con roommates

taking a moment to pimp out amazing creators in this fandom like:


like wowza– you guys are so fab and your art and writing are SO inspiring! I adore seeing your works pop up in the tags and I might somewhat stalk your blogs.

if you’re not following these fab folks– give em some love!

Some More Con Roommate Etiquette

I had a lot of trouble with con roommates for Ahn!Con that it got to the point I made an etiquette post about it. I also had some issues with Naka although it was nowhere near as bad. Still, here’s some more tips.

  • Don’t ask to room with someone until you’re absolutely sure you’re attending said con. I don’t want to be saving a space for someone who is going to later decide not to attend the con.
  • Give the person plenty of notice. I got messages from people looking to room with me 2 days before the con. I can’t make accommodations for you on such short notice.
  • Know how hotels work. I had a person call me a scammer because I couldn’t tell her the room number. Hotels don’t give you that information until you check in.
  • When you want more information, tell the person exactly what information you want. Don’t just say “I need more info.”
  • Don’t be offended if someone requires you to pay before the con. When rooming with a stranger, the person can’t just take your word for it. They need to know they will receive the money. 

justanotherpurplebutterfly  asked:

Hey!! For the two part drabble challenge, could you write a Prinxiety Roommates AU with sentence 27?

Sure thing!

Night Owls

Fandom: Sanders Sides
Pairings: Prinxiety
Warnings: None

Summary: Virgil’s just trying to study, but Roman’s bored and in need of distractions. [Sentence 27: “Sorry.  You’re just… really adorable.”]

Tagged: @existental-crises @jordisama @here-to-vent

“Hey, check out this post.”  Roman said, tossing his phone at Virgil from across the room.  It hit him in the shoulder before bouncing onto his bed.

“Dude, I’ve told you a zillion times,” he started, rolling onto his side to glare at his roommate, “I’m trying to study.  I can’t focus when you keep throwing memes at me.”  Roman huffed, but perked up a little when Virgil begrudgingly read the post.

They’d been at this for hours and it was nearing one o’clock in the morning.  Virgil insisted he wasn’t going to stay up until the devil’s hour again, but Roman knew that wasn’t true.  On the plus side, Roman didn’t have anywhere to be until two the next day, so he had no problem staying up with his roommate whether Virgil wanted the company or not.  Roman was currently lounging at his desk, fairy lights twinkling around his dozens of posters ranging from plays and musicals to fanart he’d bought at Comic-Con.  His roommate, to contrast, was lying on his stomach in the center of his bed with a couple papers strewn around his sheets and his laptop shining in front of him.  This was a typical Wednesday night for the two of them and they’d definitely passed the initial awkward roommate phase last year as freshman.

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Some very bad selfies of me trying on my 80s fashion Magneto, sans helmet…I don’t have a full length mirror so you only get the head and shoulders area for now

// Jason as your Roommate


  • ➖ He will jump into your bed so you will fly in the air. Or kicks you out. Or pokes you.
  • ➖ He will rummage through your things while you’re asleep.
  • ➖ He will use you as a pillow.
  • ➖ Whatever snacks you’re hiding, he will find them.
  • ➖ He will randomly appear in the middle of the night in your bedroom to borrow something.
    You will never see it again.
  • ➖ He will clean up after you, so when you miss some important papers they’re probably in the trash.
  • ➖ He will complain a lot.
  • ➖ He will throw a wet washcloth on your face to wake you up.
  • ➖ Tim Drake isn’t the only one in the family who has stalker abilities.
  • ➖ He is not a morning person. Every attempt to talk to him when he didn’t get up on his own [aka load neighbors, the phone], and before he ended his first cup of coffee is suicidal.
    Don’t be load around him in a time span of half a hour after he woke up.
  • ➖ He will probably punch you when you startle him. Or worse.
  • ➖ Death treats all day long.
  • ➖ He will fight you for the tv remote.
  • ➖ Mood swings.
  • ➖ He will curse a lot.
  • ➖ He will randomly cuddle you and than treats you with pain should you tell everyone about it.
  • ➖ Doesn’t listen / or will do the opposite.
  • ➖ He will smoke sometimes.
  • ➖ He will use all the hot water.


