sometimes i wonder what it's like to be mentally stable. anyway *resets the universe* this time it's gonna work out for sure
Keni
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@peanutisnice
sometimes i wonder what it's like to be mentally stable. anyway *resets the universe* this time it's gonna work out for sure
WHY TF DID THEY REPLACE THE SWORDS WITH GUNS IN THE LIVE ACTION
pocky day without a pocky game...
Early scenarios joongdok dynamic đ„đ„đ„
been using twitter for forever that itâs weird to be on tumblr
how to not treat tumblr as twitter; not a thread
being in your early 20s is crazy bc thereâs people who are literally married and people whoâve never even dated and people who are trapped in their childhood bedrooms waiting to get out and people who are trying to live out romanticized dream lives and people who are completely on their own and people with multi tiered support systems and weâre all supposedly peers and none of us think weâre doing it right at all
Controversial opinion: People who have never watched an episode of Supernatural have had more fun watching the drama from that fandom than Supernatural fans did in the entire 15 year run of the show.
this is true, and this is me rn
đđȘđŹđŠ đ°đł đłđŠđŁđđ°đš đȘđ§ đ¶ đŽđąđ·đŠ. đ„đ°đŻ'đ” đłđŠđ±đ°đŽđ”! âĄÌ
(ïŸâăźâ)ïŸ*:ïŸâ§
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Do non-americans realize that the United States is literally just a bunch of countries in a trench coat that agreed to be semi-nice to each other in order to sneak into the Big Boy Club? Because letâs be honest thatâs just what the USA is
The rest of the world: So⊠youâre a big country?
The states, standing on each otherâs shoulders: Y- yes,,,
I love how everyone whoâs reblogged this hasnât added anything on or tagged anything on it. Theyâre all just like âYeah. Thatâs it. Thatâs the entire United States summed up in one post-â
#oh my god is THAT why you guys are so weird
Yeah 100%
Donât let these tags die omfg
10/10 can confirm
absolutely bonkers that my own tags have crossed my dash like this more than fifteen reblogs after i wrote them
I moved to another state. 30 minutes away. My family acts like I betrayed them and canât understand my life choices. Itâs completely different way of life, especially during covid. Completely different country.
every single fucking time one of those articles of âthings europeans find weird about americaâ complains that sales tax isnât included
states set the sales tax!!! itâs literally different across state lines!!! american retailers canât add it bc theyâd have to account for 50 different prices!!!!!!!
It gets even more insane! Californiaâs clean air standards for cars and other such things are so much higher than everyone elseâs! So if a car manufacturer in Detroit wants to sell their damn cars in California, they need to build their cars to California clean air standards. But retooling an assembly line and car design to have some cars meet California clean air standards, while building others to other clean air standards is a lot of work, so car manufacturers all over the country have to build all their cars to California clean air standards.
Which is why California went into an uproar earlier this year when the Federal Government tried to argue that states canât set their own environmental guidelines! âFuck you!â says California, âwe remember Los Angeles in the 80s, how bad the smog gets, go pollute your own damn air over in your own damn state where there isnât a thermal inversion layer to trap all the smog down near ground level!â
âBut youâre making it soooo haaaaaard to sell our cars everywhere else!â they whine.
âFuck you!â California shouts. âAnd while weâre at it, we donât give a shit what you say, Mister President, weâre gonna open our damn states when weâre good and ready, and our friends Nevada, Oregon, Colorado, and Washington State agree! Also, weâve decided to legalize weed!â
âBut the Federal Government says itâs illegal!â shouts the other states.
âFuck you, we make the drug laws in our state, and we say toke up!â
âNow, hang on!â shouts the Federal government. âYou can legalize weed in your state, but all banks are federal agencies, so if your weed dispensaries set up bank accounts, those accounts have money from illegal practices in it and are subject to seizure by the federal government!â
âFINE!â shouts California. âHey, weed guys, you can keep selling weed, but you can only deal in cash!â
âHow the fuck is that supposed to work!?â
âI DONâT FUCKING KNOW, TAKE IT UP WITH DC!â
âBy the way, if youâre gay married elsewhere, we wonât recognize it,â mutters Texas.
