campus hall

Taking care of yourself during the school year!

If you’re in school you know how easy it is to forget about taking care of yourself. With deadlines, homework, projects and everything in between, it seems like there is very little time left to yourself! So, here are some of my tips for taking care of myself during the school year! 

(Disclaimer: This is aimed more towards college students but it’s easy to adapt to those in middle and high school. Also, obviously these things won’t work for everyone, so don’t beat yourself up if something doesn’t go the way it’s “supposed” to.)

  1. Leave water somewhere you can see it. It’s super easy to get dehydrated in general, so add in limited focus on anything other than school and bam, a recipe for disaster. To remedy this, try leaving a glass or bottle of water in view and every time you look up from studying and/or your eyes pass over the bottle, take a sip!
  2. Pre-pack healthy snacks. In-between classes it’s easy to stop at the campus store, dining hall or vending machine to resolve your hunger. However, often the options available are things like candy and potato chips. By packing healthy things in advance it saves you money and also saves you from the empty calories. (If you don’t have a dependable way to get fruit, etc. take some extra apples or bananas from the dining hall every time you leave and store them in your room!)
  3. Pre-plan out your outfit the night before. Pack your school bags too! That way you can sleep in a little longer and your morning is a little less stressful, because you won’t be scrambling to get everything together!
  4. Avoid hangovers. Drink a huge glass of water before you start drinking and before you go to bed, and make sure you eat a lot during the day. Not only do hangovers suck, but they also take away valuable study time!
  5. Go to the gym with a friend! Working out can suck, especially if you’re not used to it. So go to the gym with a friend! It keeps you motivated and can even make things fun!
  6. Take a multi-vitamin! Even if you never had to take one during high school, it’s easy to eat horribly/not enough, and getting your daily vitamins is really important!
  7. Don’t give up your morning/bedtime routine for anything. This one might sound a little dumb, but trust me. Skipping a face wash or shower might sound okay at the time, but when you start breaking out or feeling less than your best, you’ll see what I mean.
  8. Buy some Melatonin! Even if you don’t have sleeping problems, college takes away a lot of your sleep and has a lot of distractions that make it hard to fall asleep (ex: noises neighbors). Melatonin helps you fall asleep and sleep better, so even if you only get a few hours, it was a few hours of better quality sleep than it probably would have been. (Because Melatonin is a tablet, it’s important to read the warnings on the packaging and consult a doctor before taking it!)
  9. Buy earplugs. Trust me. They’re a miracle worker when you’re trying to go to sleep, stay asleep, or get some work done in a noisy/distracting place.
  10. Keep your surroundings sanitized. Wash your hands on a regular basis and disinfect your room (focus mores on the things you, your roommate and friends come in contact with a lot like light switches, door knobs, etc.). Carry a little pack of sanitary wipes or a thing of hand sanitizer with you in your backpack at all times. It may sound like I’m going overkill on all of this but the plague is real and consistent in college. You remember how in high school everyone would come back from school breaks sick? Well it’s the same way in college but 24/7. You’re going to be surrounded by people from all over the country (most likely) that come in contact with things you don’t, who will bring them back to school with them. Being sick during college is one of the worst things ever, so try to avoid it if you can!

There we have it! 10 tips on how to take care of yourself during the busy school year! Feel free to add something if you feel like it’s important and I left it out!

Passionfruit | 2

“To you, matters of the heart have always been simple. You’ve always lived by three rules: you don’t do emotions, you don’t do attachment, and you don’t do love. That is, until you meet the enigma that is Kim Namjoon- a man who shakes your entire world upside down.”

pairing: namjoon x reader
genre: smut
wordcount: 7.1k

part one | two | three

You were used to judgment.

It came in many shapes and forms. Men’s roaming gazes as you walked past. The way guys would leer at you, objectifying you with their stares and their wolf whistles. You were used to coming face to face with judgment. 