  • ➕ He can cook.
  • ➕ He will clean up after you.
  • ➕ He will make sure that no burglar will ever get something from you.
  • ➕ He will run around shirtless 80% of the time
  • ➕ He will help you when you have a problem (on your own risk; his default answer is “get rid of the problem” = kill it)
  • ➕ He is good with money.
  • ➕ When you get harassed / bothered, he will probably play your boyfriend / big brother / hot friend to have a reason to punch them in the face.
  • ➕ He is adorable & grumpy when tired.
  • ➕ He can drive / owns a motorcycle. He will probably steal a car when you need a ride.
  • ➕ He will pay his & your rent in time, even when you forgot about it
  • ➕ He will sometimes went missing for days / don’t get out of his room so you have the whole apartment on your own.
  • ➕ He will be nicest and sweetest roommate when your parents visit. You will think he has a good twin.
  • ➕ He will remember your Birthday, but will gladly skip his own.
  • ➕ He will play petsitter when you go on a journey. (Own risk, he will spoil them).

anonymous asked:

Hi! What are your thoughts on not having a roommate (sharing a room) in college, especially freshman year? I'm thinking of getting a single dorm next year because I'm really worried about not having my own space, but everyone I talk to seem to think I won't make any friends. What are the pros/cons of having a roommate vs. not?

Hey! If you can afford it, I think having your own space is a-okay. However, I did have a roommate my freshman year, and most of the people I know did. This was a great experience for the sole reason that it informed me that I did NOT want to have a roommate ever again. Having a roommate won’t guarantee you’ll make friends, because in most situations, your roommate doesn’t end up being your best friend.

Will your single room be in a hallway with a lot of other rooms, or a suite? A great way to make more friends even if you live in a single is keep your door open some of the time if you’re just chilling or studying (if other people do that, not sure if that’s a thing at your school) so that you can chat with people and friends as they walk down the hallways.

Go to events hosted by your residence hall! Single room or not, other students will be there and it’s a great way to connect. You’ll probably make more friends in your classes than your dorms, anyway, so invite friends over to study, set up study groups, or hang out where other students hang out, like coffee shops or student union centers. Joining clubs is a fantastic way to meet people with common interests, too!

Here are some general pros/cons of living with a roommate:


  • saving money
  • get to work on your people skills?
  • practice for when you might end up living with a significant other and have to share your space???
  • might make more friends
  • great if you’re extroverted
  • someone to commiserate with
  • someone to help you with random things like killing bugs, reaching tall things, fixing appliances


  • lack of your own space
  • you might not get along at all
  • have to deal with someone else’s sleeping schedule, party schedule, music preferences, hygiene….

I hope this doesn’t sound too negative! I’ve had some bad experiences, but anyone who has had good experiences, feel free to weigh in!– Mimi

II. Hombre De Gym

Para ver la lista completa de capítulos, haz click aquí.

No tenía ninguna motivación real. No es que quisiera tener calugas o bajar la guata. Había regresado hace unas semanas del trabajo que me conseguí en el Imperio Latinogringoense, en Gringolandia, y en cuanto pisé Chile me di cuenta de que iba a tener demasiado tiempo libre antes de encontrar una nueva pega en mi querida patria. Además, como buena santiaguina pobre promedio, no iba a salir de vacaciones ese año.

El calor estaba pegando fuerte y estar encerrado en la casa sin hacer nada productivo no me hacía gracia. Me estaba asfixiando y comenzaba a dudar de que mis tips para sobrevivir a un verano en Santiago cuando eres pobre siguieran funcionando. Iban más menos así:


a) Ve las temporadas/capítulos que te faltan de Orange Is The New Black, Sense8, House of Cards y Shingeki No Kyojin.

b) Juega Pokémon en tu Nintendo 3DS y eleva todos tus pokes al nivel 100, full pokerus, full EVs. Si eres dura, también full IVs.

c) Almuerza mientras ves Amanda / Paramparça / Lo que callamos las mujeres. Luego tómate un té. (Opcional: vuelve a almorzar si es que la teleserie aún no acaba).


d) Mira porno (pero con un ventilador prendido cerca).

d’) Mira las películas porno que aún no has visto de Rocco Steele.

