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Cheers to 70 Years! 🎉🎊🥳🎂
They're now red carpet official 😍
“Happy late birthday Miffy” (June 23rd, 2025)
I know Miffy's birthday is on the 21st but oughhhh i was too busy with college.... Finally pulled through though... this drawing is made with Instagram carousel in mind so click here to see it properly!
Denzel Washington 👑
⎯⎯⎯⎯ @70th sent : gently, slowly, she’s running her fingers through his hair, marvelling at the threads of silver shot throughout. arcing up onto her toes ( a touch more wobbly than she used to be - ankles thin from malnutrition) annie presses her lips to finnick’s brow, murmuring against his skin. “ i almost forgot how beautiful you are. ”
he can’t meet her eyes. one sneaking glance and the sight of her eyes on him, HIS GRAY HAIR, and all he feels is the swelling urge to cover his head with both hands and hide what he can of his hair and appearance. he keeps his arms loose and around her middle, he doesn’t give in to the shame. he has missed her touch too much to go batting it away. it doesn’t stop him from needing to shut his eyes altogether, from which tears have already started on their respective paths down his face. her lips on his skin, they keep him standing and tethered. “annie i—” his annie thinks he’s beautiful, silver streaks and all. and his breath catches, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. his confession sits in his throat, rearranging itself every which way wondering how he might break to her that he has forgotten— that when he might’ve been of mind to even care for a thing like beauty that he has only hissed at himself and covered up sources of reflections. he was beautiful once… once. annie thinks he’s beautiful.
❝ You shouldn't insult people that are stronger than you. ❞
@70th. hit the heart for a one liner. : accepting !
@70th gets katniss everdeen
sand presses against my cheek and i feel like i could count every grain by indent alone, if given the time. the sun feels warm through the sleeves of the shirt i'm wearing ( despite the heat, and the fact my pants are sodden where i've rolled them up to my knees, i still can't - - - i can't make myself bare my arms and legs with their new-skin-patchiness, healed but still different ) and the sound of water lapping the shore fills my ears. i keep my eyes closed. if i open them i might mistake this beach for one split into twelve even wedges. with my eyes closed it's strangely easier to remember where i am, my chest rising and falling evenly, my fingers against the sand.
"annie?" prim would have liked it here. dr aurelius says i have to stop making myself stop thinking about her. it'll hurt forever, and i need to be able to ... remember her in a way that doesn't feel like hands around my throat. he'd probably have a lot to say about that comparison. "are you happy?"