People made assumptions about you and always had. Guys you slept with always approached you and you knew they had seen you and made a snap judgment about who you were. Girls who saw you narrowed their eyes and protectively put a hand on their boyfriends knees when you walked past. People saw you and decided that they knew who you were, you didn’t have a say in the matter. In their eyes you were already the slut, the loose one, the messy one, and nothing you could say or do would change that judgment call.

So it had been a surprise when you had met Namjoon’s eyes last week and seen no judgment there.

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Day 12/100 of productivity

I went to my dream school and god it put me in such a good mood, I just hope I can get in!! It’s the St. George UofT campus and the dining hall was recreated from the one in Oxford that they used in the harry potter movies !! A girl can only wish.

the married life;

⇢ summary:  being married is never a bore when your husband is a vampire king + inspired by  “Stop calling me Princess!” “I apologize, my Queen.”.

⇢ relationship: min yoongi/reader.

genre: vampire!yoongi, supernatural, romance, fluff.

⇢ words: 11.3k (WHY)

⇢ warnings: mentions of blood/blood drinking of course, yoongi is bad at cooking, you being exasperated with your husband, implications of sex.

Originally posted by lethargicmin

a/n: something I started during halloween last year but never finished. happy birthday suga… I guess?

Your married friends had to deal with a lot of things; their husbands didn’t clean up after themselves, the sex was bad, or maybe they were too stubborn. And sure, you felt sorry for them, but you couldn’t exactly say you understood them either. If anything, the problems you had with Min Yoongi were… extraordinary. And the sex was never bad. But he was a little shit though.

From the moment that Min Yoongi had come into your life five years ago to now, there was nothing you could say you regretted. From the initial dislike, to the confusion, to the intrigue, to the fondness of friendship turning into something more, he had left you with something your friends could, unfortunately, never attest to: the feeling of a thousand years on his part of dormant love waiting for you that no one could ever ruin or one-up. How you got to this point, however, was quite the mirthful fairytale.

five years ago.

“You’re new here, right?

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Black and White - Chapter 9 (M)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Bad Boy AU // University AU // Fluff // Smut

Word Count: 6.2k words

Plot: Baekhyun is the typical heartthrob that always gets what he wants.. until you came along.

Black and White: Mini Masterlist

“My friends and I have really bad history with them,” Baekhyun told you. “It’s always been like that, for years even. Sehun got into a fight with one of them recently and there were a few bruises on both of them, yet none of their gang of twats did anything after that.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” you quizzed. “That they didn’t hurt Sehun or anything.”

Baekhyun chuckled.

“Nope,” he answered. “It’s strange.”


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>>>> Took advantage of campus being deserted for the Easter holiday by monopolizing one of the science building’s lecture halls with the roomie. Pros: surround sound system, giant windows, whiteboards galore 😻

Tonight: Grand Poetry Slam Finals!!!!

New Testament exam and World Cinema research paper this week!

4 weeks till I go home?!?!?!


Anon: College Klance, where Keith’s sick but he has a really important test in one of his classes so he goes to class anyway. Keith and Lance happen to have that class together, and normally Lance just tries to ignore the other boy, but the Keith waddles in wearing a big coat, scarf and a wool beanie. It’s like 80 degrees out, so he knows somethings off. Bonus: For Keith being light headed and having to be carried back to his dorm room. (PS Thank you for writing awesome fics)

A/N: So I heard you guys liked pining Lance. Cashing in the bonus, someone should draw Keith in winter gear with the scarf covering his face up to his bright-red nose.

Lance hadn’t noticed the boy before. He hadn’t noticed that mullet hair, or that red jacket, or that little glance they shared when the boy would walk in a minute before class started-

Okay, maybe he’d noticed. But that’s just because the guy sat in front of him in the lecture hall! How could he not look at the way his stupid hair turned up at the ends or the stupid way he twirled his stupid pencil with his stupid nice fingers-

Okay. Maybe he’d done more than notice. Maybe he’d put in some extra effort into trying to see the boy’s name on his test. Maybe he’d lost track of class while watching the boy lazily doodle on his notes. Maybe he’d seen ‘Keith Kogane’ on the list of packages at the front desk of his dorm hall and almost choked. Just maybe, though. Probably not. Definitely not.

