hey guys, could you do me a favour and like/reblog or reply to this post if you’re pro-snape?
i’m putting together a blog for snapeloveposts and doing a page where we list a load of pro-snape blogs for people to browse. i’ve seen that asked a few times on here and i find everyone knows different people so none of us have a big list put together anywhere.
i obviously know a few but not all of you, so if you could like/reblog this so i can jot you down then that’d be great 👍
he is incredible strict on tea, “no, no, no. that’s too much milk!!” “it’s not strong enough, leave it in for three minutes!!”
laying in bed together, facing each other as his hand cards through your hair trying out different nicknames : “how about…..cupcake? dandelion? pancakes? cutie pie, sugar bunch, honey bunch of oats”….it goes on for hours unless you get distracted or fall asleep
“if we ever get a house together can we let harrison have a room?”
he’s used to getting up early for work outs so he wakes you for class or work or just to say good morning after he’s freshly showered and his hair is still damp and all curly
sometimes he gets a little insecure about his height so you place kisses along his neck, assuring him
when he gets excited he talks really fast and his accent gets thicker and he looks at you all wide eyed and smiley
“i’ve met him” he says whenever you’re watching a movie and an actor he’s crossed paths comes on screen
“ah, darlin’” he coos whenever you’re sad or upset or even just because he wants to say it
he talks to you in that cute lil voice he uses sometimes during interviews (i’m talking about the voice he uses when saying ‘im really good at the diet’)
mimicking your accent in stories about you or just to annoy you
loads and loads of pictures of you two occupy his camera roll, his favorite is one of the two of you laying in bed, being goofy
stealing those cute lil plaid pajama pants he has because they’re cosy
begging him to dance but them roasting him once he does because he’s actually a drunk dad at a wedding with a fedora.
Does the fandom making Keith knife obsessed annoy you too? It feels like his whole character was reduced to cryptid loving knife man and like... he has two knives. One that his mother left him, and probably the ONLY thing he has of her, and his bayard, and he doesn't like cryptids, there is never a mention of them and his board was legit to just keep organized and something loads of people do???
the knife thing doesn’t annoy me as much but I feel like it might eventually if ppl continue to reduce his character to them lol. I agree w everything you said here so much
This is a companion mini-series for Friends in Dark Places. I’m having a bit of trouble continuing that story right now, and I got a really good idea for this story, so I’m going to be updating this one for the next few weeks. Hope you guys understand.
Summary: (Sophomore year; about one year before Patton and Virgil meet) Patton isn’t feeling his normal happy self anymore.
Warnings: depression, panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts, self doubt, feelings of worthlessness, self hatred, minor descriptions of self harm/suicide, minor descriptions of verbal violence
Patton couldn’t get out of bed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t physically get out of bed; he didn’t have the mental strength to get up. He pulled his blue duvet over his eyes and aggressively punched the snooze button on his alarm clock. Another missed day of school. Whatever.
Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Shea walked into Pat’s room with a worried expression pulling at her face. This was the third time this month he hadn’t gotten up for school.
“Hey, kiddo. You feeling okay?” she whispered, softly making her way to the side of his bed. Patton was laying in a tight ball under the covers; his hair barely poking out from underneath it.
“My stomach hurts really bad…” Lies. Everything he’d been saying recently was one giant lie. “I think I should stay home today.”
His mom sighed. “Alright. I’ll leave some soup in the fridge for you to heat up if you get hungry, but I’ve got to go to work now. Love you.”
“Love you too.” As soon as he heard the door click shut, Patton released the choked sob he’d been holding in. There was no reason for him to be so sad; he had a wonderful family, so many beautiful belongings, caring friends. And yet here he was, laying in bed and feeling like the most useless piece of garbage known to man.
Tears ran across the bridge of his nose and across his cheek, sinking into his pillowcase and leaving a growing wet patch in the fabric. Pat stayed under his blanket crying until he finally was released into the realm of sleep
“Have you seen Patton? He wasn’t in first block,” Roman asked Logan as they sat down at their lunch table. Patton never missed school unless he physically couldn’t get out of bed. And yet this was the third time this month he’d been absent.
“No, and I’m starting to get worried. He’s been acting strangely as of late. I can’t help but wonder what must be going on.” Logan took a bite of his sandwich and flipped on his phone, pulling up Patton’s text conversation. “And look.”
Read October 7 at 7:15 pm
Patton, what did you get for the third problem in the chemistry packet? I want to double check my answers.
Delivered October 7 at 7:18 pm
I haven’t done it yet. I’ll check in with you after advisement tomorrow.
Read October 7 at 7:25 pm
Don’t worry about it, Patton. I’ll just ask someone else. Good night.
