Infiniteabsurdities is now stayradandbeblissful

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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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Product Placement
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todays bird
we're not kids anymore.
hello vonnie
I'd rather be in outer space šø
Peter Solarz
NASA
will byers stan first human second

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Sweet Seals For You, Always

izzy's playlists!
Keni
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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@infiniteabsurdities
Infiniteabsurdities is now stayradandbeblissful
Tumblr stupidity
Hello friends, As many of you know tumblr messed with everything and tried to make many of us change our passwords. Some of us (like me) can't access the old email accounts we created tumblr with. Tumblr is basically telling us there is nothing they can do (@staff if you can fix this it'd be great). Luckily I can still access my account via the tumblr app for iPhone, but I decided I'd start a new blog. I will re-follow everyone I follow on this account. I will try to leave this account active on my phone for as long as I can, but I don't know if it'll randomly log me out. Anyways my new blog is stayradandbeblissful.tumblr.com and I will be working to get it together over the next few days.
I imagine this happened frequentlyĀ
me: *forgets friends birthdays*
me: *confuses memories*
me: *forgets own middle name*
me, also: hey did you know that all pennies minted prior to 1982 are pure copper pennies and not copper plated and are technically actually worth 2 cents
man: has anyone ever told you youāre beautiful? me: oh no sir, today is my first day out of doors and papĆ forbade mirrors in the house lest we fall victim to vanity
Ok so Iām 22 now and I just got thrown back to 8th grade and remembered the most savage thing a teacher has ever done to me.. so keep in mind this was back in the day guys Iām pretty much a grandma we didnāt ever have phones in class like half the people didnāt even own a cell phone yet this was 2007, so itās like the first week of school and me and my bestie were passing notes, in the note we were talking about who we were crushing on in our class and our teacher fucking took the note, she just fuckin grabbed it and snatched it right out of my hand guys. I was SHOOK. Was she gonna read it? Was she gonna show the guys?? She didnāt say a word she just stormed off to her desk like some BAD shit just went down. We kept staring at her and she left it on her desk, she was hoarding it up there and everyone in the class had their eyes on it, they wanted to know what the note said and we couldnāt let that happen because boys in 8th GRADERS ARE MEAN. The class is dead silent and she had us all reading a book, so we were plotting how to retrieve the note. She KEPT GLARING AT US WITH A SMIRK IāLL NEVER FORGET, she was about to do something. We were waiting for her move. So itās still dead silent and then we hear the printer going!! What is she printing?! Well then she started passing out the papers and it said āget to know your partnerā at the top. Me and my Bff just looked at each other with our eyes wide as hell like she forgot about the note?? But no. She didnāt forget. She wrote the name of our partners in the top corners and guys She fucking paired us with our crushes. Iām not even kidding u. She made us go home and do homework on them. We had to guess their favorite movie and type of music, the next day came and we had to get with our partners and go over our answers and WHILE I WAS GUESSING HIS FAVORITE SPORTS TEAM SHE JUST DROPPED THE NOTE ON MY DESK. I slammed my hand onto it so hard he probably thought I was having a seizure or something. RIP me
That teacher was bro af for that
Number 12 Grimmauld Place is no longer hidden. It sits neatly between Number 11 and Number 13, its wrought iron polished and shiny, its windows clean of dust and grime. Muggles can see it, though they rarely give it more than a momentās glance; wizards and witches will occasionally approach cautiously to lay down a wreath of flowers, or a handwritten note addressed to The Boy Who Lives Still. Their wary respect is well-intentioned but unnecessary- Number 12 is second only to Hogwarts in the number of protective spells and wards place around it.
It is empty most of the year.
Fall winds blow and disturb no oneās slumber inside. In winter, snow gathers on the steps and railings; the windows remain dark and the curtains drawn. No flowers peek out from the windowsills to celebrate the arrival of spring.Ā
In the summer, they arrive.