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You met Sam at college. He was walking down the halls of campus, looking for his room. He accidentally knocked on yours.

“Uhm h-hi. Wow. You’re beautiful.” He breathed as you opened the door to face him. You assumed it was a door knocked or someone asking you to join another social club. “Sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry. Uhm. Are you my room mate?” Sam stuttered.

“Let’s see your room number.” You smile at him looking down at his sheet he held in his hand. “Ah 365. You’re a couple down. This is 355.” You tell him.

“Whoops.” He flushed red.

“It’s alright.” You tell him and he blinks. You take a glance at his time table. “Bachelor of Music and Arts, huh?” You shrug your shoulders.

“Yeah. I’ve been surround by music and acting and dancing all my life. I love it. I can play the piano, I actually got a music scholarship. I’m really good actually. Well I think I am. I mean, probably because of the scholarship.” He rambled. The brunette boys hair bounced at the top of his head.

“Wh-what are you studying?” He asked you. “Secondary teaching, majoring in physical health and education and humanities.” You tell him and he’s jaw drops.

“Cool. That’s awesome. More awesome than music. That’s so cool.” You smile grows as he speaks. “Oh I’m so sorry! I’m Sam.” He puts out his hand to shake, trying not to drop a couple of his books in his hands.

“(Y/N).” You tell him shaking his hands. “I suppose I’ll see you around huh?” You tell him letting go of his hand.

“Yeah.” He says fixing up his books in his hands. “Do you wanna get coffee some time?” He asks nervously. He hand shakes a little.

“I’d love that.” You tell him. “You can tell him more about that scholarship. I’d love to hear you play one day. Piano that is. You really talked yourself up so I’m expecting bing things from you-”



“Holland. That’s my last name. I assume you were going to say ‘I expect big things from you Holland’ but you didn’t know my last name so I finished your sentence for you.” He paused. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay Sam.” You smile at him. God he was already finishing your sentences. Your blushing shade of red left your cheeks and you waved goodbye to Sam. “Just knock when you want to get that coffee.” You tell him and he knocks on the spot next to you.

“How about now?” He smirks. God he was a charmer.

“Now is good.”


Afew months later, mid-semester break happened. Sam invited you to meet his parents whom you were really excited to meet. The drive from Campus to his home in Kingston was about a 45 minute drive, but Sam wanted it to go longer. You guys barely had any time together. Sam sang along to the radio. Naive by The Kooks was playing.

“Sam. Can you please pull over?” You ask him smiling.

“Are you going to be sick?” He asks worriedly. You shake your head.

“I want to bring your parents a present. Do they drink white or red wine?” You ask him.

“Dad drinks red and Mum drinks white.”

“Perfect I’ll get them a bottle each.” You smile as Sam parks the car. You were dressed in a white flowy dress that went down to your knees and had sunflowers on it. You wore straw strappy flats. Very Instagram worthy of you. You skipped into the supermarket and brought the two bottles of wine. You found a small market village, kind of like a farmers market where they were seeking fresh produce. “Sammmm. Please can we get some strawberries.” You smiled at him.

“Of course dear.” He says placing a peck of your head and paying for the punnets of berries you picked out. You posed in front of the stall with your berries, in your Insta-worthy outfit as Sam took a photo. He put it on Instagram and tagged you in it.

@/samholland1996: beautiful 😘 @/yourinstagram

You blushed when you saw the photo. “Sam, you’re such a cutie.” You poked his cheek and he wrapped his arms around you.

“I know.” He smirked and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We should get going. The boys will probably get there around four ish.” Sam spoke taking your hand and leading you back to the car. You placed your items on the floor of the car and flicked around on your phone. You looked back down at saw that both of his brothers had liked the photos already. That was fast.