I got daddy issues. 

e) Anda a pasear al Costanera Center para sentir el aire acondicionado (muy importante: no debes comprar nada, sólo vas por el fresco).

f) Busca guachos por Grindr.

f’) Pon en tus requerimientos que buscas a alguien que tenga aire acondicionado en su casa. O piscina.

g) Acude “al lugar” del guacho para que luego él te rechace porque no te pareces tanto al de las fotos (que en realidad eres tú mismo, pero cuando eras regio).

h) Siéntete mal y piensa en tus exs: desea de todo corazón que ellos estén peor que tú.

i) Psicopatea a tus exs en Facebook/Instagram/Twitter/Snapchat para asegurarte de que estén más destruidos que tú. Si eres full psyco, puedes agregar Google+ y LinkedIn.

i’) Si descubres que tus exs tienen fotos estupendas en la playa, llenos de calugas y rodeado de guachones que de seguro se está tirando, pasa a “jx1”. Si no, pasa a n).

jx1) Si se da el caso de que tú estás más destruida que tus exs, reconsidera los tips que estás siguiendo para sobrevivir a un verano cuando eres pobre.

k) Piensa en la idea de cuidar tu cuerpo y de que viene el día de San Valentín (importante: nunca has pasado un San Valentín con alguien).

l) Date cuenta de que necesitas hacer algo con tu vida antes de que la vida haga algo contigo.

m) Métete a un gimnasio.

n) Si tus exs están más destruidos que tú, siéntete bien brevemente, hasta que recuerdes que el guacho de Grindr te acaba de rechazar porque no eras igual al de las fotos.

ñ) Piensa en la idea de cuidar tu cuerpo y de que se viene San Valentín. Quizá sea divertido volver a pasar un San Valentín acompañado.

o) Date cuenta de que necesitas hacer algo con tu vida antes de que la vida haga algo contigo.

p) Estos tips valen mierda. No los sigas.

Los primeros días en el gimnasio fueron horribles. Con suerte lograba hacer 15 minutos de bicicleta cuando el soponcio ya me empezaba a atormentar, cual señora. Y es que en el Imperio Latinogringoense sólo trabajaba como latina esclava y no hacía nada de deporte: pasaba sentado todo el día y comía pura comida chatarra porque era lo más barato y maldita pobreza, al igual que mis colegas de allá. En la casa el panorama no era muy distinto: con mi roommate con suerte sabíamos hacer un huevo frito.

Hacer ejercicio me aburría. Nunca me gustó, así que me enchufaba los audífonos con Lady Gaga y trataba de cantar todas las canciones para hacer que el tiempo pasara más rápido y así evadir la sensación de que el corazón se me iba a salir por la garganta. Pasé varios días pensando que no duraría más de un mes en ese paraíso de musculines, que mi estadía sería totalmente absurda, sin sentido, sin emociones y, por supuesto, sin dramas sustanciales. Pero me equivoqué.

Ojalá todo hubiera salido bien si sólo hubiera seguido bailando.

Al principio no cachaba, después tuve mis sospechas y luego… bueno, después ya fue evidente. El sujeto me miraba caleta, y cuando yo le devolvía la mirada, sacaba su celular de los bolsillos y escondía la vista en él. Yo ahí me reía y me hacía la bonita –aunque no sea bonita, porque en el amor todo se trata de actitud–.

¿Que qué me llamaba la atención de él? Lo físico, obvio. Es súper alto. Mide como un metro noventa, y encontrar a alguien más alto que yo ya es difícil. Pero creo que no era sólo eso. También tenía algo en esa cara blanquita, en esos ojitos dormilones que resaltaban con el jopo que se le hacía en su pelo negro. No sé. Había un “algo” que, por alguna razón, se me hacía muy familiar.

