welp, just got my first “covid isn’t real, take your fucking mask off” yelled at me :)
GUYS BOOST PLEASE SHE’S AN AMAZING PERSON AND I LIVE FOR HER WRITING!!!
Hi so it looks like no one cares about me… I note equals 1 day? I just don’t have the energy to live in a world where no one cares. I pour my heart and soul into my writing for 5 notes. I do everything my parents tell me to still get yelled at.
So this is my 1 note is 1 day I stay alive post. Because I’m fucking tired of projecting my problems onto fictional characters.
⚠️TW SELF HARM⚠️
So I cut myself again tonight… its bad this time. Blood. Gonna take longer to heal. My parents are just so totally fucked up im not sure I can do this any longer. Fuck. I’m really trying you guys, but I’m exhausted.
I know no one probably cares but if you can help me - I don’t know like suggest apps or strategies or anything… I don’t want to live but I’m too scared to die.
Anything is better than this. I’m already in hell.
Fucking signal BOOST!!!
That are still better than what She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tries to tweet
- If Lee Jordan lived in America and was a Muggle, he would be one of the people doing the Weekend Reports for SNL
- Ted Tonks was an absolute Dad ™ - bad jokes, sneezing really loudly, forgetting the names of his daughter’s friends, not understanding slang, “if you hurt my daughter i will hurt you” to potential suitors, etc.
- Harry drank one of Ginny’s energy drinks once so she gave him another one later and said “I saw you liked these so I got you one” but she put salt in it.
- Also, their kids once walked in on them doing the WAP because the entire Potter family got bored during quarantine and got TikTok
- When Tonks went to her first potions class she morphed her face into a copy of Snape’s. …Hufflepuff had negative points for a few days
- Tonks bewitched Moody’s quill once so that all he could write was “CONSTANT VIGILANCE”
How does this not have more notes?
Why would anyone want to consume it!?
I teach my 7th graders about the dangers of dihydrogen monoxide.
I bring in a graduated cylinder of it and we talk about how it’s used in nuclear power plants and gmo crops. How inhaling even the small amount I’m holding can lead to suffocation or even death. It’s found in vaccines and cancer cells, but also in infant formula and pet food. It is a huge component of acid rain, can cause severe burns, and has been found in places that were thought to be the most pristine and unpolluted locations on earth.
We talk about how there are little to no regulations on this chemical. No bans, no warning labels, and most manufacturers don’t even have to disclose their use of it in their products.
My students are outraged. We talk about what we can do. Create posters and flyers to spread awareness. Contact our senators with petitions to ban DHMO. Spread this information all over social media.
Then I explain that the real problem with dihydrogen monoxide is that….when I am thirsty…there is just nothing else as refreshing, and then I watch their looks of absolute shock and horror as I drink the entire vial down.
I. Fucking. Love. This.
This is how misinformation works. How propaganda works. How manipulation works.
may our education be stronger than fake news
To those who don’t get it:
“Dihydrogen monoxide” is the chemical name for water, AKA H2O.
another important element of understanding the joke is understanding how pH levels work
yup. that’s a higher number alright.
“Everyone who has ever touched or consumed this chemical has died”
People often look at the tags on my handmade goods and declare that my prices are outrageous. I did the math and THIS is what that handmade beanie you want for $10 ACTUALLY cost to make.
So if you see that $30 on the label, be courteous. Know that I am paying myself far, far less than minimum wage in labor ($2.22 per hour, to be exact) to even come to such a supposedly ghastly price. I can’t take that $10 for a hat because no one can live on $0.37 an hour, much less sustain a business.
Handmade goods aren’t overpriced, people just undervalue the hard work and years of skill artists put into them.
Honestly. This is exactly right. And if you’re fighting for 15 imagine what this would cost. Small businesses are not exempt
manufactured goods mass produced by horrendously exploited and underpaid workers have conditioned us to wildly undervalue handmade crafts
One hat per day? You’re a knitting fiend!!
Why must the internet hurt me like this? 😫 😫 😫
Reblog if you need a bookmark
So, I heard about this and I can’t find the original, but apparently this started because someone returned a book to a library with a taco in the middle of it.
