thebooki3h
Nerd. For. Literature. (The Fandom Kind)
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sj-hyukge
Todo y nada a la vez.
xxs0
𝔈𝔳𝔞 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔢
harrybutterflies
🌸I’m Gonna Dream Of How You...🌸
old-lol-surf
LOL-SURF!
httpsghostie
spider
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whenever I vote in a poll and choose the most popular option I am a champion and when I pick the least popular option I am part of the revolutionary underdog class fighting against the posers
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CEO of disappearing and ignoring people when I'm not in the mood.
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Stacy: What'd you make for Jeremy?
Candace, staring at the food she just burned: Regret.
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Phineas: My mattress is strapped to eight roombas and I leave all my doors open at night so the roombas can go where they need to go. I wake up where they want me to be. I trust their decisions.
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fake relationship but its a king and his concubine that was once an amazing soldier but he couldn’t go up the ranks for whatever reason so the king was like listen. hear me out. you can be my strategy dude. u just gotta be okay w walking around shirtless a lot. and soldier dude is like man that’s an UPSIDE and yknow they end up falling in love
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I received parental validation growing up, I did. I was encouraged to learn and my interests were supported.
That sounds all well and good until I add that everything was building up for college. That’s all my dad thought about.
He pushed me to learn more math than I needed to at my grade level, for college.
He encouraged me to try clubs and sports for college.
He encouraged me to read more, even though it was fiction, for college.
This wasn’t always explicitly stated especially around my own interests, but the undertone of “for college” was always there.
There are very few things I can think of that weren’t somehow tied to me getting into college. Everyone in my family talked about college to me.
I get that as you get older especially in high school that’s what you hear but my father was talking to me about college in 2nd grade.
I was praised for my achievements, but they never felt like enough for college, there was never enough.
I was constantly grilled about my friends and their ambitions, and they were always placed on a scale of college worthy or not. I could see it in my parents eyes that they were looking for bad influences to lead me away from college.
Acedemic success was the primary source of praise that I received once I hit 3rd grade. Everything else was secondary. My interests were allowed as long as they didn’t get in the way and for a long time that was fine.
I could read in class because the material was easy to absorb. I could read for hours at home because the homework was easy and I enjoyed the pursuit of knowledge. When actual success and achievement played a role in how my parents loved me, that was when it began to crumble.
I had no study habits and I avoided making them because I could usually get away with doing nothing extra bedsides homework. When I was forgetful or I procrastinated I was told to “try harder” or “do better”. Any actual advice amounted to those two sentiments but never helped.
My parents couldn’t figure out why when they told me to just study, it didn’t work. When grounding me and punishing me for reviving bad grades did nothing but push me away.
I tried asking for help, for something that would actually be useful to me, but their advice always amounted to the same things. Then I became an age where it was my fault, which frankly was too early. My forgetfulness and lack of ability to focus on studying, even when I asked for help was always my fault.
So by the time I got to the 8th grade I stopped asking and I was told that I would bring my grades up (Which were mostly As with the occasional B)
For college was my only source of validation, it was when I was given affection or at the very least validation. They told me they loved me I could feel it in the sense that they meant it but it always felt conditional.
I’m in college now and it’s very conditional because now it’s for medical school. Everything is for medical school which was a deduction that I made at 10 because I was given 3 options.
Doctor, Lawyer, engineer. I choose doctor because it sounded nice. If it wasn’t for college it was for medical school. It feels like that’s what my life has become even if it’s much more of a disappointment to them.
They can’t imagine I should struggle so much when I was so academically successful in elementary school.
My life has been for college, and I don’t even know what I want anymore other than to just exist and be loved for me and not the future accolades I could provide for my parents. I want to be held and feel loved and not feel for college. I’m tired of college, I’d like to be free of college, I wonder what that feels like?
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Phineas and Ferb Marvel episode
So I just watched the phineas and ferb marvel specials and y’all remember that Baljeet get turned into Hulk-Jeet? and also that ironman gave ferb his card for an internship?
