Harry Really Tried To Blame Taylor For The Vehicular Manslaughter LIKE 1989 DOESNT EXIST WHY ARE YOU

via BBC Radio 1’s Instagram Stories.

to lovely humans who were excluded from invitations, left behind when they tied their shoes, forced to walk in the grass when the sidewalk was full, spoken over when you tried to contribute, whispered about or laughed at, given the side eye when you tried to fit in... you are so worthy of love and I’m sorry people have convinced you otherwise. I promise that your people are out there - people who will see the side of you others ignore, people who share weird inside jokes with you, give you affectionate nicknames and go to museums or roadtrips with you and fulfil whatever idea of friendship you’ve always fantasized about. even if you feel like an empty shell of your former self because you’ve hidden yourself away due to shame, this exterior will melt when you accept yourself or let people in and you’ll realize there was nothing wrong with you all along. you have interesting things to say, you deserve new chances and beginnings, your heart is probably made of gold because you know what it’s like to be left out in the cold, and you have so much to give. you are so worthy and someone’s idea of a friend too, and I hope you receive lots of hugs in the future from yourself and others because you’re so lovable.

Submission Sunday ayyy

childhood friends are like open wounds

here’s to everyone hitting a low point after doing really well. you’re amazing and so strong and your hard work is not erased. you will find happiness again

𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟖.𝟏𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

A/N: Hiya my angels ❣️ I’ve been on the fence if I should post this chapter or not. The lack of reader interaction, reblogs, and comments I’ve gotten on Bloodsport so far has made me want to stop posting the fic. It just feels like everyone who hyped up this fic for weeks, if not months, have suddenly disappeared or just don’t really care to rb or share their thoughts with me anymore, which is incredibly discouraging and has made me debate why I continue to share my writing on here. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate and see those who do reach out and who reblog! I love you so much it makes me want to cry! But I’ve talked to multiple writers after sharing my thoughts on lack of reader interaction earlier this week, and they all feel the exact same with their fics. Please please PLEASE send fic writers love! Please reblog! Please encourage writers to keep sharing on here! Or else there won’t be much fic to read on here anymore. Enjoy chapter 3, love you x

May, 2013

“Marcela,” Y/N groaned. “I don’t get it.”

“Are you even trying?” Marcela asked, looking up from her notebook perched in front of her on the dining table and over at her 15-year-old sister. “I swear, you never even bother trying.”

“I do try!” Y/N said. “But how am I supposed to try if I don’t even understand what’s being said?”

Okumaya devam et

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕.𝟕𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

Tuesday, 13 December 2017

Tooley Street was always busy, whether there were a horde of people walking to and from the riverside and underground, or cars driving by at a ridiculous speed. London Bridge station on the other side of the road to where Y/N and the gang sat at Caffé Nero, looked like a small insect in comparison to The Shard that reached like a pillar above the partly cloudy winter sky. The blue painted brick building beside it, The Shipwright Arms pub, was a lively addition to an otherwise very bleak street.

Okumaya devam et

Reblog this if you're not a larrie, and you do NOT believe Harry is a womaniser.