“So you grew up here, yeah?” You spoke looking out the window.

“Yeah. Just up the road is where I learnt how to play piano.”

“Ah yes.” You smiled at him leaning back on the head rest. He brought his hand over to you and placed it in yours so he could drive with one hand. You instagram blew up with notifications.

@/tomholland2013: is she your girlfriend?

@/tomhollland2013: is she coming over for dinner tonight?

@/paddyholland2004: I like strawberries 🍓

@/harryholland64: if she’s not can I ask her out?

@/tomholland2013: @/harryholland64 why would she say yes to you when she can date me.

You rolled your eyes and locked your phone. You hadn’t even met these boys yet and they seemed liked a handful. Poor Nikki. Sam drove up his long drive way and opened the door. He pulled out a suitcase because he assumed that you two would just stay the night here or for a couple of days depending on how everything goes, instead of going back to your university campus. You waited at the front door with your gifts. Sam could tell you were a little nervous.

“Hey.” He smiled lifting up your chin. “I love you, yeah.”

“Yeah. I love you too.” You say taking a breath. Sam knocks on the door and then doors the lock and opens it.

“Mum! Dad! Paddy! I’m back.” Sam announced leading the way.

“About time! I was getting worried.”

“Sorry (Y/N) wanted to stop and buy some wine.”

“Shh Sam. Don’t blame it on me. You forgot to fill your tank up with petrol.” You giggle as Nikki comes over and greets you both. She hugs you, still with wine bottles in your hands and then takes them off you.

“Your father is outside cooking. He should be done soon.”

“Ooo I’ve heard about Dom’s famous steaks. I’m so excited to try them.” You smile following Sam around the house, looking in every direction. Awards hung above the fireplace. Family photos scattered in every direction. It was so neat. Not a spec of dust. Not that you would care, but you could imagine Nikki telling Paddy to clean own spot numerous times over. You smiled walking into the kitchen.

“Can I help with anything? Stir a salad or something?” You ask Nikki as she pours the wine.

“No thank you dear. Everything is done.” She passes you a glass. “You are old enough to drink aren’t you?” You nod and take her glass and clink it with hers. “So, Sam tells me you’re studying secondary teaching. That’s great.” “Yeah. I had some awesome teachers in high school, so if I could be like them, I’d be happy.” You say sipping on the semi expensive wine. You didn’t even realise Sam had left the room to get Paddy until he came back with him.

“Hi (Y/N) I’m Paddy. It’s nice to meet you.” You saw Paddy’s gaze turn to Sam and he gave him a thumbs up.

“Paddy, short for Patrick yeah? You brother tells me you can lift weights and back flip. Now I need to see that.” You exclaim to Paddy and he nodded.

“Watch.” He challenged.

“Not in the house Paddy! You know the rules.”

“But Tom-”

“Remember what happened to Tom?” Sam chuckled at Paddy, looking out for him.

“He broke Mums favourite vase.” Paddy mumbled remembering the memory from years ago, now they can’t do tricks in the house. Dom walked in with a tray of meat and some burger patties for dinner.

“You must be Sam’s girlfriend. Welcome, welcome.” Dom said placing the tray down on the table and coming over to greet you. He also hugged you. “It’s so nice to meet you.” He smiled. You were excepting some joke. “Good to see those magazines finally paid off huh son.” Dom winked at his son. I’m sure those magazines were sexual.

“Dad! Shut up.” Sam groaned. Yep that’s the joke. Sam pulled out a chair for you and you sat down as he sat down next to you. Nikki began asking heaps of questions about your family, where you grew up, how you met Sam, your first date, when he told you that he loved it. It was after your three month anniversary but Nikki told you that after your coffee date he called her and spoke non stop about you, which you thought was cute. Just as Dom began serving the drinks, two other boys came in.

“We’re back!”

“I’m home family!”

Sam placed a hand over the back of your chair and watched as his twin and brother walked into the room.