âOH FUCK YOUUUUUUU!âÂ
And so it goes and so it goesâŠ
The west coast gets along alright and we all have similar ideas about things, but are proud of our own states individually. NorCal and SoCal are held together by spit and glue and thatâs how we like it.
Honestly I disagree with the â50 countries at leastâ statement because the way it would really go down is like
Florida has to be alone because no one else would claim it. Hawaii would be included in the California, nevada, Oregon, Washington country. Iâm not going to speak for Alaska they can do whatever they want bc theyâre all insane up there.
UmmmâŠHawaii most certainly would not lol. A lot of people in the islands view it as an US vs The Mainland sort of thing. Hawaii doesnt even feel like part of the US. Except for Las Vegas tho. Las Vegas is the 9th island.
Also I feel like most people forget how large Alaska really is. Here it is superimposed over the states:
And here it is superimposed partly over Western Europe:
Ah, and I just discovered this, but itâs about half the size of India as well?Â
Pff, state-set sales taxes is for beginners. The sales tax in my town is different from the sales tax the next county over.
And Alaska is physically big, but the entire state has a population less than San Francisco, a particularly small urban city.
Hi that map is wrong because I grew up in New England and everyone hates Mass, and now I live in Virginia and we barely tolerate the other half of our own state, let alone West ViginiaÂ
Yeah you canât be lumping Georgia and Alabama together like that, thereâll be bloodshed
Itâs about the handsÂ
đâđŒ
my friend: [needs comfort]
me: oh Dang what are the Comfort Words
me: *flipping through the manual* there there?
my friend: *cries harder*
me: oh No they were the wrong Comfort Words
Here you go, all the Comfort Words
Don't you think it's really lucky that all the Marauders' Animagus forms just happened to be great for helping Remus? Imagine if James turned into a monkey or a dolphin or a beaver or something. Three years for nothing.
I have though about this extensively. EXTENSIVELY. I have wondered if animagi can only turn into animals that they are familiar with, or are animals native to the regions where they live. Imagine living in the UK and turning into a hippo or something. How could that ever be helpful?
For people who are wondering, this is a way that Remus Lupinâs life couldâve been EVEN SHITTIER than it was.
âI canât believe you guys did this for me! You couldâve mentioned it!â
âNah Moony, we wanted it to be a surprise,â Sirius said with a smile.
âYeah, we can be mysterious too,â James grinned.
âI canât wait to see what we transform into,â Peter chimed in excitedly.
Remus stood in anticipation as he watched his friends begin to work the complex animagus transformation. His eyes wide, his mouth open, he soon found himself standing in a room with a somewhat agitated elephant, a snapping lobster, and a really f*cking pissed off shark.
âWellâŠ.shit,â Remus muttered.
And thus was born Moony, Stampy, Pinchy, and Jaws.Â
You somehow find out the exact date and time of your death in advance. You know that nothing else is going to kill you until your time comes, and so you go all out.
June 11, 2018. 3:33 p.m.
You stare at the words written on the small slip of paper the oracle gave you. Is she a quack? No- she predicted a whole lot of other things right, things youâve never told anyone, like the name of the girl youâre in love with and the fact that you know youâre adopted but your parents never officially told you. Sheâs real. Itâs all legit.
So youâre going to die on June 11, in less than six months, at 3:33 pm.
How?
Why me?
You spend a few days in a state of panic. Thereâs so much you havenât done yet, youâre only twenty-three, youâve just barely graduated college and you still have tons of things you want to do with your life.
And yet youâre sitting on the floor of your small apartment, eating piping hot ramen noodles out of a red plastic cup.
Thatâs when it hits you- that you canât sit around moping and dreading June 11th until it comes.
If youâre going to go out, you go out in style.
Itâs March 13, 2018 and you make a list. There are 89 days until you die, if you donât count today or June 11th; there are 50 things on your bucket list. With plenty of time and all the money in your savings account at the ready, you throw your blanket off and stand up, hands on your hips.