Pasó como una semana antes de que cruzáramos palabra. Él llegó a una máquina donde estaba yo y me pidió si nos podíamos ir turnando. Esa vez no pude seguir la conversación. Me ahueoné, me dio vergüenza. Me acuerdo que en la mañana Pedro Engel había hecho un especial del amor en el Bienvenidos. Había dicho que la cosa era ir de a pasitos: que primero uno daba uno, después el otro tenía que dar otro un poquito más largo, después el otro y así. ¿Ha cachado que Pedrito podría decir cualquier hueá y, por más tonta que sea, igual suena como “mágico”? Tiene algo especial ese ser.

Los joteos de miradas siguieron por días. También hacíamos contacto visual en los camarines. Lo vi desnudo, vi su pirula… una súper pirula, en realidad. Dios la bendiga… ¿al ojo serán unos 21 cm? Perdón, supongo que esos detalles no le importan.

Supuse que la cosa ya era obvia y que no podía ignorar los dichos del gran Pedro Engel. Ese huevito quería sal, y si un huevo pide sal, ¿quién es uno para no ponérsela? Así que esta vez fui yo el que se acercó donde estaba él. “Hola, ¿cómo estái? ¿Podemos compartir?”. “Sí, obvio”. Empezamos a hablar de la vida y ahí fue cuando supe que éramos colegas, que él también escribía, que ahora estaba trabajando en una cosa del Gobierno y que le gustaba jugar Pokémon Go.

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Tuvimos buena onda al toque. Descubrimos que a los dos nos gustaba la política y no nos costó alargar la conversación por un buen rato. Ahora, no le miento… a veces igual pensaba que Hombre De Gym quería sólo sexo –en mi vida creo que he culeado como dos veces en un gimnasio, y fue cuando era chica, rebelde, cola mala–. Pero ahora yo estaba en una parada de “no más sexo express”. Los encuentros casuales ya no me estaban llamando la atención como antaño. Aunque, claro… si se hubiera dado la oportunidad, no le habría hecho el asco tampoco.

A la salida del gimnasio conversamos unos minutos más y terminamos intercambiando whatsapps. La excusa era que como él trabajaba en el Gobierno, podía servirme como un contacto en caso de cualquier cosa. Ya sabe, por mi pega. Nos despedimos de un típico –y heteronormado– apretón de manos y me fui caminando a mi hogar, con una leve sonrisa por haber conseguido el celular del macho. Cuando llegué, mi hermana me estaba esperando con la cena lista. Comí y después caí muerto en la cama, pero antes de cerrar los ojos, sapié la foto de perfil que Hombre De Gym tenía puesta en su Whatsapp. Obvio que se veía full mino. La miré un rato y después me quedé raja.

Al día siguiente, y como todas las mañanas al despertar, revisé mi agenda:

Notificaciones de Grindr: 0.
Matches nuevos en Tinder: 0.
Solicitudes de amistad en Facebook: 1 (mujer).
Mensajes de texto: 2 (spam de la compañía telefónica).
Whatsapps no leídos: 1.

“¿Por qué no me hablas?”

HDG había dado el primer paso.



Pros of being Baz’s roommate:

1. He helps me with French

2. He buys me coffee

3. He has a really nice voice. One meant for reading poetry.

4. He’s really pretty.


Cons of being Baz’s roommate:

1. He’s REALLY pretty

2. Sometimes I think he hates me, but then he does nice things.

3. Always calls me Snow?

4. Probably plotting.


Pros of being Snow’s roommate:

1. There are none


Cons of being Snow’s roommate:

1. He snores louder than anyone I’ve ever heard.

2. He’s stupidly adorable (even if he does look like a stereotypical hipster with those dumb glasses).

3. Painfully oblivious.

4. I think I’m in love with him.


“I’m never going to learn this shit,” Simon muttered. He pulled his glasses off and dragged a hand down his face. Passé composé was confusing, and Baz’s smug superiority wasn’t helping him learn it any faster.