“Where’s Sam’s imaginary girlfriend?”

“Yeah we want to meet her. Make sure she’s right for our little Sam.”

“I’m older than you Harry.” Sam groaned. Okay so the red-haired boy must be Harry and the other one was Tom. He was shorter than Sam, you could tell. He strutted in and sat next to Nikki after placing a kiss on her cheek.

“How was your flight?”

“Long. It got delayed.” Tom spoke. “Can you pass the salt please…” he trailed pointing to you.

“(Y/N).” You tell him, referring to your name as you passed him the salt.

“Yeah, that chick from his Instagram.” he laughed and cut into his food. “I’m just messing with you.” Tom chuckled passing you the plate of bread rolls.

“So, (Y/N). What do you do at university?” Harry asked from the other end of the table. He obviously had missed your chat with Nikki.

“Oh, I uhm, I’m studying to be a secondary school teacher.” You tell him picking up some food with your fork. “I’m specialising in health and humanities.” You tell him picking at your food.

“Ah ha cool.” He said sipping on his drink. Weirdly enough, you were most nervous about meeting Harry and Tom. You had to live up to their expectations of you. You wondered what Sam had told them. “And you met Sam at campus?”

“Yeah. On our first day. He knocked on my door accidentally and I suppose we just hit it off.” You told Harry who was too busy chewing on his dinner to care. You took a deep breath, and sighed pouring some more water into your glass.


Dinner past, and Sam took you upstairs. Harry cat-whistled as you both walked past. “Sorry about him love.”

“He’s your brother. He’s just playing around.” You tell him as he opens up his bedroom.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He muttered which made you giggle. You sat on the edge of his bed. Running your hands up and down your thighs.

“They love you, I hope you know that. Mum can’t wait to have you around more. Just make sure you don’t let her drink as much as she did tonight.” Sam chuckled and you nodded.

“Yeah.” You say looking around the room. You spot the window and walk over to it.

“You can see all of Kingston from here. It’s wonderful really.” Sam said coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It’s dark.” You stated due to the cloud cover.

“Yeah, but it’s home.” He mumbles in your ear. “And now that you’re here.” Sam said and spun you around in his arms and you placed your hands on his chest. “It’s beginning to feel a lot more like home than this place ever has.” He smiled kissing your lips. You got up on your tippy toes and wrapped your hands around his neck.

“You’re a sweet talk, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, but you love it though.”

“I sure do.”

“And I love you beautiful.

Back to the Fire

Cinders was a transfer to Elsewhere University, a young upstart from somewhere he refused to disclose. He practically lived in the Engineering Hall, English Hall, and Campus Café, but it was easy enough to lure him outside for a talk with the promise of pastries. With a smile like the Cheshire Cat and a sense of humor straight from the gallows, he coyly danced around prying questions, turning them back at the asker in as little as a single sentence.

He clamored on about the stories he wrote, about his characters who all seemed to have a more vivid existence than his own. He knew them inside and out, could recite their family histories and backstories without a moment to look through the notebooks he carried around. He could name hundreds of landmarks in his fantasy world and explain their historical significance.

But he wouldn’t–couldn’t, it seemed at times–name his hometown.

He smirked at the questions, tapping his fingers on the table as if considering how to respond. His eight rings, all some combination of iron and silver, clicked on the wood in an awkward, stuttering rhythm.

“I remember salt. And storms. And an ocean past the breakwater, full of excitement and danger and the unknown. I remember the mermaid statues, decorating the street corners like peace offerings. But the name? My hometown is just as central to my identity as my first name. You’ll need more than a couple kolache to coax that out of me.”

Dime put her chin on her hands. She had heard from Cinders’ roommate that kolache was his favorite. If anything would get him to talk about his hometown, Hearth had insisted, that would be it.

