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doki doki
Hi there my name is Rachel and my weeb name is kiza it's left over from my neopets days which I have relapsed into so yeah call me whichever. If you want to know how I tag things please check out by about page! my ask box is always open, so please, feel free to send me a message any time.

stfump:

rose-coloured-rain:

trick-or-pete:

carcrashteainthestars:

trick-or-pete:

All the boys who the dance floor didn’t love

And all the girls who’s lips couldn’t move fast enough

Sing

Until your lungs give out

this aih a sehn its ah gah dah arh rehs

Posted on Oct 22— 6 hours ago

chocolatequeennk:

haliasjane:

inbetweenfictionandreality:

"I waited too long to read the sequel, and now I can’t even remember the characters."

 A novel by me

"I read the whole series in less than two days, and now can’t separate the events of individual books" the thrilling sequel

"I’ve read so much fanfic for this series, I can’t remember what really happened in the books" the stunning conclusion

Posted on Oct 21— 9 hours ago

djuvre:

spoopy-banana:

memewhore:

banans13:

kissthesecurves:

starvingfartist:

I don’t usually comment on posts but FUN RANDOM DISNEY FACT : before Scar got his Scar (which was given to him by a wildebeest after an incident involving Mufasa) his name was Taka. He requested to be called Scar after this incident because he is a very over-dramatic lion as we already know! The source for this fact is from the Lion King novel series. 

Damn you learn something everyday.

EXCUSE ME THERE IS A LION KING NOVEL SERIES EXCUSE ME EXCUSE MEEEE

Another fun fact: I just looked it up and in Swahili, taka means garbage.

So their parents named them literally “King” and “Garbage” omfg that’s so awful xD

that’s so MEAN NO WONDER GARBAGE WANTED TO KILL HIS FAMILY

Posted on Oct 21— 11 hours ago

wheresagnes:

aztec-princesss:

gohomeluhan:

As I’m walking through Target with my little sister, the kid somehow manages to convince me to take a trip down the doll aisle. I know the type - brands that preach diversity through displays of nine different variations of white and maybe a black girl if you’re lucky enough. What I instead found as soon as I turned into the aisle were these two boxes.

The girl on the left is Shola, an Afghani girl from Kabul with war-torn eyes. Her biography on the inside flap tells us that “her country has been at war since before she was born”, and all she has left of her family is her older sister. They’re part of a circus, the one source of light in their lives, and they read the Qur’an. She wears a hijab.

The girl on the right is Nahji, a ten-year-old Indian girl from Assam, where “young girls are forced to work and get married at a very early age”. Nahji is smart, admirable, extremely studious. She teaches her fellow girls to believe in themselves. In the left side of her nose, as tradition mandates, she has a piercing. On her right hand is a henna tattoo.

As a Pakistani girl growing up in post-9/11 America, this is so important to me. The closest thing we had to these back in my day were “customizable” American Girl dolls, who were very strictly white or black. My eyes are green, my hair was black, and my skin is brown, and I couldn’t find my reflection in any of those girls. Yet I settled, just like I settled for the terrorist jokes boys would throw at me, like I settled for the butchered pronunciations of names of mine and my friends’ countries. I settled for a white doll, who at least had my eyes if nothing else, and I named her Rabeea and loved her. But I still couldn’t completely connect to her.

My little sister, who had been the one to push me down the aisle in the first place, stopped to stare with me at the girls. And then the words, “Maybe they can be my American Girls,” slipped out of her mouth. This young girl, barely represented in today’s society, finally found a doll that looks like her, that wears the weird headscarf that her grandma does and still manages to look beautiful.

I turned the dolls’ boxes around and snapped a picture of the back of Nahji’s. There are more that I didn’t see in the store; a Belarusian, an Ethiopian, a Brazilian, a Laotian, a Native American, a Mexican. And more.

These are Hearts 4 Hearts dolls, and while they haven’t yet reached all parts of the world (I think they have yet to come out with an East Asian girl), they need all the support they can get so we can have a beautiful doll for every beautiful young girl, so we can give them what our generation never had.

Please don’t let this die. If you know a young girl, get her one. I know I’m buying Shola and Nahji for my little sister’s next birthday, because she needs a doll with beautiful brown skin like hers, a doll who wears a hijab like our older sister, a doll who wears real henna, not the blue shit white girls get at the beach.

The Hearts 4 Hearts girls are so important. Don’t overlook them. Don’t underestimate them. These can be the future if we let them.

You can read more about the dolls here: http://www.playmatestoys.com/brands/hearts-for-hearts-girls

*runs to target- i need to get my babydoll one for her 1st bday

ohmygosh and the one from Ethiopia has natural hair which you can’t get from the American Girl “just like you” dolls!

Posted on Oct 21— 12 hours ago

phemiec:

I’m so impressed by girls who can put together a really cute outfit and do their hair and makeup really nice every single day like if I manage to shower and eat breakfast it’s a damn victory

Posted on Oct 21— 14 hours ago

michellehiraishi:

Harry Potter inktobers!

