i have been really mentally unstable the last week or so. so, my husband tried to cheer me up by sketching this post-mockingjay pregnant katniss and peeta in the wildflowers. to say i am touched is an understatement. i am SOBBING.
“i try to imagine… a place like the meadow in the song I sang to rue as she died. where peeta’s child could be safe.” - katniss, catching fire.
I suddenly want to tell Peeta everything about who he is, and who I am, and how we ended up here. But I don’t know where to start. Worthless. I’m worthless - Mockingjay p.316
Finally finished this piece based originally off a text post by @thesweetnessofspring but it kinda spiralled into its own very big thing oops
Happy pride month to sleepwalking lesbians and their horrified wives, bisexuals who are fine with their sexuality but not fine with being in love with their high school bestie, JV soccer coaches, lesbians who would rather die to spite the girl they love than admit they’re gay, church girlies who fell in love with a prophetess they made themselves, milfs who “don’t believe in labels”, bisexuals who fell in love with one guy in high school and spend the rest of their life going back to him until he’s gone, lesbians who are entirely obsessed with their besties to the point of absorbing their traits like a twin in the womb, milf chasing bisexuals, lesbians who cannot be killed by fire nor by wolves nor (probably) by cancer, snarky sapphics, musical theater gays, little boys with two moms, backwards-baseball-hat lesbians, femme princesses who want to emulate their teammates, men fridged for their adjacence to a queer woman, mlm with a favorite lesbian, baby brothers who never figured it out, sapphics studying for the SATs, the children of women closeted in the 90s, and the straight girl whose leg they broke.
