brown eyes are cute @loveydoveysuggestion - Tumblr Blog

Shelley Duvall, The Shining (1980)

I'm sorry I just simply don't vibe with this work-driven capitalist society all I want is to live in a cottage, receive neck kisses and be the little spoon

sickshadesbrokenblades

Darling, I am

I am just yearning here

garlicdad

I want a soft kind of love. A best friends kind of love. A "good morning baby, I'll make coffee and meet you in the shower" kind of love. I want lazy Sundays spent in bed and groggy Mondays getting ready for work side by side. I want the kind of love that makes you question if you ever felt love before. I want slow and steady and I want jumping headfirst into anything as long as we're together. The kind of love that feels like home and like a great adventure. I want that love.

devotionsuggestion

i love just looking at you. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing. sleeping, driving, eating, laughing… anything. you’re just so absolutely stunning.

anetherealsunrise

more playlist concepts!

Contemplating your existence; or lack thereof, and wondering if your meagre place in this world is enough to cause you this much angst. Marijuana is a great for this duo, so light up bitches

A mix of songs from the 60s, 70s and 80s that although I wasn’t alive for, makes me feel a lot more alive than most pop songs on the radio

“Dude are you going to this gig tonight? Actually don’t worry, I doubt you’ve heard of them. They are super underground, too indie for you.”

A study playlist for when I have the motivation (pretty much never)

You’re in the car with all your best friends, windows down, hands reaching out trying to touch the sun, you’ve never felt more free. These are the moments you live for, the moments where you feel truly infinite in the summer breeze

It’s a late Sunday morning and you roll out of bed to make pancakes for yourself because it’s a self-care kinda day. The sun is breaking through the curtains and it feels warm on your skin. You have no obligations and no where to be.

It’s 3am and you’re staring at the ceiling thinking about them. Your walls look as if they are closing in on you but all you can do is let it happen.

Songs that every single white person will lose their shit to and proceed to scream the lyrics obnoxiously but no one will care because they’re all screaming them too

A concept playlist for my favourite novel of all time: A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara.

There is only one word for it: eargasm

It’s a Saturday night and you’ve bought yourself a cheap bottle of vodka just to lose it halfway through the night. The bass is about to burst through the speakers and you feel the bodies dancing against you, unable to escape the crowded room. You close your eyes and just move along to the beat

It’s a mellow afternoon and the sun is slowly disappearing behind the hills, creating an almost ethereal glow over your features. You sit back with a nice cup of tea and read your book, whilst a soft hum of music plays in the background

niqabisinparis

if my husband doesn’t cry when he sees me on our wedding day I will softly kick him in the shin until he sheds a tear

animatedtext

concept-playlist-horde

concept playlists my dudes

although your chest aches and you feel empty, you lay back on your bed knowing that this sadness will pass you by. the sun shines brightly through your window. your clothes are soft against your skin. you will be okay.

you march in a protest for something you believe in. your hands grip the sign you made last night and your throat burns from the chanting you’ve been doing. the night air is cool but you burn bright with resistance.

you lay back on the mossy ground of a forest clearing. life is too much. too hectic, too unkind. your eyes follow the path of the clouds in the sky as you peer through the trees, waiting for nature to take its course and swallow you.

you speed along an empty california highway. the desert stretches for miles in either direction on each side of the two-lane interstate and your car leaves dust in its wake. you’re going 85, top down, music blasting.

you’re a young witch who lives in a small house on the edge of the city. you’ve done nothing but help people with your abilities, but recently someone made you very angry. you dance around your space as you plot your revenge.

the sun is setting as you lay back on your roof. the last few rays of light wash over your body. the breeze is soft and cool. you close your eyes and bask in the warmth, knowing the last days of summer are passing you by.

it’s 1989 and you’re standing behind your high school. a cigarette dangles from your lips. you should be in fourth period, but class is boring and you aren’t. you don’t belong here.

you’ve just ended a long relationship. you feel light, airy, and free. you know you should feel guilt, but you’re ready to embark onto the next part of your life. life is bright and you’re happy.