Je ne sais pas quoi faire

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death-limes:

lumos5001:

scotsmcall:

zaynyboy:

ok but literally how

HE TURNED FOUR BIRDS INTO A PERSON THIS IS OBVIOUSLY A WIZARD WHO HAS ESCAPED HOGWARTS SOMEONE CALL THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC FUCK THIS (via fortheloveofotps)

i dont know if im entertained or terrified

(via shipatfirstsight)

"

Up until my second year of high school,
I allowed myself to believe that I wasn’t like other girls
as if there was something fundamentally wrong with other girls
that I had to disinherit.

I used ‘girly girl’ as an insult
like the carefully applied foundation, the long-learned eyeliner
the too-bright lipstick they nearly missed their bus to put on
made them less.

Unlearning was a slow process that I’m still slogging through.
I catch myself raising my eyebrows at a girl on the other side of the room
and have to make myself remember it doesn’t mean shit.
Femininity is not a synonym with stupid or frivolous or weak;
I’ve seen girls who can shiv with a high-heel and look great doing it
or they can sweat and grunt and spit and not give a damn either way.

Your worth is not a win-or-lose depending on if your skirt goes below your knees.

Whether makeup or a bare face or fake eyelashes so heavy you have to squint
a long dress or inch-long skirt or jeans that rip at the knee or shorts that flash your underwear
dreadlocks or metal ear-stretchers or leggings without pants or bedazzled neon nails
bikini or burqa or hair shaved in strips or long plaid shirts
a hoodie that needed washing three weeks ago or dangling earrings or worn out sneakers
a scarf to hide your adam’s apple or sunglasses that cover half your face
braces or glasses or pigtails or a jagged pink mohawk or eighteen clearly visible tattoos-

Wear it as battle armour.

"

- 'You'll Get Shit For It Anyway,' theappleppielifestyle. (via theblueboxonbakerstreet)

(Source: theappleppielifestyle, via lostbutyoucanfollow)

"

Growing up I always thought true love was red roses, dates on Saturday nights, little block box that held expensive things, and always knowing what to say. I thought true love was a kiss in the rain, deep explanations, and the perfect story. But now that I’m older I’ve realized it’s not like that at all.

See because true love for me is ugly snapchats, and peeing while you’re on the phone. True love is kissing at 6 AM despite the morning breath and singing at the top of your lungs. It’s saying all the wrong things, at all the wrong moments. It’s sarcasm and being honest even when it hurts. It’s late hours of the night when it’s been a long day and it’s no make up and bad hair. It’s tears from laughter, it’s tears from sadness and it’s nothing like any storybook you’ve ever read. It’s never running out of things to talk about, and it’s being comfortable in the silence of things. True love is watching The Titanic though you swore you never would. It’s getting mad over stupid things. It’s “you’re an idiot,” and “you’re a little shit” and knowing you’re so lucky to hear those every day. It’s spilling your feelings at 4 AM when you should be asleep. It’s that song you hear on the radio that always makes you smile. It’s the worst story you could imagine, but thank God it worked out anyways. True love is never losing the magic. True love is not leaving when things get hard.

I like my definition better anyways.

"

- Another Piece About You  (via thefourthandfrattiest)

(Source: brennanat, via lostbutyoucanfollow)