drugs-and-tea-with-jareds-deer:

huggleston:

Dearest Cecilia, the story can resume. The one I had been planning on that evening walk. I can become again the man who once crossed the surrey park at dusk, in my best suit, swaggering on the promise of life. The man who, with the clarity of passion, made love to you in the library. The story can resume. I will return. Find you, love you, marry you and live without shame.

Cries

insertcleverusernamehere:

Oh. My. God. Be mine.

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.

So after, when he whispers, You love me. Real or not real? I tell him, Real.

ihuggedmikeyway:

G-P-O-Y *sighs*

thewhoreors:

petition for my favourite band to play every song they ever wrote in one gig no matter how long it takes