There was a half-joking bet among the writing students Cinders told his stories to that he might be one of the Fair Folk. Dime knew better. They only knew the Cinders who wandered from the Campus Café to the English Hall, dazed and rambling about some aspect of his stories he’d been stalled on for weeks prior. She knew the Cinders who obsessively put his rings back on immediately after completing a mag particle test because he didn’t feel safe walking around, even in the Engineering Hall.

They didn’t know Cinders’ rings were silver and iron. They didn’t know that he wore jackets still coated in iron dust from his first mag class. They didn’t know he sewed a ring of iron jewelry chain into the lining of each of his hats.

Of course, that was because they never saw Cinders with his rings, jackets, or hats. Neither Dime nor Hearth knew why, but whenever Cinders went to the Café or to visit the writing students, he didn’t wear his protection.

“Cinders,” she started.

He cut her off with that Cheshire Cat smile and a flippant, “Did you make the kolache? Not bad, but I could give you my recipe.”

He was avoiding the question he knew was coming. Dime lifted her chin off her hands and tilted her head at him. The engineering and writing students both had questions about Cinders–questions they’d tried asking him before, only to have him talk in circles and turn it back on them. “You know what I’m going to ask. Just do us all a favor and answer this time, please.”

He sighed. He put his hands in his lap and shook his head slowly. “Do you know why I chose Cinders as my name for the University?” He waited for her to shake her head. A quiet, bitter laugh shook his frame. “Because I just can’t stop playing with fire, even after I get burned.”

Dime thought she understood what he was getting at. “You made a deal with Them, didn’t you?” Her voice was hushed, barely above a whisper. The Gentry heard everything; They would know if she addressed them improperly.

Cinders took off one of his rings, holding up at just the right angle for him to look through it. “Not so much a deal,” he sighed, “but a trade. A few, actually.” He put his hat on the table. The dull thunk from the sewn-in chain was a stark reminder of his paranoia. Even after all the precautions he took, he still prattled on about feeling unsafe walking from his dorm to the Engineering Hall.

“What did you trade?”

He put the ring back on, returning to the awkward, stuttering tapping.

“Cinders, what did you- Oh my god.”

“I needed inspiration, Dime. I couldn’t stand to have all these unconnected ideas in my head, all these stories that just wouldn’t go on paper no matter how hard I tried. It was torture. I couldn’t write stories, but I could tell them. I would sit around the English Hall after class, telling stories from my childhood to anyone who would listen, and I would notice some of the Fair Folk listening from the edge of the courtyard.”

Dime stared at him, understanding and horror dawning on her as he told the story of his first trade.

How he took his rings, jacket, and hat off and approached the Gentry at the Café with an offering of–what else–kolache. How he offered them a story just to listen to his request, and how when they accepted, he told them about the Woman of the Storm, a story he grew up with. How he bartered for inspiration and drive afterward, offering up the first few years of his childhood memories in exchange. How he ran back to his dorm in a haze, waking up the next morning with stories that finally made sense but a loss of interest in his oldest friends.

“They loved my stories.”

“Gamble nothing you cannot lose. You know this. Hearth told you; I told you! Why would you barter memories?” Her hands shook, curled into fists on the table, and she gritted her teeth. It made perfect sense now. Why he never went home for the holidays and breaks. Why he insisted on keeping so much secret. Why his stories and characters had more life than he did. Why he never wore iron around the English Hall anymore.

As an engineering major whose primary focus fell on metals like iron and low-carbon steel, he should have been safe from the Gentry. It hung in the air around him, dust from grinding and liquid from mag particle on his skin and clothes. As far as Dime knew, They would never take him, despite his stories.

But like a fool, he sought Them out. An offering and a story for an audience, memories for inspiration.

“The payoff seemed worth the price until I went home to family I no longer knew, a city whose name never stays with me, and friends I had to befriend again. All I had were my stories.” Cinders wasn’t looking at her anymore. He wrung his hands, eyes focused on the trees behind Dime. “I had played with fire, and I was burned. I came back here before break was over so I could have something familiar, but the inspiration went away again, so I made another trade.”

