Bippityboppitystyles - Loving You's The Antidote

Fleabag and Normal People crossover skit for RTE Comic Relief (featuring Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, and Daisy Edgar-Jones)

Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky - Winter landscape, 1880s.

if u reblog this in 45 seconds u will meet ur favorite musician(s). no matter what. they will be raised from the dead 4 u.

sending so much love to everyone who feels like they’re never chosen as the best friend, as the partner, as the favorite. sending love to all of you who have been treated and felt like second best. sending love to all of you who have felt rejected and unwanted. to all of you who have had to try really hard to fit in because you felt like you never will. 

you are so loved. you will be seen and heard by the right people. you can trust that you are valuable and not defined by other people’s perceptions of you. if someone doesn’t see your worth, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

The good plot twists aren't the ones that are wild left turns out of nowhere, they're the ones that make all the other little things that didn't quite add up before suddenly click

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟔.𝟔𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

Thursday, 13 September 2018

Y/N felt weird. She had felt like this most days over the past three months. It was as if her body was restless, wanting to do something that her head did not know what was, and so she had found herself walking about her house in Nottingham, trying to find an answer somewhere that had never revealed itself. Sometimes, she looked out at the front of the house as if waiting for something or someone. Maybe Marcela would show herself again, maybe Finian or Kit would drive up and explain everything. But nothing happened. Nothing at all.

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oh, i am finally old enough to know why my parents took so long to grab their coats. why they would ask us to get ready to go only to sit down for another round of coffee. what would i tell myself, at 10 years old? it’s okay. sit down with them too. take in the extra hour with your friend and her family. when you get home, write down every moment in your diary. one day you will be older and you will be waving goodbye to your best friend, and you will turn the key to start your beat up little car engine, and you will look back over your shoulder. her hair will be blowing in the wind and she will be beautiful and you will be, for a moment, struck by all of it. what you will feel is so wide and nameless that it will engulf you. and you will think of being 14 and kicking her under the table in math every time you wanted to whisper something behind the teacher’s back. you will think about how long the days felt, and how you could hold her hand whenever you wished, but you didn’t. and you will think about all of the people you could have lingered with. and you will wish, more than you have ever felt a wish, that the universe just gave you that - more time to linger. more time to say - i love you. i know i need to leave, but i don’t want to leave you. and when i go, i am leaving a piece of my heart that lingers too. 

one more round of coffee. the days are so short, and you are so lovely.

This is what I have from my convo with Harry. You can hear my answers!!

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