This post was already perfect, but that origin story made it ascend to a new level
i found one in the book drop with a pair of child safety scissors acting as a bookmark.
5 with jily or any ship you feel comfortable writing with
Thank you @bluebirdlinginthenest :)
5. things you didn’t say at all
* * *
Lily took a deep breath. James hadn’t asked her out once this year. He hadn’t even flirted with her. It was understandable, Lily had been horrible to James for 5 and a half years. And then he got smart. Well, he’d always been smart, even more so than Lily on some occasions. But he grew up. It didn’t help that he’d also grown three inches, a tan and some muscle over the summer holidays. They became friends. Lily shook her head. That’s what they were. Just friends.
“Lily?” James was trying to get her attention, waving a hand in front of her face. This was horrid. He’d stopped paying attention to her and now she fancied him. Did that make her a horrible person? Did she really fancy him or did she just miss the attention? Lily smiled and moved her chess piece. They were alone in the gryffindor common room, what with it being three in the morning on a Wednesday. They did this too often, staying up late because neither of them could sleep. Doing homework or playing chess or lying by the fire and talking about nothing. They never talked about what Lily was dying to. Not the quick glances or brushes of hands or how close James got when there was a piece of fluff in Lily’s hair and how his breath hitched and how her breathing slowed. Lily snapped out of it. They didn’t talk about it because there was nothing to talk about. They were just friends now.
“Yeah?” she asked. James looked at her funny, his hazel eyes squinting.
“You okay?” he asked. Lily nodded. She was fine. Just fine. The fire next to them crackled, spitting small sparks into the air. Lily watched them disappear in a moment—one blink and they were gone. When she looked back to James, he was watching her, his gaze stuck. Lily blushed. “What?” Her voice was quiet, like she couldn’t help but whisper. That’s all she felt like she could do not to scare James. He didn’t look at her like this anymore. Like she was something to be admired. Like she was all that James wanted. Maybe that was selfish. Maybe she shouldn’t want to be looked at like that. But Lily was a freak. She was weird and awkward and… a mudblood. Maybe for once she just wanted someone to see past that.
They’d somehow moved closer within the few seconds that’d passed. Maybe they’d been a bit too close the whole night. Maybe Lily liked it. She looked up into the hazel eyes behind James’ glasses. They were still stuck on hers.
“James?” she prompted quietly.
“Yeah?” he whispered. A quick glance to the ground and Lily saw his hand trembling slightly. She couldn’t even hear the fire anymore. The entire world was silent for this moment right now. Everyone had turned away and they were alone, just them.
“What… what’s happening right now?” she asked carefully, like she didn’t want to startle James. He blinked and… he seemed to snap out of it. The trance, the mood, whatever spell Lily had just spun on him, it was gone. Because this wasn’t real. James leaned back and stuck his eyes on the chess board, calculating his next move. Lily hadn’t even blinked. She hoped that maybe if she didn’t, the moment would last forever. That spark would stay floating in the sky. Lily closed her eyes.
They were friends now. Just friends.
70′s teenage wizards are my favorite.
Summer of ‘75 at the Potter’s house, when Sirius was living with them, of course. I was inspired by this wonderful pictures here, provided by lovely @themischiefmanagers, whose fun videos I enjoy greatly.
I’m pretty proud of “The Hicky Punks” band poster. Get it? ‘Cause they’re magical and it’s England in the 70s? Get it?
Now, is Padfoot doing the crossword or reading a certain article?
when I was 11 or 12 I typed “am I gay quiz” into whatever search engine we used before Google
one of the questions was “what noise do you make during sex” and the only answer that didn’t make me flustered and embarasssed it contemplate was “I recite Shakespeare” so I picked that one and my decision haunts me to this day
Based on the song The Haunting by Set It Off
Remus could never sleep anymore. His mind wouldn’t let him. And even if it did, Remus still wouldn’t sleep, resigning himself to staring at the walls of a now empty room. There were too many memories encased in his dreams— In this house.
And it leads to too much thinking. Too many what if’s. But no amount of wondering would change the past. It was as inescapable as his lycanthropy, but even that let him forget the pain after it was over.
His closet was like a graveyard. Filled with memories that were packed away and shoved into corners. The remains of an old life always beckoning him— calling to him.