Dime got up. She couldn’t listen to him explain any more. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping at the tears welling in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

He let her go without a word.

It was weeks before she saw Cinders again in more than passing. He’d been seen telling stories to the writing students after classes, lurking around the Café during his lunch, and wandering the Engineering Hall, but even Hearth wasn’t sure what he’d been up to.

His eight rings were down to six, his jackets finally washed, and his hats nowhere to be seen.

She heard from a few of the writing students that his stories were more vibrant than ever, more detailed and full of life than he seemed to realize. She wondered if they understood the cost of Cinders’ creativity.

She saw Them, too. Listening to Cinders as he wove his tales, venturing closer and closer with each time she saw him. She feared for him. Music students came back most often, followed by the writing students, but Cinders was a wild card, an engineering student who just happened to be a storyteller.

Once, she ran up to him when she saw him stumbling away from the trees near the English Hall. She called his name four times before he heard, yet he didn’t seem to really see her.

“Cinders, it’s been a while, what have you been getting up to? Hearth and I-”

He cut her off with the same Cheshire Cat smile and flippant tone as he had all those weeks ago.

“I knew you once, didn’t I?”


My sophomore year a tornado touched down right outside of campus (and I should like to point out that it was the only time our tornado siren didn’t work). I don’t remember waking up, exactly. I remember that I was abruptly sitting bolt upright in bed, facing the window like “THAT WAS A TRAIN.”

My roommate and I were like “oh this is probably bad” and grabbed backpacks, keys etc to run down to the basement. My sister across the hall and her roommate were in a similar situation. Power was out, emergency lights made the hall super creepy.

Down the hall, our other hall-sisters peeked out like “Is that a tornado?”
And one girl was like “Siren didn’t go off. I have class tomorrow.”
“Me too.”
“I have homework.”
“I’m going back to bed.”
“But guys, I’m pretty sure that’s a tornado out there?”
“I don’t care.”

And that seems to sum up being a college student fairly well. The only thing that would’ve made it more fitting is if it had been during finals week.

letsboldlygomotherfuckers  asked:

I'm actually living for your pjo roommates au oh my god, please write more of it <3

Another frat house party. The music is too loud, and the beer is too warm, but Annabeth is dominating the beer pong table, and she’s never felt better.

Her partner is a statuesque girl she thinks she’s seen sitting at the back of Dean Chiron’s campus Town Hall meetings. She introduces herself as Reyna. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, and she’s wearing a ripped black shirt, and every time Annabeth sinks another ball, she almost smiles.

They blow through a few pairs of challengers, and decimate them like clockwork. Loud bass beats through the stuffy rooms of the house, and someone hooks up a strobe light on the fireplace mantle that adds an actual element of challenge to the game. It’s a dizzying few minutes, trying to focus on the targets and not the flashing stutter of the world around her, and by the time someone gets fed up and yanks the plug out of the wall, she’s blinking back stars.

That’s when Reyna nudges her shoulder and nods towards the open back doors. Piper is weaving her way through the crowd. There’s a huge red stain across her–well, her everything. It looks like someone dumped a cup of tub juice on her; it’s on her shirt, and her jeans, and still dripping wet down her arms. It’s almost as red as her face.

She looks furious.

“I need you,” she says without preamble, grabbing Annabeth’s arm and tugging her away from the pong table.

Annabeth goes freely. She has to shout as they pass by the ridiculous stereo setup. “What is it? Why are you covered in tub juice?”

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anonymous asked:

as far as the school motto changing, i feel like it would change depending on what students should be aware of/wary of during a day, week, season, or what have you. if the motto on the crest over the oldest hall on campus has been Cauti, Cordati, Auspicati for a month, you're probably fine. as soon as it changes to Blood and Bones Blood and Bones Blood and Bones, the cannier and older students take cover. something might be hunting.

Imagine the moment you look up and see it has changed. Imagine the silence that falls around you.

