public nonsense

The full Greek public school experience
  • Missing several days’ worth of material because students are occupying the building in protest for the distinct lack of everything   
  • Having class outside because there aren’t enough classrooms
  • Having three separate subjects being taught by the same teacher because there aren’t enough of them. The teacher is bad at teaching all three subjects
  • Shortage of maps, educational posters, curtains and wall paint
  • Absolutely no shortage whatsoever of icons to put over the blackboard
  • Football team signs and logos carved/scribbled into chairs and desks
  • A lone, sad flag on a crumbling building
  • The overuse of the word “bullying”. But somehow a student’s head being bashed against the wall repeatedly is not bullying. That is okay
  • There are 7 computers in the whole school. They are all from 1993
  • Frequent cases of male teachers sexually abusing female students
  • And yet everyone still argues about whether Muslim students should be allowed to carry the flag instead
  • Biannual student parades
  • Said student parades used as an excuse for girls to dress provocatively and be seen by the whole city
  • “Πάτερ ημών ο εν τοις ουρανοίς…”
  • Teachers with an affinity for sociopolitical rants, despite their lack of any sort of knowledge
  • Teachers with an affinity for verbally abusing their students
  • The turbo folk group
  • A minimum of three students getting panic attacks before the pan-Hellenic exams
  • Hotels refusing to accept students on school trips because of drunk teenagers vandalizing whole islands
  • KNE graffiti propaganda on the walls outside
  • Folk dances in the schoolyard
  • First day priest visitations

Let me make this clear

I give no damn about the feelings or comfort of homophobes

I will kiss my boyfriend, I will call him my boyfriend Everywhere, in front of any one.
I will hold his hand, I will smooch his cheeks and I WILL NOT downplay our love or relationship for any reason.
I have had to watch heterosexual nonsense in public and On TV my WHOLE LIFE so you’re just gonna have to get used to people of different orientations being in love unashamed just like I did

I’m not toning down my feelings or hiding behind some bullshit label of “friends” to make any straight person more comfortable

I’m not ashamed to be gay
I’m not ashamed to have a partner
And mostly

I’m done being afraid of homophobes !!!
And I’m done letting them rule my life in any capacity !!!

And I SERIOUSLY Will not surround myself with people who think I should or think it’s acceptable to do so !!!

IM GAY AND TRANS AND IM NOT AFRAID OR ASHAMED
And I won’t let anyone make me feel like I have to be !!!

Adlock Drabbles

“Oh he’s positively gorgeous.” Irene purred, snatching the laptop from Sherlock’s lap to better stare at the screen. The detective had just opened the default browser and popular news, celebrity gossip, and other public nonsense was splattered across the screen. Apparently Irene had found something she liked. Sherlock rolled his eyes and slumped down in his chair, his head rolling over to rest on the arm of the chair as he pouted, his toy being taken from him, and also quite possibly due to jealousy. 

“God knows how much makeup, editing, and Photoshop it took to make him like-”

“Hush hush hushhh.” She shushed the consultant with a finger pressed to his lips as she balanced the laptop in one hand, her eyes fixed on the screen. “No. He’s much too attractive for a man. Look!” She exclaimed, completely taken aback as she turned the screen and practically shoved it in his face. 

“He’s a ginger.” He scoffed, his arms folding across his chest in a defiant manner. “I bet his eyes are Photo-shopped. He looks like an alien. His hair is a mess. His face is longer than my feet, one in front of the other. Get a hold of yourself Woman.” He grumbled. 

Irene raised her eyebrows and turned the screen to her again, she sighed in a swooning manner to further his agony. “I’d say you’re just jealous. Of Mr… Benedict Cumberbatch.” She accused, her lips quirking up in a smirk. 

“Ha!” He spat, “What a name.” He muttered, rolling his eyes again. 

“You’re one to talk.” Irene commented as she strolled off with the laptop to further investigate this delicious piece of man.

anonymous asked:

RE the public figure nonsense - she's switched to a business account, and public figure is one of the options you have when in a business account (you have to choose one to label what kind of "business" you are)

Wait, are you serious? She’s a business account now? What the fuck is she supposedly marketing, impossible pregnancy nose-jobs and shit-tea? 

anonymous asked:

Headcanon where you get a new haircut, hoping to impress a certain Potions Master, but it turns out your new look doesn't look impressive at all and you spend days avoiding him like the plague. Poor Severus is at his wit's end trying to figure out what was it he did to upset you.

You look in the mirror and nearly shriek.  Why did you think that this style would look good on you? It looked good on the model, but then again, you’re no model at all.

“I’m sorry,” the stylist says, smacking her gum crisply. “It came out pretty much just like the picture…but…like I said before, it’s really not all that flattering for your face shape.”

And of course, you just HAD to insist, despite her protests.

You stuff a hat over your head and hunch your way home, feeling defeated.


“I…I can’t let him see me like this!” you say, looking at your hair from side to side.  There is really no angle that looks good, and you despair, your mind fixated on how your hair has made your face look even less attractive than it normally looks. “Is it even possible to get pimples from a haircut?”

