I am Divergent!

Sarah, Ireland, 17 years old, The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, Divergent, Vampire Diaries and all that good stuff c:

Stay with me Gwen. You stay with me.

(via whosjeangrey)

make me choose: anonymous asked

allydia or sciles

(via hoechin)

Allison Argent + Curls

(via kirayukimura)

wittyandcharming:

  • Don’t be angry at yourself when anxiety/depression flares up. It isn’t your fault and no one blames you and if they do they’re pieces of shit.
  • Don’t orbit around your perceived value so much. You’re not the sum total of what you produce.
  • Don’t let yourself wonder why people love you. That’s not how it works. There are not stark, individual reasons that a person can enumerate about why they love you. It’s the entire, unique combination of what and who you are.

(via theyatemytailorr)

“Some infinities are smaller than others, even so, you should cherish the small infinity you may have. It’s possible to make numbered days last infinity, don’t waste your life hoping for things that may never happen, cherish the things you have and the people around you. Life isn’t just sad and depressing, it’s full of beauty, all you have to do is look for it.

(via prior-tris)

So, yes, for the fucking love of God, movies matter. TV shows matter. Novels matter. They shape the lens through which you see the world. The very fact that you don’t think they matter, that even right now you’re still resisting the idea, is what makes all of this so dangerous to you — you watch movies so you can turn off your brain and let your guard down. But while your guard is down, you’re letting them jack directly into that part of your brain that creates your mythology. If you think about it, it’s an awesome responsibility on the part of the storyteller. And you’re comfortable handing that responsibility over to Michael Bay.
like a  g i r l

(via allisonargend)

-You’re okay?
-Once my heart starts beating again, yeah.

(via paulvedre)

dreammetheworld:

Anna and the French Kiss

Atlanta was home for almost eighteen years, and though I’ve only known Paris for the last nine months, it’s changed me. I have a new city to learn next year, but I’m not scared.
Because I was right. For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It’s a person.
And we’re finally home.

Lola and the Boy Next Door

“Are you ready?” he asks.
“I am.”
“Are you scared?”
“I’m not.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it. I hold my head high toward my big entrance, hand in hand with the boy who gave me the moon and the stars.

Isla and the Happily Ever After

“The last page.” He gestures towards the table, where a pencilled sketch is being turned into inked brushstrokes. It’s a drawing of us, in this café, in this moment.
I smile up at him. “It’s beautiful. But what comes next?”
“The best part.” And he pulls me back into his arms. “The happily ever after.”

(via thenightofthecomet)