“You aren’t going to learn it with that attitude, Snow.”

“I need coffee.”

“You always need coffee.”

Simon flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. He wished he would’ve gotten his foreign language credit in high school. It was hard focusing on film when he was constantly buried under a mound of French homework.

“Are you actually pouting?”

“I need coffee,” Simon answered weakly.

“Then get your shoes on and let’s go.”

[8:30pm] u wanna meet me and spazilton 4 coffee @ the cafe near the campus courtyard?

[Penny, 8:32pm] I’d rather not get in the way of your guys’ sexual tension.


When Baz got got back to the table, a cup of hot coffee in each hand, Simon was blushing madly at his phone.

Baz felt a jealous pang when he imagined Simon talking to his girlfriend (or boyfriend, the topic of his sexuality had never come up).

I’ll never make Snow blush like that.


Fucking Penelope Bunce.


“Here,” Baz said gruffly, holding Simon’s coffee out to him as he took a seat.


The universe hated him, Baz decided. For some unknown reason, it absolutely loathed him. Here was this cute golden boy with bright smiles and even brighter eyes, and he was fucking untouchable.


“So,” Baz replied in bored tone.

Simon’s fingers were drumming nervously against the table. “Campus at night, huh?”

“Yeah, Snow, it’s dark.”

“The lights are nice.” Simon lifted his coffee to his lips and took a long drink.

Baz snorted. “What do you want to do, take a walk?”

Simon smiled sheepishly, then nodded. “Better than French homework.”

Everything you DO NOT WANT in a con roommate

So this happened last year. it was at a PNW convention. I know I shouldn’t still be dwelling on this but when you experience the things i have and STILL have to deal with her making fake accounts just to contact me/ Yeah I’m still gonna be salty about it! the Phrase “it gets worse” will happen A LOT

At the time, my online friend was gonna spend the con weekend with me, my girlfriend, and her best friend.

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thecuriousinquisitor  asked:

Sup! For the ask meme, pros and cons to having your apprentice (apprentices?) as a roommate?



She’s in a constant state of overactive. Like she’s at a 20 at all times. At night it’s the worst cause it could be 3am and you have important shit to do and she’s knocking on your door wanting to tell you about her nightly existential crisis. 

Pros: She cooks. A lot. Girl will back you into next week. She’s also super nice and always rent on time.



Since she is literally a joke Appertiance made to mimic Jesse McCree from overwatch she can be a pain. Need to heat something in the oven or whatever for 12 minutes well it’s HIGH NOON then. Cowboy movies and waking up to her screaming that midnight. She also smokes.


She loves playing videogames and will take you horseback riding. She might be a horrible cowgirl wannabe, but she’s really fun to be around and tries her hardest to keep the atmosphere from getting too heavy. Also she’s got a horse what’s better than that??



Mmmmmm. Girl is literally a demon goddess thing. Her only true cons is sort of being ignorant of human things. Personal space mainly. She’s a very huggy persona and tend s to just walk in without asking. She has no true intentions to annoy but it can be very annoying. She can learn tho.


She can carry you everywhere. She has no sense of human societial expections things so she won’t judge you. Like miss her with that societial expections shit. What’s that? Oh! You wanna check out a dimension full of cats? She can do take you there.

Bewilder | Part One: A

Title: Bewilder

Rating: High T (for language and future suggestive situations) (rating subject to change)

Summary: “Keith and I are getting married,” Lance blurts suddenly, slamming his hands down on the tabletop and inadvertently flashing the ring on his finger. The table falls silent. His mother spills red wine across the white tablecloth. Keith chokes on the roll he had just placed in his mouth. “You’re what?” Uncle Eduardo gasps, mouth falling open in utter bewilderment. “We’re what?” Keith wheezes, eyes wide. Lance kicks him under the table.

Life is full of surprises.

