Thaaaaank you @alwaysfangirly!! 💖 And omg, you’re so kind! And so patient! Because this took me forever and you were so sweet about it!
I hope you like what I did with it! (Even though it might be kinda messy and confusing…) Oh, and I also posted it on AO3, because… well, once more, it turned out longer than I intended…
“Pansy, where was I yesterday?”
“What was I doing? Did you see me talking to anyone?”
Draco paced the length of the eighth year common room, feeling Pansy’s intent stare on him.
“Those are really odd questions to ask. Have you lost your mind?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Draco muttered, stopping in front of the fireplace. “I think someone obliviated me. No, I am sure someone obliviated me.”
He heard Pansy get off the armchair and walk over to him.
“Are you sure? Why would someone do that to you?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Draco growled.
“But how can you be sure you’ve been obliviated? I mean, isn’t the point of obliviating someone that they… well, forget?”
Draco scratched the back of his neck, nodding absentmindedly.
“Something just felt off when I woke up this morning. I was sure it was Wednesday but then I saw the Daily Prophet and realised it was already Thursday. I remember everything until Tuesday night and waking up today. But if I try to think about what happened yesterday, my mind just goes blank. I’ve been racking my brain all day long. It’s the only explanation, Pansy. I-”
Draco stopped in his tracks when he saw Potter enter the common room. Something was… weird about him today. He didn’t look at Draco. He hadn’t looked at Draco all day. He always looked at Draco. He probably thought it went unnoticed but, of course, Draco noticed. He always stared right back whenever Potter briefly averted his eyes. Always. But why was Potter avoiding his gaze today?
“Potter!” Without a moment’s hesitation, he strode over to the Gryffindor.
“Hey Malfoy,” he mumbled, his eyes on the carpet.
“Potter, is there something you want to tell me?” Draco inquired, lowering his head to catch the other boy’s eye.
“No?” the Gryffindor said, his voice slightly shaking.
“I think there is. Out with it, Potter! Something happened yesterday, I know it.”
“You do?” Potter said in astonishment, finally looking up. His eyes were full of wonder and… apprehension. “But you shouldn’t-” He broke off, pressing his mouth into a thin line.
“I shouldn’t what?” Draco said, stepping closer and narrowing his eyes. “Remember? You did it, didn’t you? You were the one who obliviated me.”
Potter was trying very hard to keep a straight face, but Draco saw right through him.
“The question is,” he said slowly, lowering his voice, “why did you do it?”
Potter closed his eyes and let out a sigh.
“I’ve been feeling guilty about that all day. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Then why did you?” Draco asked.
“I panicked, okay? I didn’t do it on purpose. It was like a reflex.”
Now Draco simply had to know what had happened the day before. This sounded serious.
“Show me,” he said, grabbing Potter by the wrist.
“There’s got to be a Pensieve around here somewhere,” Draco muttered, already dragging Potter out of the common room.
“There is, actually,” Potter mumbled behind him.
Draco looked around the memory he and Potter had just dived into. They were in the dungeons and class had just started.
“Professor, why are you showing us Amortentia again?” one of the students asked, sounding more eager than annoyed.
“Because,” Professor Slughorn said with a smile, “I want you to brew an antidote today. So everyone take a quick sniff to get in the right mood and get started.”
Draco frowned as he watched himself go into the storage room, apparently ignoring Slughorn’s instructions. His eyes then fell on Potter, Pensieve-Potter to be precise, who stood in front of the cauldron full of Amortentia. Granger and the Weasel were standing beside him, grinning at each other. It was disgusting.
“What do you smell, Harry?” the Weasel asked. Potter blinked.
“Come on, we’re your friends. You can tell us,” the Weasel insisted, elbowing him.
“No, Ron, I literally smell nothing,” Potter muttered, sounding genuinely surprised.
“That’s strange,” Granger chimed in.
“Yeah.” Potter creased his eyebrows. “I would have thought-” He stopped abruptly as Draco, well, Pensieve-Draco, came into view again, locking eyes with him.
“Professor, have you ever heard of anyone who doesn’t smell anything? In regards to Amortentia, I mean.”
“Hermione,” Potter growled through gritted teeth.