They were his own versions of skeletons in his closet. Although the secrets that were buried weren’t his own. They were someone else’s.
Remus pushes out of bed. There’s no use staring at an empty closet.
His bathroom isn’t a much better view. It’s as plain as everything else. Stripped of color and life the moment Sirius left. Packed into boxes like graves, off to join the rest of the skeletons in his closet.
He has to avoid mirrors now. Those are worse than the lack of sleep. The minute he catches a glance of his reflection he can’t stop staring.
It’s an eerie sight. He looks just as devoid of color as everything that surrounds him. Deep shadows blanketing his face. Lines that hadn’t been there before now etched across his brow and in the corners of his eyes.
He always felt like he was drowning, or worse buried alive. Always silently screaming for help and never being heard. When James and Lily had died he’d felt as if he’d been dropped into a town he’d never been to before. Someplace new that he’d never seen. And never would see from the confines of his coffin. And every time he cried out for help he always came to the slow and painful realization that in a ghost town, the dead can’t hear you scream.
He was blinded he always realized. Blinded by love. A love so deep it was like breathing. And the moment it was snatched away it was like the air had left his lungs.
That’s probably what haunted him the most. The knowledge that he’d been so head over heels that he hadn’t even noticed his true enemy. Not until the last moment.
And even now that love never truly died. It lives in his head and haunts his every fucking dream.
And in the minute he looks in a mirror, it seeps into the daytime too. Reminding him that even though everything he had with Sirius— that he thought he had with Sirius was a lie, he’d probably never find another person like him.
Someone who looked at Remus and didn’t see the scars first. Who didn’t ask prying questions and run when they got the answer.
Maybe that’s why he’d never suspected Sirius to be the traitor. Maybe he was afraid of the fact that he’d never find something, someone better.
So he stayed and hung onto everything that Sirius told him. Every kiss and touch and whispered promise. They left trails of fire in his mind. Bright and warm and wonderful. Fire that would eventually burn him alive.
He remembers the next full moon after Lily and James died. The wolf had been angry— destructive. And with no one there to watch him he couldn’t roam free. He was confined to his parents basement again. The wolf’s howl a sinister cry of blood lust.
Remus looks in the mirror, and everything he thought he’d see is there. The singular image of himself giving life to all of his fears and regrets. Even the shadows play along with them. Spinning an image of someone with long dark hair, whispering silent words into his ear.
And Remus can hear them. He knows exactly what they’re saying.
Maybe someday he’ll find a way to forget the past. The finally put to rest the ghosts of his memories. Find a way so that every thought doesn’t taste like poison. But not now. Not for the forseable future.
For now, Remus is content to listen to the whispers of the dark haired phantom.
No one will love you like I did
Will treat you like I did
So go on, wear that scarlet letter
No one will love you like I did
Will touch you like I did
So good luck finding something better
And if he’s being perfectly honest, he’s inclined to agree.
you give strong pink + orange vibes yes
hehe thank you :))
What did you do op?
Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you’ll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao
H L Mulberry and The White Bookbag.
N.B Oak, The Black Window
Not gonna specifically tag anyone…but reblog if you feel like it and put yours in the tags.
W.L. Cherrytree: The Beige Essays of Susan Sontag
Z. S. Pinetree: The Grey Pillow
A.S. Angeloak: the black book
G.L. Olive: the blue scrunchie
H.K. Ash, The Brown Door
R.C Sycamore, The black desk
A.H Birch, The White Mouse
M.K Willow, The Navy Blue Backpack
I’m neither adorable nor funny but I would 100% be the first to die in a horror movie I agree so much
The Marauders Series: Sirius Black
Wow there’s a lot to unpack here. I’m gonna post an explanation on my tiktok and YouTube with more detail. I wanted to combine his canon movie tattoos with some of my own. There’s the Canis Major constellation with the Sirius star and his wand. The Gryffindor tats are the crest and the flags. He also has the marauder’s map footprints, the Latin from the top of the map, all of their initials, and a moon for Lupin on his hip. The Phoenix is for the order, and the black dog tattoos on his chest are for his animagus. The rest are just badass.
Remus is on deck!