Word count: 9649 

Keith stares back at Lance, an utterly bewildered look on his face as his expression twists up in an odd combination of confusion and exasperation—his Lance face, as Hunk likes to call it. Keith isn’t sure why they need a special name for it, but he supposes it must be helpful for everyone else to immediately know when their roommate is being a total dumbass just by the expression on Keith’s face. Granted, Lance hasn’t really done anything too horrible this time given his lengthy track-record of bad decisions. Keith would consider this to be a four—maybe a five on a scale of “locked everyone out of the apartment during the middle of winter” to “what happened in Cancun.”

God, he needs a nap. It’s too late to be dealing with this now.

Squeezing his eyes shut briefly, Keith silently prays that this is just some horrible misunderstanding and not, in fact, what he thinks it is. “I’m sorry, what?” he replies blankly, merely blinking at his roommate in shock, unable to process what the other man just asked him.

Lance sends him a megawatt smile and Keith kind of wants to rip it off his face. Only a little. “I want you,” Lance repeats slowly, pointing his fingers at Keith from where he’s sitting cross-legged on top of the washing machine, “to pretend to be my boyfriend and come home with me for the holidays so that I don’t look like a idiot in front of my family!” The last part comes out in a rush, Lance not pausing to breathe as he once again explains his ridiculous plan.

Dammit, all he wanted to do was wash his sweater, not deal with whatever this is.

“Oh,” Keith responds after another beat, shifting the laundry basket in his arms as Lance continues to twiddle his thumbs and not get off the washing machine. “No,” Keith tells him, shrugging one shoulder and silently debating the pros and cons of shoving his roommate off the machine.

On one hand, he would probably get his laundry done before going to sleep for the night. Which would be super nice because his favorite sleeping shirt is dirty at the moment. On the other, it might start an all out war in the laundry room and Keith doesn’t think he can deal with cleaning up that much laundry detergent again. Hunk was pretty mad when it happened the last time and it’s not really fair for him to be dragged into a petty fight because Lance won’t get his fat ass off the washing machine dammit.

Lance’s expression slackens, the smile practically melting off his face in a matter of seconds. “No?” he echoes, sputtering slightly as he gapes at Keith, mouth dropped open in utter shock.

Keith sighs, eyes rolling as Lance continues to gawk at him. Because it’s so confusing that Keith wants nothing to do with lying to a bunch of strangers, apparently. “Yes,” Keith drawls, shifting the laundry basket to his hip and glancing at the clock on the far wall. Ten thirty. He might be able to get his laundry done yet.

Lance squints back, perplexed. His lips press into a thin line, his head cocking to the side in confusion the way it always does when something goes over his head. For a long moment he says nothing, simply peers at Keith with narrowed eyes and a slight frown. “I’m getting mixed signals here,” he finally says, a hint of mirth in his voice.

Keith sighs, shaking his head. All he wanted to do wash his clothes. Why is that so damn hard? Giving up, Keith stalks towards Lance and shoves him from atop the washing machine to the dryer next to it, eliciting a hiss from the aforementioned male, who swats at him in return. Keith ignores him, for once, and simply opens the machine. “No, Lance, I will not pretend to date you over the holidays,” Keith clarifies snarkily, dumping his clothes into the washer.

Lance huffs from beside him, glaring at Keith as he reaches for a bottle of laundry detergent, because apparently it’s a crime to do laundry now. “Why not?” Lance asks—he doesn’t whine, no, Lance never whines.

If Keith keeps rolling his eyes like this, they’re going to fall right out of his head.

He caps the detergent a little bit harder than he needed to before placing the bottle back on the shelf, then grabs the fabric softener. “Because A) I already have plans—” Keith starts, only to be cut off by a snort from Lance.

“No you don’t,” Lance argues, crossing his arms and leveling Keith with the most obnoxious look he’s ever seen. “You were just going to sit at home and watch shitty Christmas movies by yourself,” he snaps, rolling his eyes back at Keith.