“What, she didn’t say it was you,” the Weasel shrugged. Potter slapped a hand to his forehead and Draco saw himself smirk.
“You don’t smell anything, Potter? That’s pretty pathetic.” When Pensieve-Draco simply strutted back to his desk and began chopping his ingredients, the real Draco frowned.
“So that’s the big secret? This is why you obliviated me?” he asked.
“Wait for it,” Potter mumbled. Was Draco imagining it or were Potter’s cheeks turning a bit rosy? He was biting the inside of his cheek, too, and constantly shifting his weight. He was nervous.
Intrigued, Draco watched as the class proceeded without significant interruptions.
When Slughorn dismissed them and students started hurrying out of the classroom, Draco tapped his foot impatiently. He paused when he saw his past self purposely bump into Potter, causing the Gryffindor to drop all his books.
Smirking to himself, Pensieve-Draco bent down to help Pensieve-Potter pick up his things, quickly scanning the room. They were the only ones left.
“So, you really didn’t smell anything?” Draco heard himself ask. Pensieve-Potter just scowled at him. Draco could see what Pensieve-Potter obviously didn’t; Pensieve-Draco was disappointed. “Nothing at all?”
Getting up, Pensieve-Potter slammed down his books on the desk nearest to him.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I used to smell… something. So you can save your taunts about-”
“What is that?” Pensieve-Draco suddenly asked. Potter had been draping his Gryffindor scarf around his neck but had halted at the Slytherin’s outburst. The real Draco watched closely as his past self stretched out a hand and examined the scarf.
“What is it now?” Pensieve-Potter said, sounding irritated but also slightly nervous. “It’s my scarf.”
Pensieve-Draco slowly shook his head as he drew out his wand.
“No, something is off.” He pointed his wand at the scarf and before Potter could protest or interfere, he had mumbled, “Revelio.”
listen. i just am really happy that guzma, an abused and sad kid, grew up to make a whole team of people who didnt belong. gay kids. trans kids. bullied kids, kids with disabilities or speech impediments or terrible social skills. i’m glad he made them a club and gave them a chance to be happy. im glad plumeria is their protective big sister, someone who wants them to be safe and will do anything for them. im glad for team skull.
“Is it wrong to like…LIKE another person??” Dan said, leaning against the countertop. He was keeping Arin company while he did the dishes; didnt want to leave him there doing chores he honestly didnt NEED to do. (“The dishwasher is full and i really, REALLY dont want to leave any dishes in the sink until tomorrow morning”)
Arin wordlessly removed one of his earbuds, ear flicking in Dans general direction to try and hear him better.
“Say that again, ive got music playing too fucking loud to actually understand you over this running water.”
Dan stared at the pile of dishes in the sink, idly rubbing the dip of his gills along his neck. (‘Theyre getting kinda dry’ he thought)
“I was uhh, i was talking to Brian yesterday. Because you know, hes old-”
“- and hes been alive for awhile. So he tends to have alot of answers for things. But i think he falls a bit…short… on mortal…issues.”
ive noticed that there’s a creeping importance being granted specifically to american identity in this discourse. like i saw someone defending (in an idpol sense) that one twitter post bc while the twitter didnt belong to a japanese or asian american they were an american poc and thus had more of a right to talk about the issue than people in japan
So, I joined TCC like week ago (Ive been stalking yall for way longer tho lmaoo) and I decided to make my own post to antis.
Ok so, first of all, this ain’t a serial killer fandom, thank you. TCC ain’t a fandom, bless you.
Anyway, I’ll start with a little background alright ? So, I have been on tumblr maybe like 3 years, with different blogs. When I joined tumblr, I had an eating disorder and I used to have just a regular beauty blog, I saw pictures of other beautiful, skinny, anorectic, girls and compared myself to them daily. I posted my face there, my body, just everything, and I got a lot of compliments, mostly from men, adult men(I was a minor) and I started to feel like I need their acceptance and I need to be skinny and pretty in order to get it. I was well liked, I seemed happy and I made myself seem perfect, I was skinny, I took pictures with tons of makeup and filters. But in order to maintain that, I didn’t eat, I was really depressed, I had suicidal thoughts and shit. But I kept it going, really, those skinny girls you see on tumblr, they haven’t eaten in days to get those ribs showing, and in order to look so perfect they took tons of pictures, pushing their body in the weirdest positions, that are not normal, and it hurts to take those pictures. But that was all that I had, I thought I needed to be pretty, in order to be liked and happy. I thought I needed to be skinny or all the people would leave.
