23. Each house acted differently at meal times:


  • Before anybody eats they all pass around the food
  • Everybody has a full plate before anybody starts
  • Most likely to try and feed animals under the table
  • Most memorable incident of this was when the teachers found three generations of rabbits hiding under the table (the Niffler was a close second)


  • There are some kids reading while they eat but there’s just as many talking with each other
  • Once a week they make a point of having a meal from a different part of the world (ex Chinese food one week, lobster the next, bison the week after)
  • Ravenclaws pop in and out of the kitchen all week making suggestions to the house elves (who enjoy the challenge and always come up with a feast)
  • A few items have even been added to the regular menu this way (there was almost a riot over the beignets from the other houses trying to snatch them)


  • By far the loudest house in the hall, with everybody shouting over one another and grabbing food
  • Whenever anybody has a birthday in their house they make sure to sing “Happy Birthday” for them (at the top of their lungs, of course)
  • Birthday kid has to walk down the centre of the table (and try to avoid getting tripped)
  • Everybody learns that not all Gryffindors are good at singing, but not for lack of effort


  • Polite table manners, but heaven help you if you take food off somebody’s plate, they see that as a grave insult
  • Slytherin spends all year preparing for one day to change their routine and confuse everybody (they keep changing it every year, to keep people on their toes)
  • Sometimes they all speak a different language for the meal, sometimes they communicate with hand signals without words, sometimes they all levitate everything and eat their meal while slowly floating in the air
  • One year this got so out of hand that an over enthusiastic student set the Great Hall on fire (to this day nobody knows which one it was as Slytherins never snitch on a fellow snake, so the entire house got detention)

submitted by @theshadowedqueen82

A Secret | SICHENG

so you’ve chosen a secret for your seven minutes in heaven? collab with @versigny and co, choose another path here

Genre: frat/college!au | fluff | mild angst sexual themes

Member: Sicheng / Reader

Word Count: 10,400+

Warnings: language, references and usage of drugs and alcohol, sexual themes

Originally posted by taeflower

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“So much of the resistance against meal programs is from the ongoing misconception that parents are just lazy and want handouts. As opposed to the reality that many are working multiple jobs to get by and don’t have time to cook and/or are struggling to put healthy food on the table. Typical lack of empathy towards poor people..”
How about the Trump Administration stop eating free food paid by our taxes.
How about we use that money to feed the kids.
I keep thinking things can’t get worse, but it does, and I’m proven wrong every time.
*Shoutout to the Black Panther Party for pioneering free breakfast for kids.
Also black folks have created many programs, and solutions to combat poverty, hunger and homelessness for decades. Poverty has played a major role in the civil rights movements, and liberation movements. They pioneered a lot of these programs for the poor.


For #kuroweek2k17- Day 3: Reflection/Mirror

Cover Image: source

- wolf 🐺

On Day 4 since Shiro returned, the dining table that had been a staple during meal times, that had delightfully bounced the ceiling lights off the surface to the amusement of the team, mysteriously wound up in one of the many empty room in the castle. It was placed awkwardly inside the room, as if haphazardly pushed in by the ones moving it, before the door was closed and locked.

No one mentioned the lack of the table as Shiro picked at his food from his seat in the common area that they had collectively deemed to be the living room of the castle.

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Beguiling Bubbles

Pairing: George x Reader
Request: Request where (Y/n) gets dosed with a love potion by someone else, but she accidentally falls for one of the twins instead
A/N: Sorry it’s been ages! It’s very late at night so this hasn’t been edited. Also, where I go into detail about how the first person the drinker sees is who they fall for, that was pulled directly out of my ass souly for the purpose of the story because the wiki didn’t have much on the other potions that weren’t amortentia so I made it up 
Squicks: little bit of swearing

~George’s POV~

He sort of blackmailed me into it. Seamus Finnigan knew about the shipments for the store that we were hiding in the Docks, and threatened to go to McGonagall if we didn’t help him out.

“Which one of you is the least crap at potions?” he had asked me and Fred, smiling while thinking of all the possibilities now that he had us under his thumb.