I want a fic thats a MCU phineas and ferb crossover that includes those details. They never actually reversed the Hulkification of Baljeet. I just want that
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Consider:
Fury walking into avengers tower :STARK
Peter, an exhausted mentally unstable teenager who hasn’t slept in probably several days, but also has gen z humor who is on the ceiling : STARK?? like stark NAKED *falls*
Tony, who also hasn’t slept for several days: WHOS NAKED THERE IS A CHILD
Fury:
Fury: *walks out*
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Ya know that one spy kids movie where there was a deaf kid and the bad guys henchman took his hearing aids and the Bad Guy was like dude???? where are your manners???? That’s a kid trying to thwart me and he can’t hear my evil monologue???? Give him back his hearing aids??? They’re not weapons??? Common sense pls??? you’re embarrassing me cmon man
I want that in more things. Where the henchmen take away something that the Hero(s) need, like a wheelchair or hearing aids or guide dog or cane or something and the Bad Guy is like wtf Gerald? We have standards man. And like the hero is still perfectly capable of kicking the Bad Guys ass, even without the thing that helps with their disability, but the Bad Guy is just like they need that wheelchair??? 1. Do you want to carry them so they can listen to my backstory bc you took away their custom mega expensive wheelchair???? 2. It’s a custom wheelchair Gerald, it’s built for speed, comfort and style look at it Gerald it matches their color-scheme
Really I’m picturing a doofenshmirtz type guy who’s like evil, but with standards
And imagine the Bad Guy find out that the henchman like broke the hero’s thing, and the bad guys just like you broke their hearing aids??? That’s so unnecessary man and rude. I though we talked about manners Gerald. Here hero have some money ( proceeds to hand hero like 10x the amount they would need for a replacement thing) and I apologize for these henchmen and their lack of manners
Yea I want that
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My grandmother is a goddess.
This woman
grew up with nothing in the Philippines
convinced a white man in the US, over letters, to marry her and bring her over to the states in her early 20s.
Went to midwife school
Worked in a hospital for over 50 years
Had 3 planned kids and a surprise kid ( my mother) in the 70s
Saved enough money to bring HER mother from the Philippines to the states to help raise the kids ( both of my grandparents had time consuming jobs and that’s just what she knew)
Is multilingual even though her English isn’t that great ( who cares this woman is a queen)
Supports all of her adult children in any way she can 2/4 of them have moved back home in some capacity ( one with both of her children in tow after 2 divorces)
Watched 7 grandchildren during the summer and after school whenever it was needed for about 14 years consecutively ( not all at the same time because we’re a bunch of different ages)
Flys back to her family every two years with a fuck ton of boxes of stuff to give them
Sends her family a fuck ton of boxes of stuff at least once a year ( most times twice a year, and I’m talking at least 4 giant boxes)
Has helped her children buy cars and house no question( this has unfortunately happened a few times, and my grandfather chips in too, but he’s been retired for about 20 years)
Has retired THREE TIMES and she got bored so she got ANOTHER JOB AT 82
She is very crafty, she likes to sew and knit and crochet ( I just love this about her)
She is the matriarch of her family in the Philippines and has been for like three decades. ( she outlasted several brothers but was the matriarch before that)
She regularly sends money to them too which helps support at least like 40 people
She owns a lot of property in the Philippines and lets people just live there that aren’t family. She also helps support them.
She was diagnosed with a crippling pain disorder like 40 years ago. The doctors told her that she would be in a wheelchair within 5 years of the diagnosis. She was in so much pain they prescribed her opiates. She said fuck no I’m not doing THAT. That’s LAME bitch. She has never used a wheel chair and she has not taken anything stronger than an ibuprofen for her pain. ( although she recently has had my mom driver her to a weed dispensary to get creams for her back, and I think it is adorable because she gets shy about talking about it)
She is also very smol. She is the shortest one in the family at like 4’ 10”
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imagine hiring an assassin and they talk to you in a customer service voice
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Rucksacks and Smiles
Sirius tried to stand stoic like Remus, but he had never been good at hiding his feelings. Always got him in trouble with his parents. His mother, may she rest in hell, used to say his bleeding heart was on display for the world to see.
He tried. He really tried to hold it together, but everything was so different now, and he didn’t like it.
“Will you quit pacing?” Remus asked, not even bothering to spare him a glance, his eyes were on a group of people who were clearly talking about them if their glares and not so subtle sneers were anything to go by.
“I’m just nervous,” Sirius huffed, running a hand through his previously pristine hair. “This is all a mistake.”
Sirius tried not to be bothered by the way Remus snorted, but what really got to him was the accompanying eye roll.
“We shouldn’t have let him go,” Sirius continued, fist slamming against his palm for emphasis. Five was too young. “So much could have gone wrong. What if Harry—”
“Sirius.” The amusement in Remus’ tone was almost enough to make Sirius hex him. “It’s just Magical Nursery Care. Harry is fine.”