Keith ignores him. “B) these types of situations never end well in movies.”

Lance scoffs. “Actually in movies they end very well,” he corrects Keith. Yeah, well. that certainly depends on one’s definition of “well.” Keith doesn’t exactly want his life to play out like some romantic comedy cliché. First of all, that’s sappy. Second of all, that’s unrealistic. And third, it seems like it comes with a lot more drama than necessary, and Keith has had more than a lifetime of drama already. He doesn’t need more.

“And C),” Keith stresses loudly, sending Lance a pointed look, “I have to deal with you every single day already,” he reminds Lance, nearly slamming the washing machine closed in frustration, “why the hell would I want to spend time with you during my vacation?” he asks, sending another look Lance’s way, one eyebrow raised in question.

And if he really wanted to spend more time with Lance, of all people—which he doesn’t—it wouldn’t be during Christmas vacation. It also wouldn’t be to meet Lance’s entire extended family and trick them into thinking they’re a couple. Which is frankly the stupidest idea Lance has ever had, hands down. Even more so than the time Lance tried to shovel the apartment’s sidewalk with a broom.

Four hours, a destroyed broom, and a decisively grumpy Lance later and the sidewalk was clear of snow for all of a half-hour before a storm rolled in.

Lance gasps, sending Keith the most offended look he has ever seen before in his life and placing a hand on his heart. “That’s hurtful, Keith,” Lance complains, dark eyes wide and pleading, like a puppy that’s just been kicked. “I thought our relationship was really going somewhere!” Keith makes a face at that, and Lance huffs, hurt façade dropping as he crosses his arms once more. “Oh come on!” he barks, throwing his hands up in the air as Keith continues to ignore him. “You could go to Cuba,” Lance tells him, “have a nice time on the beach, soak up the sun!”

Keith sends Lance an utterly unimpressed look, one eyebrow quirked up as he frowns. “I don’t like the sun,” he reminds Lance, “or gross hot weather.” Or sand, the ocean, and tourists crammed onto a beach in a desperate attempt to get a shitty tan. Yeah, that’s kind of why he’s going to school in Washington state, with it’s nasty rainy weather and shitty snowstorms nine months out of the year. Besides, there are beaches in Washington! Cold, icy beaches, but beaches!

Frankly, he just doesn’t like getting sand in places sand shouldn’t be. Is that a crime?

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Little Things, 20

~1000 words a day. Unbeta’d. Ten/Rose. College/Uni/Roommates AU. Previous chapters here. A/N: this is the last update until after the weekend, sorry - I have a bunch of birthday-related plans and won’t have time to write!

There was very little warning before it happened. He had no idea what was about to take place, or how long it would go on, or anything at all, really - because his mind had become a roaring blank.

Rose Tyler - his housemate, his friend, his pretend girlfriend - had put her mouth to his. On his. Their mouths were touching, definitely touching, in a way that was neither accidental or casual - she was, in fact, being very aggressive about it. She bit his lower lip, he yelped, and then-

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A Bit of Pre-Con Etiquette

Anyone who attends conventions regularly knows that before a con people will make posts seeking roommates on Facebook/con forums/etc. Having been in a lot of drama over con roommates lately I felt I should point out proper ways to behave.

1. Some people have certain boundaries. Some people will only room with people of the same sex and some want their roommates to be in a certain age range. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this and you should respect such boundaries. If you do not fit into the right category, just don’t reply. I’m a person who won’t room with a guy. I’ve gotten a ton of crap for it and I don’t deserve it. Really guys, you should just avoid responding to “girls only” posts. Even the ones that were supposed to be jokes come off as insulting and/or creepy more often than not.

2. I know you mean well when you reply with “good luck” or something similar. However, I suggest you not do that. When I see someone has responded to my post, I get excited thinking I might have found a roommate just to end up disappointed.

3. I understand after initial contact with a potential roommate, you may have to take a few days to see if it will work out. Once you know if it’s a definite yes or no, contact the person and let them know about it. Don’t wait until they confront you.