From the outside, there is nothing to unite them. There are loud, boisterous teenagers and shy, quiet children no older than twelve; there are some dressed in the latest Muggle fashions and some whose jeans are patched and worn. They are of all races and ethnicities, all shapes and sizes, from all parts of the British Isles; they can be heard chattering in accents that clash and meld and somehow become harmonious. From the outside, they have nothing in common. But since when has someoneās outside reflected who they really are?
Molly Weasley was the first person Harry told about his idea. She and Arthur help him expand Number 12ā²s interior, adding bathrooms and reading nooks and bedrooms. Ginny chooses the squashiest armchairs and sturdiest furniture, tracking down bargains with a fierce glint in her eyes. When he realizes he needs an outdoor space, Hermione helps him to link his back door to an empty field. Ron helps Bill put up Quidditch hoops while Neville transplants trees and Hannah stations benches beneath their shady branches. Parvati paints the rooms in swirls of bright colors- green and red and blue and yellow mingle on the walls.Ā
In the summer, Number 12 Grimmauld Place becomes a refuge for lost children. They are the ones with no home to go to when the term ends, the ones who donāt have someone waiting to pick them up when the Hogwarts Express pulls into Platform 9 ¾. They are the ones whose homes are not safe, who grow anxious as June approaches and spring turns to summer. They are the ones who are no longer welcomed by those who share their blood, who have had to make family out of friends.
Harry Potter greets these students at Kings Cross and he takes them in.
In the summer, former DA members stream in and out of Number 12ā²s brightly polished door. Luna brings suitcases packed with odd creatures sheās discovered on her travels; the students sit in the sunny field as she pulls them out one by one and tells of hiking up mountains and wading through marshes. Ginny gives flying lessons and organizes Quidditch matches; the Harpies donate their old brooms when they switch sponsors (something that happens far more often than any other team in the league). There is a greenhouse where students with a green thumb can tend their own plots and assist Neville with his herbology experiments. Justin and Hermione drill them on Muggle subjects; Justin teaches algebra, geometry, and basic sciences while Hermione covers history and literature. George always spends a memorable week showing off his newest inventions while Ron drops by almost every evening to play chess. Students entering their fifth year can spend the summer shadowing people in careers that pique their interest; the Trio rarely use their fame for their own gain, but they wield it with fierce determination in the service of others.Ā
In the summer, these children are fed by Molly Weasley, hugged by Hannah Abbott, told bedtime stories by Luna Lovegood. They can spend all day reading under a tree or playing Exploding Snap in the kitchen or arguing about how best to make a phone work at Hogwarts. They can wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and make their way down to the kitchen, where Harry will meet them with a mug of hot tea and a listening ear. They can stay in bed on days when the world is too cruel and lonely, when the emptiness in their body is too heavy to bear. They can see others who struggle with it too and realize that family is not limited by blood, that being lonely doesnāt always mean being alone.
In the summer, Number 12 Grimmauld Place opens its doors wide and vibrates with life. It becomes a place where Sirius Black would be welcomed along with Severus Snape, where Harry Potter and Tom Riddle could spend their summers side by side.
In the summer, Number 12 Grimmauld Place becomes a home.
Source
After many months of being squashed by the stresses of my last year of graduate school, my muse has come roaring back with a vengeance. No promises on when the next update will be, but I hope you enjoy this piece
This is my favourite HP headcanon in the history of ever.
Iām crying. Thank you for this. Itās so beautiful.
This is what I want to read.
One of my favorite things about history is how little bits of it are preserved through traditions and mythology and we donāt even notice it. Like how we still sayĀ āāTis the seasonā at Christmastime. Who saysĀ ātis anymore? No one, itās dead except in this tiny phrase. I had a friend once tell me that she noticed the only group of people who could consistently identify a spinning wheel were girls between the ages of 4 and 7. Why? Sleeping Beauty. There are little linguistic quirks that have been around for centuries, bits of slang we use that people 400 years ago would recognize, but unless you showed someone a 400 year old dictionary, theyād never believe it. Whispers of the past are always there.
well someoneās asking the real questions
āWeāre kind of pretty much similar in the gym, but outside of the gym, Iām passed out sleeping, and sheās eating candy and jumping up and down on the bedsāĀ