“But what if the other kids are mean to him?”
Remus finally gave Sirius his full attention; eyes soft and lips stretched into a pretty smile that almost served as a distraction.
“Then he’ll have a sweet, caring but albeit overprotective and annoying parent to help pick up the pieces.”
Sirius’ heart clenched. “I’m not his—”
“You’re not his father, but we are the only parents he’s ever known.”
Silence stretched between them as Sirius tried to think of a way to explain the jumbled mess of emotions that pitted in his stomach, refusing to move.
Before he could say anything, the front doors opened and out came a rush of little demons all searching for their parents. Sirius stood on Remus’ feet in an attempt to see Harry better.
“Ow, get the fuck—”
“There are children present.” Sirius tried to be serious but failed at the rage on Remus’ face, and couldn’t stop the laugh that had been threatening to burst out.
“Moony!”
Sirius whipped his head at the distress in Harry’s voice. But it was the tear tracks and wobbly lips that gutted him.
Before Remus bent down, Harry jumped into his arms, small hands clinging to the back of Remus’ neck. Sirius felt helpless watching Harry cry, he would do anything to make it stop. Was that what parents felt like too?
“What happened?” Sirius asked, hand moving to pat the back of Harry’s back.
“They don’t like me.”
Sirius glared at Remus, that’s what he had been worried about.
“I’m sure there was someone—”
“No!” Harry shook his head so fast that his hair went all over the place, some strands falling into his eyes. “They made fun of my rucksack.”
His what?
That was when Sirius saw some kind of satchel on Harry’s back. It was inherently Muggle, especially considering the odd yellow bird of some kind stitched into the design.
“Oh.” Before Remus’ eyes closed, Sirius could see guilt in them and that just made him more confused.
“He picked it out,” Remus whispered when Sirius poked him in the arm, patience wearing thin. “Yesterday in Muggle London.”
“Well,” Sirius began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it’s cute.”
Harry sniffled as he wiped his eyes. “Really?”
Kind of. The bird gave him the creeps, but he could grow to love it!
“Absolutely.”
The smile he got in return was small and watery, but it was a start.
“Excuse me.”
Sirius blinked down into earnest silver eyes. The familiarity to them was a punch to the gut; memories of his youth bubbling to the surface, none of them good.
Harry wiggled until Remus let him down. There was a wary look on Harry’s face as he crossed his arms.
“What do you want?”
Keep reading
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I want a love that is full of passion.
I want a soft love, with kind touches and small acts that brighten the day.
I want a comfortable love, where it’s home where ever we are.
I want a confident love, I never want to doubt the love we share.
I want a changing love, I want to grow and I’m sure you do too.
I want a small love, the little things, the actions, mean more than the big things sometimes.
I want an adventurous love, what can life be if we try new things and go new places.
I want a reassuring love, I am good as I am and you love me just as you are good as you are and I love you.
I want a judgemental love, I’m a weirdo and it’s ok for you to judge my acts of tomfoolery, if you indulge in my eccentricities.
I want a silly love, snowball fights and nerf gun wars are not just for children. I don’t believe in limited fun.
I want a serious love, I take my feelings for you seriously and I hope you do the same.
I want a supportive love, should you decide to quit your job because your unhappy I will be there to hold your hand.
I want a curious love, I always want to learn new things about you and I hope you feel the same.
I want a stern love, for when we are unreasonable and need to hear reason.
I want an understanding love, for when the days are hard and getting out of bed feels like climbing a mountain.
I want an easy love, because there is a point where love is not worth it and we should work together.
I want a communicative love, talk to me so I understand, even if it is hard. I want to listen to you and hear your struggles, and know that you’ll do the same.
I want a reciprocated love, I will put the work in if you will too.
Romantic love is great and someday I’ll want that too and it will be all of the great things I want because someone will love me back, but today I’m satisfied with the way I love you.
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Someone on TikTok said that bitches with anxiety love the enemies to lovers trope because the idea of having someone see all of our negative traits first and then still fall in love with us is really comforting since we worry that if someone sees our negative traits after they fall in love, they’ll leave us.
It’s me, I’m bitches.
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seeing fanart of siblings
“don’t tag as [ship name]!”
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it’s the 21st day of the 21st year of the 21st century.
you can only reblog this today.
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The notes are broken. This is what tumblr is all about apparently.
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