Watch out, world, here I come.
The next day you start the search for your adoptive parents, #1 on the list. This one will take the longest so itâs best to start out with it. After sending off a few emails, you look to #2- ask Her out. The two of you met in college. Sheâs single, and you know this because you totally donât check Her Facebook page every few days to see Her relationship status. This time, when you log onto Facebook, you do something more. You message Her.
Hey! Remember me?
She responds back a few minutes later.
Yeah! Of course. We had so much fun in psych. Whatâs up? :)
A smiley face, thatâs a good sign. You take a deep breath and tap out the letters on your phone keyboard.
I was wondering if youâd like to go out on a date sometime. To get coffee or see a movie or something.
Your finger hesitates over the send button, but then a little voice in the back of your head shouts out at you:
What are you waiting for? Youâre dying in less than a hundred days! Itâs now or never!
You press send.
She texts back almost immediately.
Sounds good to me! ;) Would next Wednesday work for you?
Any day works for you, at least until June 11th, but She doesnât know that.
Yeah! Sounds great.
You have your first date next Wednesday, at a local coffee shop. Mostly you catch up, since itâs been almost a year since youâve last seen each other (at graduation). You walk Her back to Her apartment a few blocks away, the two of you stopping quickly at a cute cupcake store to get a little something sweet. She gets frosting on Her nose, and when you try to point it out, She just laughs and puts a matching dab on your nose. Itâs little things like this you always liked about Her in college- this girl could make anything (like Professor Livingstonâs boring psych lectures) fun.
She kisses you on the cheek outside the door to Her apartment building, too. Youâre pretty sure She got some frosting on your cheek, and you have just over eighty days left to live, so you donât care.
Over the next month, you cross off twenty things from your list, including 6. Eat at a five-star restaurant and 10. See a show on Broadway. And as for Her, there She is. She stands by your side, making you laugh. You kiss Her for the first time on March 29, 2018- 3. Kiss Her. The next day you get an email back from the adoption agency with the name and phone number of your birth mother. They donât know who your birth father is. You call the number.
Your birth mother picks up. âHello?â
Whittaker. Your birth surname is Whittaker. You take a deep breath. âIs this Jeanne Whittaker?â
Thereâs a pause. âYes, this is she. May I ask who this is?â
Youâre not quite sure how to say it but it comes out anyway. âI- Iâm. Iâm your first child.â
When you say your name, Jeanne Whittaker starts to cry.
You meet her three days later in the same coffee shop in which you had your first date with Her. You have her hair and nose, but your eyes are lighter. She doesnât know who your father is either, but thatâs okay. One parent is enough. Your adoptive parents are thrilled, and they and Jeanne get along quite well when you introduce them the next week. They will have each other to lean on, when you are gone.
As June 11 approaches, you become obsessed with the idea of doing more, of being more. You take a day trip- 24 hours, nothing more, you donât have that kind of time- to the Bahamas; youâve always wanted to travel out of the USA (#11). You take fencing lessons every Thursday night from 5:30 to 7 (#46). You take part in a competitive eating contest on May 3rd (#34) and you get second-to-last place, but hey, it was fun. Your parents are slightly confused but they let you have your fun, especially when you promise them youâll stop being so weird in a month or two. (Youâll be dead by then. They donât need to know that.) And your girlfriend- She too is concerned. âWho takes a day trip to the Bahamas?â She asks one day, when youâre settling down on Her couch to watch all eight Harry Potter movies in a row (#27, luckily something She has always wanted to do as well). âAnd the eating contest? And the sudden drive to be able to do a backflip?â (Thatâs #38 and youâre so close to being able to do it.) âItâs like youâre trying to cross off everything on your bucket list in a month.â
âThree months, actually,â you correct Her, pulling the bowl of buttery popcorn towards you.