My not so secret boyfriend-Shiro Ship Week Day 7

Last day! I really like this one because the prompt I used was really funny. I hope I didn’t make the others look like assholes too much. Anyway enjoy the shance, and remember, season 3 is in 2 days.
Free Day

Lance laughed at what his boyfriend had said. He could see his roommate Keith looking at him, so he decided to cut the conversation short.

“Hey babe, I got back to my room. Can I talk to you later?…ok, talk to you soon. Love you, bye.”

“Oh no, don’t hang up on my account. Please continue talking to your pretend boyfriend.”

Lance sighed and rolled his eyes. None of his friends seemed to believe he had a boyfriend and defiantly not the one he was describing. Shiro was a 6’3, drop dead gorgeous model of a man, with arms large enough to crush a watermelon. But because of the lack of pictures or proof, his friends didn’t believe he existed. It wasn’t his fault that Shiro didn’t use the most obvious platform of Facebook and his Instagram was private and his Twitter was in Hiragana. All the pictures they had, were either at home or Shiro had them. Lance had always been a bit private about his relationship - surprising given his flirty nature - so he didn’t want to bring pictures he could just pull up on his phone or computer.

When his friends had asked if he had a girlfriend or boyfriend, he told them about Shiro but none of them believed Lance could land a guy like that.

“What, you think I can’t get a hot guy?”

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On Statues and Memories -- An Open Letter to Donald Trump

So it turns out I’m a Civil War buff.

I came by it honestly: my parents met at Gettysburg College. My father lived in a residence hall on campus that was used as a hospital during the battle. My only grandmother lived in Gettysburg for most of my childhood and early adult life, and between family reunions and family trips to visit to her, I have wandered that battlefield many, many times. And many others as well.

But my interest in the Civil Way grew on a different vine as well. I grew up in North Carolina during the era of bussing and integration. (Long time readers know that, on the basis of Swann v Charlotte, I was bussed for racial integration from the second grade to the twelfth.) In other words, I grew up in the South when the “lost cause” and “evil Yankees” and “states’ rights not slavery” narratives were in full swing, accepted as mantra by most people – or at least most white people.

But not me. I always found them bullshit. Maybe that’s because while I grew up in North Carolina, my family is not from there. My father grew up in Pennsylvania and Ohio, and while my mother grew up in Arlington, VA (on Lee Street, for that matter! And attended racially segregated Lee High School. Then again, my father’s Ohio schools were fully segregated as well.)  Maybe it’s because I was (am?) a curmudgeon and a contrarian. 

But whatever the reason, I didn’t buy the lost cause, or the states’ rights arguments (states’ rights to do what? Oh, yeah: legalize slavery.), or any of the other explanations Southerners offered to justify their secession. Those arguments were, and are, naked rationalizations of white racial dominance through the economic, political, and physical exploitation of people of African heritage.

However, my having rejected the rationalizations spewed at me never stopped me from remembering. From learning. From growing

You see, you don’t need commemorative statues honoring traitors and losers to REMEMBER and LEARN what they did and why they did it. (Notably, I’m less bothered than some by the statues in battlefields: they are markers and guides to who did what where and when; they enhance understanding.) You especially don’t need statues like the one in Charlottesville (and lots of other places) when the purpose for which they were erected was and is a distortion of historical truth: that an elite of Southern slave holding men led half the country into a rebellion they were awfully likely to lose, and one that was against the interests of vast numbers of their citizens – much less the citizens of the nation at large.

Statues like the ones in Charlottesville and Richmond and a thousand other places distort the truth, and so disrupt memory. They undermine learning. They actually prevent knowledge.

So, President Trump, taking down a statue in Charlottesville (or anywhere else) does not destroy culture or memory or the search for truth. It enhances it.

If I thought you were the kind or person who could understand this message, well, I’d be a lot more optimistic about your presidency than I am. But we both know you aren’t. Which is probably why you like all those giant statue-like portraits of yourself – or, of yourself as you fantasize you are.