to recap:

  1. ana & elsa are rapunzel’s cousins
  2. it was to rapunzel & flynn’s wedding that ana & elsa’s parents were on their way to when they shipwrecked
  3. it was their shipwreck that ariel sees in the beginning of the little mermaid
  4. but they didn’t die, they washed up on an island and gave birth to tarzan, and were later killed by a cheetah

did i miss anything

(via dearprongs)

Source: anneboleyns


  • japan ≠ korea ≠ china
  • pakistan is not in the middle east
  • most muslims aren’t arabs
  • geishas are not prostitutes
  • mexico is a very small part of latin america
  • there are 54 countries in africa
  • china has 56 different ethnic groups and none of them eat chop suey
  • singapore is not part of china
  • most singaporeans speak english as their first language, please don’t ask, “why is your English so good”

(via annelikestodance)

Source: colonelhathi
Photo Set


A compilation of my favorite teacher/school related posts

(via aashikin)

Source: godbless-st-cyr



i can’t stop watching

his hair tho, as the hood flies off

(via iwillmindfuckyou)

Source: megustamemes
Photo Set


realest plot-twist ever.

(via ruinedchildhood)

Source: fyeahmovieclub



"What’s your favorite color?"

"Radical Carrot."


(via karpitol)

Source: octibbles
Photo Set

"After high school you realize you were only friends with some people because you saw them five times a week."

- (via rumour)

(via helpimalive)

Source: sensxal-bliss
Photo Set







(via ruinedchildhood)

Source: colincreeveyscamera
Photo Set




Vetches and passion flowers have modified some of their leaves and converted them into tendrils. These grope around in space until they touch the stem of another plant and swiftly coil around it. The tendrils then coil and pull the plant up towards the sunlight.

U need this on ur blog u do

This is scary

(via adsertoris)

Source: qdork



i can feel this in my stomach

My thoughts get lost in that sky

this makes me feel sick tbh




i can feel this in my stomach

My thoughts get lost in that sky

this makes me feel sick tbh

(via adsertoris)

Source: softwaring
Photo Set

"If you’re a woman and you don’t wear enough make-up, there’s about an 85% chance that the first person you see when you leave the house will ask if you’re tired or sick…
Conversely, if some dude’s inbuilt conceal-o-meter scans your eyeliner as a millimetre thicker than the Department of Warpaint’s cat eye regulations, you’re likely to be charged with five counts of Offences Against Natural Beauty…
Part of this phenomenon is that a lot of people, and almost all men, don’t understand how make-up works. Make-up was, and still is to a large extent, one of those private self-maintenance tasks ladies perform out of male view, because putting it on openly fucks with the illusion it’s supposed to create. Traditional make-up - and especially ‘no make-up make-up’ - is supposed to make your face look ‘naturally beautiful’…
Sponging on the foundation where dudes can see messes with men’s suspension of disbelief and can even cause anger, confusion or disgust. You tricked me!, he thinks. I thought you were a natural beauty! Now I see [it was] an illusion… “If I know she wears make-up,” muses the dude, “maybe she burps and farts as well. That’s not hot at all, and women are supposed to be hot…”
Wearing ‘too much’ make-up also renders the make-up itself visible, rather than contributing to the impression of a woman’s inbuilt, effortless fuckability. It’s often connected to unbecoming displays of overt sexuality: … ‘that heavy eye shadow makes you look like a whore’…
This does open up the enticing possibility of using make-up in rebellious ways, though - playing with colour and glitter or doing a hot pink lip can make you look fantastic and repel men who expect more subtlety in make-up practice. Or you could take a more direct approach, like writing IT’S NOT FOR YOU across your cheek in green shimmer eyeliner. You go girl."

- Eleanor Robertson, "All Made Up" for FRANKIE magazine. (via ollymurmaid)

(via dearprongs)

Source: ollymurmaid


one day in june,
my friend wrote me a list of things
i am good at.
she did not preface it with anything much,
only a simple
“here you go.”
the title of the document was
“your talents”,
and she had bullet pointed them in what seemed a very
and thoughtful way
and it reminded me of
hermione granger,
a woman caught between the pages of seven
that we had both
at some point
striven to emulate

on what i think is around about the same day
a year later,
it became very clear to me,
that the only one in need of such a list was
the same person who had created it.

i found it curious
that such a person could have such capacity to love
but not

and one day i caught her arm
and i looked at it
and she looked at me
looking at it
and then
she started to cry.
and i am not sure what hurt more
whether it was the feeling of the tears soaking
into my shirt
or the thin, wavering lines of red
on her arms,
ones that she had arranged in what seemed a very
and thoughtful way
and the colour reminded me
of ronald weasley,
who was a character i must admit
to disliking at first
but becoming fond of
and one i know she
had always loved.

my friend is very pale and very slight,
and she is very beautiful
in a way that everyone but her seems to notice.
sometimes i look at her and i wonder at how someone so stiflingly
can have more faith in an paper and ink boy with a lightning bolt scar
than in herself.
but then,
i suppose,
these things have always been very strange to me.
my friend listed my talents
when i did not need them listed.

but i fooled myself into thinking
i did,
and she acted upon
what she saw.
i wonder now,
what i could and would
have done.

and i wonder if my friend
still hurts so much
that she feels she needs to
cut the feeling
out of herself.

and i will not ever write her a bullet-point list,
because it will be too long.
instead i have written her
just over six hundred words of whispered nothings
and fervent wishes that they would make the wispy lines of red on her arms
go away
that i will never show her
but she will find anyway.

but i will read her favourite books
if i must.
i will not tease her for the way the pages of her copies are slightly
because she reads them in the bath.
i will remember that the characters’ middle names are james and jean and bilius,
and i will not ever call harry potter
mostly because he is not
and also because i see him in her every day.

i will love slytherins and i will love gryffindors and
heaven forbid i should leave out hufflepuffs or ignore
i will watch every film at least
seven times
i will appreciate severus snape
and i will listen to every anecdote that she ever relates to me on the topic
even if i have heard it before.
if those seven books about a boy who lived in a cupboard under the stairs
is the only story that ever stays in my head
then i am glad that my friend picked a story
that is worthwhile.

and i hope that even ten years after i write this
she will still love the paper and ink boy with
the lightning bolt scar
but she will love herself
just as much


Source: agernt