âĄ

izzy's playlists!
sheepfilms
cherry valley forever
Three Goblin Art
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
Stranger Things

pixel skylines

JVL

#extradirty
Claire Keane
Aqua Utopiaď˝ćľˇăŽĺşă§č¨ćśăç´Ąă
Not today Justin
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Andulka

ellievsbear

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
will byers stan first human second

tannertan36
i don't do bad sauce passes
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@carvingstuff
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Santa is on strike due to global warming. Â All presents this year will be delivered by Sasha the Christmas Tiger. Â Milk and cookies may not be sufficient.
âMUST BRING PRESENTS TO GOOD CHILDRENâ
âYes goodâ
âAND EAT THE BAD ONESâ
âWait noâ
âEAT THEMâ
âsasha noâ
@burstofhope the Christmas tiger is watching
She is making a list
It is not easy with her paws but she is making it
shes almost here
Okay fine this is the ONE Christmas thing I will reblog before Thanksgiving BUT THATâS IT
SASHAâS BACK ON MY DASH!
Yâall better behave, you have two months
You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
What would you do with 1.6 billion dollars?
A good percentage of my friends are Nazis.
That percentage is zero. Thatâs a good percentage of Nazi friends to have.
op change your url this is fucking fantastic

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do you ever get into one of those moods where your heart aches and longs for something so deeply but you dont know what and your heart is like a stubborn toddler screaming i want it !!!! please give it to me !!!! And youâre desperately like i donât know what kind of emotionally fulfilling experience to give you at 3 PM on a Wednesday !!!!!!!!!
My sociology professor had a really good metaphor for privilege today. She didnât talk about race or gender or orientation or class, she talked about being left-handed.
A left-handed person walks into most classrooms and immediately is made aware of their left-handedness - they have to sit in a left-handed seat, which restricts their choices of where to sit. If there are not enough left-handed seats, they will have to sit in a right-handed seat and be continuously aware of their left-handedness. (There are other examples like left-handed scissors or baseball mitts as well.)
Meanwhile, right-handed people have much more choice about where to sit, and almost never have to think about their right-handedness.
Does this mean right-handed people are bad? No.
Does it mean that we should replace all right-handed desks with left-handed desks? No.
But could we maybe use different desk styles that can accommodate everyone and makes it so nobody has limited options or constant awareness that they are different? Yes.
Now think of this as a metaphor. For social class. For race. For ethnicity. For gender. For orientation. For anything else that sets us apart.
WHY DOESNâT THIS HAVE MORE NOTES?
Because I posted it about 90 seconds ago, calm down.
Take my love, take my land, Take me where I cannot stand. I donât care, Iâm still free, You canât take the sky from me.
The Black Footed cat is the smallest wild cat in Africa and one of the smallest wild cats in the world.
Hereâs an adult kitty for size comparison:
too smoll
OK but you canât mention my all-time favorite cat without also mentioning that these little motherfuckers are legendary for being 1000% ready to throw down with anyone at any time, theyâve literally been seen trying to fight a giraffe and are known to successfully bring down sheep by getting underneath them and ripping their bellies open like what the fuck, chill
Their name in Afrikaans means âanthill tigerâ because theyâll hide inside a hollowed out anthill and then jump out and try to rip your face off
They are perfect and I love them
Aw, look at these little murder muffins.
HE THOUGHT HIS LIL FRIEND GOT BAKED INTO A COOKIE I AM 100% DONE AWHH

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HE THOUGHT HIS LIL FRIEND GOT BAKED INTO A COOKIE I AM 100% DONE AWHH
I meant to type cat smirk in google images but it came out as cat smork
Smork smork
tbh the most unrealistic thing in harry potter is when mrs weasley in the first book asks ânow whatâs the platform number?â
like this woman has been going to that school for seven years and then dropped kids off on the same place for nearly ten like why on earth would she forget the platform number
I still have the headcanon that Molly BAMF Weasley saw a scrawny underfed child with an owl who had no idea where he was going and looked lost and confused and was like, âAh, yep, new son.â but didnât want to scare him by outright approaching and asking if he needed help so she was just like, âMUGGLES, MUGGLES EVERYWHERE! DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THE PLATFORM NUMBER TO WIZARD SCHOOL IS? WHATâS THAT? NINE AND THREE QUARTERS? OH, YES, THATâS RIGHT. THE PLATFORM NUMBER IS   N I N E  A N D  T H R E E   Q U A R T E R S!â
Of course seeing as how Harry isnât the most observant bloke, she probably ushered her kids past him fifty times as different ones screamed the platform number until they finally got his attention.
With that being said, and Iâm extremely sorry for taking over your post:
11:45:
They had just enough time to make it onto the platform, get their trunks loaded, and say their goodbyes. Molly ushered them all along, wishing that she could just Apparate them all onto the train and be done with it. There was too much to do, too much to say, too mâ
All at once, she screeched to a halt. Percy crashed into her, causing the twins to snicker.
A tiny boy was being crossly turned away by a security guard. A boy whose ribs poked through his baggy shirt, whose glasses were broken, whose jaw was trembling as he tried to find his way. Well, surely she could be the person to guide him there? And did he� Yes! He had an owl! He was one of them!
The poor child; he looked so lost.
Where were his parents?
Never mind, never mind. She would see to it that he would get on the train. But she had to be careful. She couldnât startle him. Heâd run off and that would be the end of it. No, no, they had to be crafty.
11:47 AM:
âPacked with Muggles of course,â Molly said loudly, ushering her very confused children past the boy. âWhatâs the platform number again?â
âNine and three quarters,â Percy said. âMother, how could you have forgâ?â
It was George who nudged him as he understood what she was doing. She had done it before, after all, and she would do it again.
Unfortunately, it didnât work.
The boy didnât seem to notice them.
11:48 AM:
âPacked with Muggles of course,â said Molly again, marching her children past once more. âWhatâs the platform number?â
âNine and three quarters,â Fred and George screamed in unison.
And still the boy remained lost.
11:49 AM:
âMum,â Ron panted, tripping over himself as he ran to keep up with her. âSlow down!â
Molly ignored him as she practically flew past the poor boy. âPacked with Muggles of course! Now, whatâs the platform number?â
âNine and three quarters,â Ron bellowed.
11:50 AM:
Molly honestly didnât care if her entire family missed the train and she had to set off across the UK herself like a mother leading a flock of ducklings: she was going to help this boy onto the bloody train.
She marched past him with a fiery determination and said, âPacked with Muggles of course!â
The boy looked up.
Yes! Okay, this was it, this was it, this was it. Play it cool. He was following them. Listening. Pretending not to.
They stopped.
âNow,â Molly said. âWhatâs the platform number?â
âNine and three quarters,â piped Ginny.
Victory!
The next nine minutes were a whirlwind of chaos but they managed to get the boy through the barrier. At Mollyâs insistence, Fred and George popped up and helped him get his trunk into the compartment. She handed Ron an extra sandwich and muttered, âTell him that everywhere else was full.â
He dutifully nodded.
As the train took off, she waved to her children, including her newest one.
Bristling with pride, she began to head back to the Burrow. There was simply no time to waste. She had a jumper to knit.
If I ever donât reblog this post - assume Iâm dead
HE THOUGHT HIS LIL FRIEND GOT BAKED INTO A COOKIE I AM 100% DONE AWHH

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Keep the flame going for those we have lost to suicide.Â