“Neither of us are shit at potions mate,” Fred stood up for himself, sneering down at the little stain who thought he could boss us around.

“Alright, if one of you can get a love potion to me by tomorrow night I’ll keep your little secret, howzabout it?”

We had no clue what he wanted a love potion for, but we didn’t really care. The less we had to spend dealing with that git the better.

You’re the least shit at potions,” Fred said to me once Seamus had buggered off, “do you wanna make it?” I groaned in response, honestly not wanting to go through the trouble of sneaking into Snape’s little pantry to get out some shit that I don’t even want, then go to the trouble of making this damn thing, again when it isn’t even something I want.

We stayed up that night making the blasted potion, Fred insisting that he was there for encouragement purposes. Not many people knew that I was actually alright at Potions, especially since Snape would never dream of giving me the marks to show it…

At around 3 in the morning, the stupid potion was done. We poured it into one of the empty bottles from the ingredients that we nicked, and snuck back up to Gryffindor tower. On our way back up to our dorm, we made sure to make a stop on the way. “Oi, what the f—“ Seamus started, freaking out at the sudden awakening of Fred shoving him, “There’s your perfume, now get off our backs,” I whispered sharply at Seamus, as he took the bottle and told us to piss off.

— — Morning (Regular POV) — —

Fred and George were at the Gryffindor table, their lack of sleep evident in their flippant attitude and tired looks. They broke out of this mood, however, when Seamus grasped their curiosity. He was whispering to Dean, holding the glass bottle filled with the cherry pink potion that George had made a few hours ago.

“What have you got, Seamus?” Ron called out, nothing his shifty behaviour as well as the unusual bottle. He was immediately shushed and shot an intimidating glare with wild hand movements, “Keep it down, Weasley! It’s a love potion idiot, I’m going to get Y/n to be all over me!” Seamus laughed, while Ron, Hermione and Harry all looked awkwardly and warily each other.

Fred’s eyes widened as he looked over at his twin, who had an angry expression on his face, mixed with fear. George, much like Seamus, had feelings for Y/n, and Fred knew about it because, well, of course he does. The two weren’t particularly close with Y/n, but that didn’t stop George crushing over her constantly.

Seamus and Dean laughed, as they nodded to each other, silently setting their plan in motion. Before George had the chance to do anything, Dean had started a conversation with Y/n, causing her to look away from her breakfast, while Seamus poured the contents of the bottle into her orange juice. George looked at Seamus with a panicked expression, only to have it returned with Seamus’ glare, wordlessly sending him a warning of what he’ll do if George blew his cover.

Fred quietly swore to himself, the gears in his brain trying to work out a solution, while George weighed out his options: lose Y/n or lose the shop. In these moments, the answer was obvious to George, but as he looked back at her, she was already bringing the glass to her lips.

“Y/N—!” George tried to warn her. As she drank the liquid she looked across the table at George, her eyes lingering on him. Seamus and Dean laughed and high-fived from behind her, as she put the glass back on the table.

Now would be a good time to take note on the assortments of love potions. There are five known assortments of love potions, each with assumingly different effects. George, having not opened up the shop with his brother yet, had not yet needed to test out these different types. Unlike Amortentia where the giver of the potion is the one the drinker will be infatuated with, it’s the first person that the drinker sees that they will be infatuated with in this case.

— — George’s POV — —

She kept staring at me, as if something was stopping her from looking away. A smile slowly formed on her lips, as she rested her head in her hands, still staring at me.

“Y/n? You alright there?” Fred asked, moving his head next to mine to try and get her to look at him. She kept staring, her smile big as she replied in an airy voice, “never been better”.

Seamus, clearly annoyed, sat directly next to Y/n and moved her head with his hands so that she was facing him, “Helloooo?” he said into her face,

“I’d rather look at George Weasley,” she giggled, looking back at me, her head resting in her hands again, “God, you’re handsome, isn’t he handsome, er, whatever your name is,” she said to Seamus, causing Fred and Dean to laugh and Seamus to look like he would explode with anger.

