All I have done is speak the truth. Are men so fragile they cannot bear to hear it? She might have wept then, had not the sky begun to do it for her.

michaelgclifford:

@ fans everywhere

stop mobbing

theres no excuse for mobbing

dont be like oh i was there but i didnt mob!! u were a part of it u rushed forward just like everyone else u squished in on the person and made it super uncomfortable and scary for them and for what

to say u ‘met’ them lmfao 

to get a blurry picture of them looking terrified while you look creepy as hell

def worth it !

annieodaire:

"…I have just enough time to release the small, choked sound in my throat and compose myself.I put my hands behind my back and stare into the distance."-The Hunger Games

"I stand alone in a small roped-off area with Peeta and Haymitch in a similar pen to the right of me. The reaping takes only a minute."-Catching Fire


highrelease:

Daughter | Get Lucky (Cover)

superlouis:

image

I’m so fucking sick of hating my body and not feeling sexy and confident because of stretch marks for so many years. The pressure to have perfect smooth, blemish free skin like models in the magazine is overwhelming and the image is unrealistic. More people have to realize that society’s image of “perfection” is unattainable and in order to truly be happy, you have to accept your body for what it is and learn to love every inch of it. I’m beginning to love my stripes, they make me unique and as one person once put so beautifully put(I forgot who), they occur bc you’re so freaking awesome that your body can’t even handle you.

Ps if this image “offends” you then you can fuck off, because I really don’t care for what you say to be honest. I hope that by posting this, people with skin like mine will be more confident and feel more beautiful and normal and maybe even strive to accept their stripes and love themselves more. 

so I made a the nbhd/the 1975/grunge-y kind of blog you should all check it out :-)

posted 2 days ago with 0 notes
#-jo

It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew - and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents - that there was all the difference in the world.