And there is a blemish, seemingly growing redder as you stare at it.

Of course, it is then that you hear a knock on your door.  A very specific knock that  you know…intimately.

Severus.

You ignore each knock and flatten yourself against the far wall so that he won’t see you if he looks through the windows. Your heart is racing and you feel like utter garbage for avoiding him, but your vanity and pride stop you.  You can hear him rustling in his pockets before he turns and his heavy boots stomp off and away from your apartment.

He sends you letters, and you send him short replies, never going into too much detail. You keep thinking that if you just come up with enough excuses, that he’ll think it’s totally normal that you haven’t seen him in over two weeks…and maybe two months more.  You know that it will take awhile for the sparkle magic to fade and your hair to become a somewhat more manageable length. Why you decided to go with such a hairstyle is beyond you, and even hats with ear flaps aren’t enough to hide it from view.

It is when you see your Floo activate that you realize that you have not covered all avenues of entry.  He tumbles through, his body dripping with particles of soot and his eyes filled with concern.

You scream and run from him, trying to get to your beanie, which you left on your bedside table, before he SEES and laughs or worse…just snorts and leaves. He’d never want to be seen with someone who would do such outrageous things to their hair.

“Wait! I just came to make sure that you are all right!” he’s calling out behind you, and you hear the thud of his boots as he runs after you. Your hands shake and you pull the hat down under your ears so hard that it hurts. You turn and let out a gasp of fear and back up against the bed as you see him step into your room, his eyes somewhere between concern and irritation.  He truly does look fierce in the half-light of the hallway.

“I….”  You look at him, wide-eyed.

He stares at your hands, holding the hat down and the defensive way you’re standing against the bed and crosses the room until he’s almost touching you.

“I thought you were ill…or….maybe hurt…or….or….”  He looks at you, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m sorry, Severus,” you say, letting go of your hat and reaching up to touch his cheek. “I didn’t mean to push you away…I just couldn’t bear to let you see me like…this.”

“Let me see.” His fingers are cool and firm on your chin as he lifts your face to his, his lips whispering against your own.

“No, you’ll-”

“Shhh, I won’t. I promise.”

Slowly, you nod and he takes his free hand and slowly pulls the beanie away from your head.

“It’s awful, I know,” you say, hating how bitter you sound.

“I never said I loved you for your hair.  If you want to have a rainbow sparkle undercut A-line, then I support you.”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. How Severus, of all people, knows these terms when even you had to learn what they were called from the hairstyle magazines you chose it from, is beyond you.

“Granted, I would not choose the style for my own hair, but I don’t exactly have room to judge seeing as I’ve been known as the Greasy Git for more than three decades worth of students.”

You chuckle softly, your eyes running with tears.

“There there, please don’t cry, my love.”  His arms are around you before you realize what is happening and he holds you tightly.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to be seen with me in public,” you say wetly.

“Nonsense!” he snorts. “Besides, i would have thought it would be the other way around.  You know that not everyone thinks that I’m the hero that Harry Potter constantly finds it necessary to tell everyone that I am.”

“Well, then, screw them, whoever they are,” you say, laughing halfheartedly.

“That’s the spirit,” Severus replies, kissing your forehead. “Now, then, let’s go out to that new pho place you’ve been going on about for weeks and weeks…well..weeks before you decided to become a fabulous hermit.”

You giggle. “No hats?”

He smiles back, warm and open. “No hats.”

You take his hand and feel confidence fill you for the first time in weeks.

“I love you, Severus.”

“And I love you, sparkles and all.”

And with that, your heart fills with even more love for him than ever before.

Chopped: Soul Eater

Okay, the aim of the game is simple, I give you a mystery basket of trash and you turn it into treasure. 

In each basket there will be three items that everyone gets, and one item that only you get. 

The challenge is to write minimum of 500 words, following each of these parameters. You will have a week to do so. I realize that isn’t a huge about of time, but this was inspired in part by high pressure cooking shows, and is intended for you to flex your writing muscles, and challenge your creativity. 

This is not a challenge to get bogged down over. It is intended to be fun, and make you think outside the box.

THE GRADING SYSTEM:

Quality of fic: 30 points, the more convincing your fic is as an actual legitimate piece of work, the higher you score here.

Overall Creativity: 20 points.

Use of Materials: 10 each for the shared item, 20 for the unique ones.

Bonus points available for successful rick rolls.

PRIZE:

The winner gets a cool pair/set of socks from amazon up to the value of fifteen dollars. (not including shipping.)

(if you are interested in donating a prize, please do.)

WANT TO WIN THOSE SOCKS?

Email pauline.dunne@gmail.com by 12PM GMT on the 29th of June, with the following information: your username, posting location, and waiver agreeing never to mention this nonsense in public. 

At 12PM GMT on the 1st of July, you will receive your basket, and you will have until 12PM GMT on the 8th of July to email me a link to the fic in it’s entirety.

Judging will take place over the following week.