“I sent that first text at around seven pm, which was around the time I finished my homework after crew, and the second at 7:19, so right after he sent his text. He never takes that long to look at or reply to texts. Plus, he didn’t say goodnight to me. I truly am worried.” Logan pushed up his glasses, which had slipped down his nose, and looked at Roman. The usually over-the-top teen looked sullen as he mulled over the information.
“Can your mom drive us to Patton’s house after school?”
They arrived at Pat’s as soon as humanly possible after school. They’d explained to Mrs. Christiansen that Patton had missed school and they were going to help him figure out what homework he needed to get done. Thankfully, she’d bought the lie and gave them no questions.
Roman hopped out of the minivan and practically sprinted to the door, roughly poking the doorbell. He could hear the bright ring sound through the house as Logan walked up behind him. They waited for two minutes, but nobody showed up. He rang again, this time with less aggression.
Less than a minute later, the door swung open and a disheveled Patton was standing in the doorway. His hair was going in practically every direction and he had rumpled pajamas that were far too large for his slight frame. Pat’s nose was red and his eyes looked slightly puffy. The smile on his lips looked fake and didn’t meet his eyes in the slightest.
“Hey, guys! What’s up?” The cheerful ring in Patton’s voice was gone, replaced by a duller version of himself.
Act natural. They can’t know. This is your cross to bear; not theirs.
“We wanted to come check on you since you didn’t come to school,” Logan explained, casting a worried glance at Roman. This was unsettling.
Just get them out.
“Thanks for the gesture, kiddos, but I’m all good! Just a bit of a cold, you know? Well, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” The door began to swing closed, but Ro shot out his hand to stop it.
Damn it! Try harder.
“Woah, Pat. Calm down there. Are you sure you’re okay; you look like you’ve been crying.” Roman’s voice was laced with caution, not wanting to seem too interrogative.
Patton’s smile faltered for a second before coming back with even more faux brightness than ever. “It’s just the cold. Darn thing’s making my eyes water and nose run!”
Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies.
“Right…” Logan didn’t believe a word he was saying. “Why didn’t you come to school today? You seem well enough for your usual standards to not miss—OW!”
Roman’s heel dug hard into Logan’s toes, warning him not to overstep any boundaries.
“I was feeling really awful this morning; I could barely roll over in bed.”
“Pat, we’re just worried about you. You’re our best friend,” Roman interjected.
I’m doing fine.
“There’s no need! I’m doing great!”
Logan desperately cut in. “You haven’t been acting like yourself recently. Our text conversations have been curt and to the point, and you haven’t sent your trademark goodnight text in well over a week—“
“I SAID I’M FINE!” Patton yelled, finally at the end of his rope. His two friends stared at him in shock, mouths hanging open and eyes wide. Pat stood there for a moment to catch his breath before he realized what he’d just done. He sunk to the ground and roughly tugged at his hair in frustration. Tears began to stream down his face and sobs racked his body.
Suddenly, he was gently picked up off the floor and carried through his house until he was set down on his soft bed. Blankets wrapped around him and soothing words were whispered as he let out all of the pent up shit he’d stored away.
Soon enough, the tears stopped coming and Patton’s breathing slowed down. He shifted to look at Logan, who was sitting cross legged next to him and absently petting Pat’s hair.
“I don’t deserve you guys,” Pat mumbled, shying away from Logan’s touch. That snapped Lo out of his thoughts.
“What do you mean? Of course you do! If anything, Roman and I don’t deserve you.” Logan had his “mom voice” on and was ready to fight any of Patton’s worries away.
“No I don’t. You guys are fantastic and nice, but I’m terrible. I yelled at you. That’s not something that any good friend should do.” Patton sighed and rolled his face back into his pillow. Hopelessness travelled through his body in icy waves.
Logan made an affronted noise. “That is most certainly not true. Roman and I were pushing you past your breaking point; that was our fault. We shouldn’t have done that. You are the best friend anyone could ask for, Patton. You’re compassionate, kind, loyal, and most of all you love each of us with your entire heart.”
“I guess…” Pat trailed off into his pillow. He heard the door click open and someone, probably Roman, walk in. Logan gently kissed his hair and slid off the bed, walking to the door before softly closing it again. Outside he could faintly hear the muffled voices of his friends talking, but he couldn’t quite make out their words.
He slowly drifted back to sleep as his emotional exhaustion caught up with him.
“How is he?” Roman asked once the door was closed, making sure his voice was hushed enough that Patton wouldn’t be able to hear.
“I think he’s okay…” Logan fidgeted with his hands. “But I do believe he’s depressed. He has a lot of the symptoms: pessimistic attitude, feelings of worthlessness, difficulty concentrating, weight loss. I-I’m really worried about him, Roman.”
Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he broke down. Patton was supposed to be the light of the group. He was supposed to provide comfort to them, and they’d in return neglected him. It was their fault. And now they’d lost constancy in their group. Logan’s breathing sped up as he lost control of his feelings.
“Woah, Logan. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.” Roman enveloped Lo in a soft hug. Immoderately, his friend pushed him away, sinking to the floor and pushing his back against the wall. Ro stares at him for a moment in shock before kneeling down and just barely resting his hand on Logan’s knee.
“Hey. You’re going to be okay. Just listen to my voice, okay?” Roman softly began to sing one of Logan’s favorite Pink Floyd songs until he was calm again. “That’s good, Lo. Why don’t you go take a nap in Pat’s bed while I do some research?”
Logan nodded and allowed himself to be led to the plush bed, where he almost instantly fell asleep. Roman sadly smiled at his two friends, both suffering in such different ways.
He sat down at Pat’s desk, opening the laptop and typing in the password. pattoncake2001. As much as Ro loved Patton, he really needed to get more secure passwords.
Google Chrome popped up once the screen had loaded. Roman’s heart dropped as he looked at the open tabs.
lasting feelings of worthlessness
symptoms of depression
how to hide depression from others
He impulsively collapsed the browser and stared at the dark background of the Spotify app before regaining his senses. Ro felt so bad for Patton; he couldn’t even begin to imagine what his friend must be going through.
As he moved to close Spotify, he caught sight of the playlists Pat had saved. Most of them were things he’d normally listen to, like X Ambassadors, but there were some playlists named “depression help” that just made Roman’s mood sink even further.
After a few more minutes of clicking around, he reopened Chrome and began to Google symptoms of depression for himself. He clicked on the first few links, finding mostly the same things, but then found a link to a Tumblr blog. Hmm. That might help.
Roman immediately regretted his decision. Graphic images of self harm and suicide flooded his screen. Panic bubbles up in his chest until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He snapped the laptop shut and pushed it away from him as if it had physically hurt him.
Okay but thought: HL pics like this set of maplethorpe pics s-media-cache-ak0*pinimg*com/originals/9f/6a/5f/9f6a5f730b04ccfc471a81f67135bdfa*jpg (if it doesn't load its the one of the two men with crowns (kings) dancing together
i LIKE to think of myself as a punk, i identify as a punk bc of loads of shit, and in school i'm "the bad guy" and some people actually get afraid to talk to me, i have the "i hate you" face even if i don't hate (some of) the people surrounding me, that's just my face, but anyone who actually knows me knows i'm also quite the softie who doesn't mean to hurt anyone and cries at puppies, i just take the bad boy role bc that's my reputation, but i'm not. (1)
I may be a punk, but not a bad person and those are two different things, I wish people knew that (2)
Yeah, it sucks we are coded as violent n bad. But honestly the most accepting and calm and good people I met were punks
Get a load of this crap, Radfemtori's post about how she basically doesn't give two shits about female rapists and male rape victims is getting hundreds of more notes every few hours, basically pissing more people off. How fucked up is that?
sum: he is everything he used to be–a mess, a trickster, and a boy at heart. [puckabrina] a/n: screw the epilogues, tbh.
The summer before her senior year, Sabrina doesn't spend many a day inside a house. While she technically does stay at her grandmother’s every night, by ten o’clock each morning, she’s made it out the door, a satchel hanging off one shoulder and a loaded key chain jangling in her right hand.
Daphne follows her from time to time, tagging along when there isn’t a boyfriend to be hung around with. The two gradually take mystery solving off of Relda’s shoulders, working themselves into the profession with more ease each summer. The tomes in the bookshelf at home are never empty of ink that flies across the pages, and from time to time, Red sneaks downstairs a while after they've left to read the adventures of the day before.
Okay so straight-up the weirdest thing that happened to me in middle school was this:
In history class, our teacher would read from the memoirs of a guy who traveled America on his motorcycle, making observations on what was going on in the world, including mundane things like the change of the shape of the Coca Cola bottle in 1916. His name was Harmon and he liked to drink coke paired with chocolate bars.
This wasn’t the weird part. It made sense, enough, that someone would have decided that we kids needed to get a more individual sense of history.
However, then we were told that this Harmon guy was actually still alive.
Cool, we thought. He’d be over a hundred, but whatever. That can happen.
And then we were told that we would be having a “Harmon Days” event in which Harmon would visit our school and give a talk and blah blah you know I don’t even remember it that clearly? There were supposed to be other events and activities and we would all get coke and chocolate.
Also. We were supposed to dress up in our best costumes of the era of his memoirs
SHOUTOUT TO MY MOM who made me a skirt and matching jacket w/puffed sleeves for this event I had a great costume and I even used it again before I totally grew out of it. But she put in so much effort for something that REALLY DIDN’T DESERVE IT.