âWhy?â
You shrug, not willing to tell her the truth. âI guess Professor Hardingâs philosophy classes just got to me- about two months ago, I started thinking about how mortal everyone is, and it just hit me that I wanted to do everything I want to do as soon as I can, in case something happens.â
Her head has been resting on your shoulder but now She sits up straight. âYou asked me out two months ago.â
You shrug. âI did. Iâd wanted to for a while, but I guess I was too scared.â
She giggles and nuzzles Her head back into your shoulder. âIâm glad you did. I guess I have Professor Harding to thank for this, then!â
You feel a pang of guilt shoot through your chest, as if you just took a shot of really strong alcohol. She doesnât deserve this. Itâs not Her fault. The two of you are falling in love if youâre not in love already, and in one month and one day youâll be gone and She will have to live with this.
Itâs not Her fault that She isnât the one whoâs secretly dying.
The month is a blur. You cross off everything on your list except for two things by June 10th. You try a cigarette (#18)- youâre asthmatic, but now that you know it canât kill you after all, youâre willing to try. Suffice to say you can still be hurt, and you spend a solid two hours coughing before vowing to never smoke again. You quit your job with two weeks left to live (#9), and the sense of satisfaction you feel when you tell your overly annoying boss exactly what you think of him in the rudest language you can possibly think of is almost the best thing youâve ever felt, rivaled only by the way your insides twisted and fireworks went off inside your brain the first time you kissed Her. Finally, all you have to do by June 10 is 49. Go skydiving and 50. Die.
You want to spend as much time with Her as you can (youâve already said goodbye to your parents, as much as you could without actually saying goodbye at least, you did that yesterday) before your eventual death, so you invite Her to go skydiving with you. Sheâs terrified of heights but you are in possession of an excellent silver tongue, and before you know it the two of you are in a plane that is far too high for Her liking, each strapped to a skydiving specialist.
She grabs your arm, fear filling up Her eyes. You know She wonât back out unless you do as well, but you wonât back out. âPlease,â She says loudly over the roar of the airplane engines. âYou donât have to do everything on your bucket list. Youâve done so much, sweetie. Itâs okay, we can still say no.â
You shake your head. âI want to do this.â
Her mouth turns into a thin line. âYou and your damn bucket list. Iâll be so glad when this is over.â
Itâs time for Her to jump. She and Her specialist ready themselves at the lip of the plane.
You call out to Her, âYouâre going to do great. I love you.â And you do.
She rolls her eyes, but a faint smile appears on her red lips. âI love you too.â
Then they jump, hurtling out of the plane at top speed.
You follow their lead a few minutes later. Itâs exhilarating. You breathe in a little bit of cloud and you cough, but youâre hardly worried about your lungs as you hurtle through the blue sky with the lush green fields opening up far below you.
Itâs exhilarating until your parachute is open, and you look over to your left to see that Her parachute hasnât.
The next day you stand on the roof of your apartment building, looking down at the busy street below.
This wasnât how it was supposed to happen.
She was the one who was supposed to comfort your grieving parents, all three of them. It wasnât supposed to be you giving Her sobbing father a hug this morning, letting him cry into your shirt.
She was going to be the one to remember you. Not the other way around.
In a way youâre kind of relieved; She wonât ever fall in love again and therefore forget all about you. But you loved Her, you loved Her more than anything, and youâd have rathered She survived and loved again than died.
You walked up way too many flights of stairs to get to where you are right now.
Someone notices you, way down below. A shout goes up. There are ants pointing, and those ants are people. You hope that theyâll move out of the way, because youâre not going to be saved by any fire department or sweet-talker. Your time was set three months ago, and your time is in two minutes.
As you take a deep breath, you hear Her last words echo in your brain. I love you too.
âWatch out, world,â you whisper to no one but yourself, your watch ticking to 3:32. âHere I go.â
She died falling, and so will you.
By the time you hit the ground, it is 3:33 on June 11, 2018.
I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS MY HEART ASFDHEHZGDV
I love being soft đđ©
I designed this poster to use at my local March For Our Lives event, but Iâm uploading it in case anyone else wants to print it out and use it.
Feel free!