Then, one day I was listening to one song from Roope, he rapped about Jokela’s school massacre, I was really depressed back then, I had never been interested in any fictional characters, shows and such, I had always loved to read real stories and news about violent crimes, murders, etc since I was a little, I don’t know why, they excited me, but I just thought I was weird and that there weren’t any other people like me. Well, I went to read about the massacre, and there I found my way to read about columbine as well, I got really interested in it. I read everything about it and on some page the word “columbiners” catched my eye. I was like “omg, school shooter fandom, so gross, terrible, sick kids omg lolol they prolly planning a school shooting!!!!!111!! CALL THE POLICE !!!111!”, yea, just like you anti guys, I was one of yall too.
But I couldn’t help myself, and I went to tumblr and hit the search. I was shocked, I found people just like me, I found people who were also interested in violent crimes and murderers, I found people who didn’t say I was sick or weird for finding interest in those things. I found TCC. I felt like here I can talk about everything that fascinates me.
Then I joined TCC, people werent throwing their skinny bodies and makeup caked faces everywhere, I didn’t need to stress, everyone was just being themselves, making memes and jokes about dylann roof forgetting his damn age, no one was planning a fucking mass murder, I didnt need to be skinny, pretty and perfect, I didn’t need to fake anymore. I was able to openly talk about my interests and not just keep all my thoughts inside, because if I had kept all them inside, I would’ve definitely exploded at some point. Before TCC I thought I didnt belong, I thought no one understood me, I thought I was sick and something was wrong with me and everyone else was normal. But here, if I feel suicidal I can just hit someone up and they will talk me through it, I need advice? Literally anyones ready to help you. Violent thoughts ? EVERYONES READY TO TALK WITH YOU AND HELP YOU TO GET RID OF THEM, NO ONE IS COURAGING YOU TO SHOOT UP A SCHOOL U FUCKING DUMB CORNDOGS.
Theres much higher chance for those people with violent thoughts and interest in this kind of stuff to commit something if they feel like there is no one like them and they are left outside. But if you actually find people like you, community like TCC, you feel like you are not alone, there are people who understand you, you feel accepted somewhere. The fact TCC doesnt fail to also put a little fun in the mix w all the serious stuff also, is really amazing too.
Now your thoughts must be that “you need therapy u sick fuck, kill yourself” thank you for your concern love, I do go to therapy ! And many people in the TCC do ! Telling us to kill ourselves will definitely not help us, or make us want to leave TCC, the community, that actually supports us and doesnt want us to go and take our life. It just makes us to feel more like outsiders and that we dont belong anywhere but TCC, so jot that down.
Next point, is that the ones here interested in Columbine ARE NOT FUCKING HAPPY ABOUT THE SHOOTING, THEY WISH THEY COULDVE BEEN THERE FOR THE BOYS AND SHOWED THEM THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE LIKE THEM, AND THAT THEY DONT NEED TO DO IT. There are people out there just like Dylan and Eric, some of them have found TCC, and have found people who accept them, bullied kids have found a safe place where they can talk about their thoughts and dont have to keep them inside. The teenagers, interested in Columbine, have found friends here that get them up in the morning when the bullies are trying to push them down.
And if you are gonna say now that u aim your shit at the kids who say they condone, then just think about yourself, or some of your friends, when you were 13, I was a fucking edgy emo kid too, they get over it okay ? Dont tell them to kill themselves for it, they will understand it eventually, they are rebelling teenagers, just chill the fuck out. If you need to do something, try to calmly talk to them about it and tell that you understand how they feel right now, but things get better and why its not okay to say that. Just, calm, the, fuck, down. Jesus.
Also if you are gon say “u sick fucks serial killer worshippers omg”, then you are on the wrong lane honey. On the serial killer side of the TCC people are mostly just writing down facts, traits to spot a serial killer, how abusive parents and such are usually related to these things, how to avoid these things from happening again, or making jokes and editing pictures to make the killers look dumb as fuck.
