know. I saw it go up. That old warehouse embedded with coal dust. The whole district’s covered with the stuff. A new kind of horror begins to rise up inside me as I imagine firebombs hitting the Seam.
“They’re not in District Twelve?” I repeat. As if saying it will somehow fend off the truth.

“Katniss,” Gale says softly.

I recognize that voice. It’s the same one he uses to approach wounded animals before he delivers a deathblow. I instinctively raise my hand to block his words but he catches it and holds on tightly.

“Don’t,” I whisper.

But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me. “Katniss, there is no District Twelve.

(Fuente: drumouse, vía thegingermermaid)