Because during Harmon’s talk, he revealed that he was…not real.
So picture this: you have a bunch of middle school kids sort of dressed up like they were from the 19-teens, and this really, really old dude takes the podium to talk to them. And his talk is going along, blah blah blah, and then he PEELS OFF HIS FACE. And it doesn’t come off all at once, so he keeps PICKING AT the extremely professional old-man latex makeup he was wearing.
And I think, I think, because I cannot recall exactly through the haze of betrayal, that he kept talking about how he was the creator of the FICTIONAL Harmon (who we had all grown attached to while thinking of him as a REAL person) and you know what? I don’t recall anything else. I just remembered being PISSED OFF because I had been digging getting a personal view of history but now how could I trust than anything we had heard was really how it had been? I had already faced the deceptions of the American Diaries series or whatever. WHY had we been given a FAKE in history class??? Why? And why had it been such an ELABORATE fake?????
I remembered most of the other kids being disgusted, but most of the adults were really pleased? One of them actually referred to the whole thing as “giving them [aka us] Santa Claus again” WRONG. You gave us a guy who was moderately interesting because he was real and had really seen history. As a fiction, it was unutterably dull. Santa Claus is magic and brings presents and has a whole huge cultural persona. Who the fuck was Harmon? No one.
Was this a local author? Did this happen in any other middle schools? Why couldn’t we have read a real memoir? WHO AUTHORIZED THIS?
There was more historical accuracy in the making of my simplicity-pattern costume than Harmon’s entire existence.
And the thing is, lots of other weird things happened to me in middle school, but they all have context–maybe not the best context, but it’s there. Except for Harmon. Fucking Harmon. It’s like every teacher was replaced with a space alien that thought this would be a great idea for a month or two, and then switched back to being their mostly good selves.
So, anyway, that’s my experience with Harmon Days, which was a load of bullshit, except for the costume my mom made, go mom, you are the real MVP.
(1/2) please imagine Jason unable to completely get rid of Tim's coffee stashes so instead of chucking them, he replaces them with decaf coffee grounds and Tim doesn't notice?? I mean he loads his coffee up with so much sugar and cream
that it’s not like he could taste a difference anyway. but he DOES notice that he doesn’t feel as energized lately and he thinks the lack of sleep is finally catching up to him so he takes a good long fucking nap and Jason’s mission is Complete
LOL ohh my gosh that’s so sneaky, I love it.
After his nap, Tim gets suspicious and starts researching caffeine tolerance.
He tests the coffee.
Jason goes into hiding for two weeks.
But Tim does have to admit that sleep is good, and he’s slightly more willing to actually do it once in a while. So Jason still counts it as a win.
How do you feel about white cosplayers doing black characters? I ask since I notice people throw a fit if someone who isn't white cosplays a white character and get's shit said about it but if someone who's white cosplays any race they get hated by everyone including those who say color doesn't matter
its a loaded question. there are two possible answers which i have seen people very passionately adhere to. One side being "No, white people should never cosplay POC characters, its disrespectful, and they should stick to the hundreds of pale skinned characters instead", and the otherside, “Sure, pale skinned people can cosplay POC characters if they like the character, anyone can cosplay any character they love regardless of the skin colors involved”
there is no correct answer to this that will appease everyone, because there is no one unanimously agreed upon answer. I can only say my own opinion which is that anyone should cosplay anyone they want and not let anything in this whole world stop them. If you’re a dark skinned Native American and you want to cosplay Sailor Moon, shine on Pretty Guardian. If youre a pale red-head and you want to cosplay Korra, kick some ass Avatar. If youre Chinese and you want to cosplay Adventure Time’s Fiona, algebraic. If you’re black and you want to cosplay Tohru Honda (thats goddamn right, Fruits Basket mother fuckers), you go look cute in your sailor uniform and be adorable. If you’re a woman and you want to cosplay a male character, do it. If youre a man and you want to cosplay a female character, dont let anyone talk you out of it.
however, i know there are vast seas of people who would strongly disagree with me, call me names for having that opinion and so forth, which is why that is the only thing i will have to say on this subject. Everyone do what you love and, most importantly, mind your own business . <3
Hi I'm looking for a fic I read a while ago, the council can see the 100 via surveillance cameras and are wanting the members of the 100 to pair with one another to begin reproducing and Clarke doesn't want that to happen to they threaten that the wristbands are loaded with a prison that will kill those who refuse to do so, Bellamy and Clarke pretend to be together to fool the council until they can get the wristbands off, ever heard of it
You know, we’re having a hard time pinning this down. Can any of our followers help?