And then about that some people find the killers attractive? So fucking what? Pretty sure that doesnt affect your fucking day in any way, and also, Richard Ramirez had really nice cheeckbones no matter is he a murderer or not, thats a fucking fact, amen.
If you are mad about that kid who said that tcc should be part of the pride: THE WHOLE FUCKING TCC IS DISAGREEING WITH THEM, LIKE LITERALLY ONE PERSON DOESNT REPRESENT THE WHOLE COMMUNITY, IT DOESNT WORK LIKE THAT, YOU CANT JUST PICK SOME DUMB KID AND SAY THAT EVERYONE IN THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD IS LIKE THEM.
Then last, may I ask, dont you ever get tired of being so angry? Like do yall eat salt for breakfast? Jesus.
heyo y'all, I know I mostly reblog other people’s hc’s, but i decided to write a few of my own–these will be messy and i probably won’t turn them into a fic, just thought I may as well try
((WARNINGS–mentions of anxiety, depression, and self-hatred))
•Lance loved loved LOVED to dance back home
•He took dance classes for a little while, but then his family didnt have the money to send him anymore
•He tries to get on without it, but dance had always been his filter
•had a bad day? Go dance. Grades not good enough? Go dance. That cute person in class turned him down? Go dance. ((Bisexual Lance))
•even once he stopped taking lessons, he went downtown and looked in the windows of the studio to see if he could learn anything new.
• he continued to practice, and steadily excelled, even without a teacher
•when he went to the Garrison, it was harder to find time and a safe place to dance, as he was always studying or in class, and he was afraid to dance anywhere but the gym at night, for fear of being caught
•obviously Hunk knew, and encouraged it constantly, but sometimes Lance would get into inconsolable states where he would sit and stare at the wall for hours at a time
•the only things he would talk about was he was only at the Garrison because Keith was kicked out, and he didnt belong there
•Hunk knows the only thing to make him feel better was for him to go dance, but getting him to come to class when he was like this was a struggle, much less go out and do something alone
•in these fits, Lance’s agoraphobia (fear of wide, empty spaces or outside) increased dramatically, and the thought of the completely empty gym was terrifying
•he knew Hunk wouldn’t mind if he practiced in the room, but it would make too much noise, Hunk wouldn’t be able to get anything done. Besides, he couldnt bear people watching him dance. It was intimate.
•and then the whole lion-aliens-space fiasco occurs
•and Lance is so fucking terrified
•because ‘Oh my god it’s Takashi Shirogane I’m going to DIE’
•'Oh. Oh no. Of course. Keith’
•because Keith shows up right when Lance was actually going to be first for once in his life
•and now everyone thinks he can’t do anything but flirt and joke
•so he slowly retreats into his shell
•his anxiety is overwhelming
•he can’t practice on the training deck, Keith’s always in there
•he can’t practice in his room, he can barely extend one lanky leg
•so with nowhere to go and no one to talk to (the paladins all have their own rooms) he spirals into a swirlig mass of depression and anxiety
•terrified of not being able to help, of being a burden, and of not being loved
•but exhausted by the act of sitting up
•he stops coming to meals and training
•everyone but Hunk leaves him alone for a couple days-they think he’s sick
•but Hunk recognizes what’s up and tries to help
•Lance locks him out
•eventually, Lance comes out to eat, and everyone is shocked by his appearance
•normally beautiful, well-put together Lance, looks, well
•he has huge bags under his eyes and his hands are shaking like crazy and he looks scared as hell
•he tried to sneak away so they don’t see him, but it doesnt work
•cue Hunk explaining to everyone that Lance not being able to dance has made him super anxious
•and everyone goes to his door and quietly waits til he comes out
•they make him eat and sleep
•and keep and eye on him til he’s a little healthier
•he learns to manage his anxiety, and is given a designated hour to practice
•he doesnt know they all have hiding spots to watch him dance
•and hot DAMN, this boy knows what he’s doing
THATS ALL I’M DOING FOR NOW. I’M TIRED. I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!
Wow that was supposed to be about dance and it just turned into Langst
Do you like?
Maybe I will continue.