Lillian Schneider (via neuvical)
harry styles: hi
me: about time u showed up, squirt
Harry styles: this is a meet and gr-
me: *slips on boxing gloves* you ready to dance pretty boy
when a non muslim arab or desi gets called a terrorist and they say smt along the lines of “but im not muslim”….ok…,.noted
dont you dare talk shit about louis tomlinson he doesnt owe you anything i will drop kick your sorry ass into the next millenium
foreign languages are all fun and games UNTIL IT COMES TO IRREGULARS AND CONJUGATION
things tumblr needs to stop doing
- making minor useless changes
things tumblr needs to start doing
- releasing urls that have been terminated for 2+ years
- add a “disable reblogging” option for posts
- make blocking people make it so they can’t view your blog and set it up so i can make it when someone who i have blocked goes to my blog it redirects to a black page with white text in the middle that says “go fuck yourself” with a picture of shadow the hedgehog flipping them off
ok so i think i finally found a category where tumblr is better than pinterest and that’s food
on pinterest if you search recipes they’re like “try a skinny mom pop! put 3 strawberries on a stick and add a little drizzle of white chocolate! way tasty and way healthier than most dessert options out there!”
tumblr food tag is like “put 15 snickers bars in a bigger fucking snickers bar you beautiful disaster”
When does shaming Muslim women for simply being females end? I’m sick and tired of these so called “men” going around and calling us fitnas, as if they have no responsibilities themselves. I’ll keep my modesty as far as I can on my part, and you do the same for yourself. Don’t worry about an entire group that you don’t even belong to, especially when you can’t imagine even a part of the struggle that comes with hijab.
the worst way for friendships to end is for literally nothing to go wrong, you just stop talking. they stop messaging you to see how youre doing and you get sick of being the first one to initiate conversation so you just let the friendship go and wonder how that person is doing and never hear from them again
Speak of the devil....and he shall appear.
"Depression is such a cruel punishment. There are no fevers, no rashes, no blood tests to send people scurrying in concern. Just the slow erosion of the self, as insidious as any cancer. And, like cancer, it is essentially a solitary experience. A room in hell with only your name on the door."
When I hear the screams of the crowd, I think it’s because I must look stunning. Then I notice something is rising up around me. Smoke. From fire. Not the flickery stuff I wore last year in the chariot, but something much more real that devours my dress. I begin to panic as the smoke thickens. Charred bits of black silk swirl in the air, and pearls clatter to the stage. Somehow I’m not afraid to stop because my flesh doesn’t seem to be burning and I know Cinna must be behind whatever is happening. So I keep spinning and spinning. For a split second I’m gasping, completely engulfed in the strange flames. Then all at once, the fire is gone. I slowly come to a stop, wondering if I’m naked and why Cinna has arranged to burn away my wedding dress. But I’m not naked. I’m in a dress of the exact same design of my wedding dress, only it’s the color of coal and made of tiny feathers. Wonderingly, I lift my long, flowing sleeves into the air, and that’s when I see myself on the television screen. Clothed in black except for the white patches on my sleeves. Or should I say my wings. Because Cinna has turned me into a mockingjay.