Posted on Oct 21— 16 hours ago
filed under→ ·hp ·adorbs

basedbridget:

A moment of silence for the old beloved PJO chapter names

Posted on Oct 21— 17 hours ago
filed under→ ·pjo

simplypotterheads:

HARRY POTTER + SCARS

UM YOU FORGOT ABOUT DUMBLEDORE

Posted on Oct 21— 19 hours ago
filed under→ ·hp ·geez ·cant do anything right

oddbagel:

jaxtellerhelps:

tuckedshirts:

pretendersrpa:

slippingintoacomabored:

traumacomplex:

no but imagine the tally marks turning black if their love is requited.

and then imagine the tally marks becoming a scar when the one they love dies.

Imagine someone with no tally marks meeting someone with 50 tally marks

Imagine someone with no tally marks starting to like someone with all tally marks scarred 

imagine aromantics with no tally marks laughing at this tally mark bullshit system

imagine someone afraid of being in love suddenly getting a tally mark

imagine someone married with a single nice black tally mark has a new one just appear

imagine someone with a single scarred mark that refuses to love again gets a new mark and it’s black

imagine someone who falls in love too easily having a lot of marks

imagine nurses at old people homes taking care of people with scarred marks, black marks, and no marks

Imagine a dolphin with human legs. Like a normal fucking dolphin except it gets up and walks around on human legs. Wouldn’t that be fucking nuts. Just my contribution to this post.

Posted on Oct 21— 1 day ago
filed under→ ·that last one tho omfg

scoutprouvaire:

amazonpoodle:

what if the reason nobody can tell fred and george apart is because they really are interchangeable

not in a ~it doesn’t matter~ way but like. molly and arthur used to worry that fred and george might turn out to be squibs because they weren’t doing any accidental magic as children, but they were, THEY TOTALLY WERE, it just wasn’t anything flashy, instead they were just like idly switching bodies all the time

and like sometimes it doesn’t make much of a difference, whatever, wake up in the opposite bed you went to sleep in, but it gets like dangerous and weird if you’re on a broom or in the pond or letting your mum teach you to cook or trying to be mad stealth, so for a long long time everybody presumes they’re clumsy maybe-squibs and that they’re doing their twin lying thing when they try to explain what’s going on, so they learn to handle the issue their ownselves

they just. don’t go anywhere without the other. they start each day deciding which body is going to be which (because at this point they really don’t know which body is technically fred and which is technically george), and they learn to reorient FAST when they switch, and what things set them off, and eventually they learn how to act like nothing’s up even when one of them’s in the air and one’s on the ground or whatever, and then they burn past that til they can finish each other’s sentences — til they can switch midsentence — til they can play beater together — til they can switch in a split second in the middle of a game — til there’s room for other kinds of accidental magic to start showing up

at hogwarts they keep each other awake in history of magic by switching back and forth. in potions they take turns brewing and keeping lookout for the slytherins. in transfiguration and charms they keep their grades up because one of them will always get a spell right on the first try so they switch and make it look like both of them do and then they practice on their own later in private. it keeps the mystery alive.

at first they thought lee was just a lucky guesser but no, lee can always tell one twin from another twin — it’s not exactly telling fred from george, because while they are definitely two distinct personalities neither one of them feels like fred all the time or george all the time — but lee knows who he argued with yesterday or who he lent his notes to or who’s best to ask for help in astronomy and who’s best at runes. 

the weasleys are pretty bad at it for the longest time, but then bill comes home from his first year cursebreaking and he can tell, and over a holiday he teaches his trick to charlie so charlie can tell. alicia and katie and angelina can tell. the twins honestly don’t know if oliver can tell or not; so long as they’re doing what they’re supposed to on the quidditch pitch he doesn’t really care about much else. harry can tell. luna can tell. tonks can tell.

the problem is there’s no way for this to end happily

YES THERE IS

THERE IS INDEED A WAY FOR THIS TO END HAPPILY LISTEN UP

so after fred dies, george hates being trapped in one body, feels claustrophobic, misses fred so much he thinks it might drive him insane

but then one day

george blinks and he’s somewhere he wasn’t a second ago, he’s in a place full of white light and he can’t orient himself, can’t ground himself, feels dizzy and sick and overwhelmed but it only lasts for about thirty seconds.

then he’s back in his own body. 

and he looks down at his chest, his legs, his arms, there’s an ear missing so it’s definitely still his living body, but there’s something written on his arm, scrawled in messy quill ink. 

"i love you. i miss you."

george flips out, washes off the ink and immediately writes a message in reply— “how’s death going?”

he walks around with that message written on his arm for weeks, always keeping a quill pen somewhere nearby, waiting, waiting, before it finally happens again. the switch. george is alive, so he can’t handle being in the afterlife, he feels dizzy and sick and it’s the worst feeling in the world, but it doesn’t last long, and when he gets back to his living body, there’s a long message from fred waiting on his right thigh, the ink still drying.

this goes on for years, never as often as either twin would like, but it’s enough. fred helps george figure out how to propose to angelina, fred helps plan the wedding. sometimes it’s fred in george’s body when angelina kisses her husband. sometimes she suspects, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest.

it gets easier as george gets older. the times when he switches into fred’s afterlife don’t hurt as much. he almost feels comfortable there, almost feels oriented. he knows he’s getting closer to dying.

then when george is past ninety, lying on his deathbed, he writes a careful message on his palm. “i’m coming soon. where are you?”

they switch, it lasts for almost five minutes this time, and when george gets back into his own body, he sees the instructions fred wrote over his heart.

"you’ll wake up in king’s cross station. take the second train and get off at the third stop. i’ll be waiting."

Posted on Oct 21— 1 day ago