“Uh, how about we go for a walk?” I suggest quickly, standing up as more people start to pay attention to the small scene.

Y/n gasped with excitement, “yes! Let’s go on a loooong romantic walk together!”

I start to walk toward the door with Y/n walking on the other side of the table at the same pace, watching me still with that smile.

Fred nudged me, “George, mate, don’t get sucked into it, it’s the potion talking—“

“I know,” I say quietly back, “we’re going to the hospital wing”.

Walking all the way up to the hospital wing was nothing short of a nightmare. All I’ve wanted was for Y/n to have feelings for me, but there’s only so many compliments, hand holding, cuddles and heart eyes one man can take in the space of five minutes.

“What’s the problem?” Madam Pomfrey asked,

“Y/n’s been slipped a love potion,” Fred says, as I hold up my arm which Y/n is hugging.

“Ah, I see,” Madam Pomfrey says sceptically, “I hope you realise that love potions are banned from Hogwarts…”

I explained to her that I wasn’t the one to slip Y/n that blasted potion, but how I was the first one she looked at afterwards. She thankfully believed me, and sat the dazed Y/n down on one of the hospital beds and handing her an antidote.

“Isn’t he dreamy…” Y/n giggled, eyes back on me.

“I think it best that the two of you leave, or else the antidote will take much longer to work,” Madam Pomfrey explained, as Y/n flipped her hair and sent me a wink.

Fred and I both agreed, and we said good-bye to Y/n, to which she started crying. “Noooooo George, I don’t want you to leave, pleeeeeeease!” she whaled.

“It would make me really happy if you just stayed here and got some rest, alright?” I asked her, looking down at my hand that she had taken in her own. It stung that she was only acting as if she was in love with me because of a potion, and that she didn’t really have any of these feelings towards me, not really. I wanted to get out of there soon as possible so I wouldn’t have to think about that, but there was also something that felt perfect about my hand being in hers.

After a few hours, a healthy Y/n walked cautiously through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room. A few people saw her and giggled amongst themselves, embarrassment clear on Y/n’s face. A few hours ago she couldn’t keep her eyes off me, and now she couldn’t even bring herself to look in my direction, instead looking at the floor as she walked past the Gryffindors, towards the stair case leading to the dormitories.

“Y/n, hold up,” I say, taking hold of her forearm as we were half way up the staircase. She turned around, taking a moment before gaining the confidence to look up at me.

“Y/n, I know you probably feel like shit, and if there’s anything I can do I’ll do it, but I didn’t slip you that love potion, I wouldn’t do that to you,” I try to explain. I wasn’t trying to defend myself, I just wanted to ease some of the embarrassment that she was feeling. I repeat the story of how it all happened, and I could see her face soften. “I wouldn’t do anything to force you to have feelings for me, I know you don’t feel that way about me,” I say, not meaning to sound as deflated as I felt.

Y/n looked at me, not the same way as this morning, but with a curious look, as if briefly studying me.

“I do like you, George,” she said, smiling at the look of astonishment on my face.

“You… What?” is all I manage to say, causing her to laugh,

“Yeah, I like you a fair bit, maybe not crazy in love like this morning,” she smiles, “but there’s definitely something there. I’ve already made a fool of myself in front of you today, so I might as well admit it all now,” she says with a shrug.

I don’t say anything for a few seconds, because what do you say back to that? The girl who went from head-over-heels in love with me to what I thought would be her despising me, and now meeting in the middle to her fancying me, it’s a lot. So, with no words coming to mind to save me, I kissed her. I wrapped my arm around her, my free hand resting on her jaw, as she kissed me back almost immediately.

We parted, and I couldn’t help but smile. Who knew that Seamus being such a dick could’ve turned out this good?


From The Dining Table

A series of generally canon-compliant vignettes set at the Tomlinson/Styles household dining table (or lack thereof). 

Inspired by Louis’ recent Guardian article photo where he is sitting at a table with an egg on toast in front of him.

guys, i wrote a fic(let)! i’ve been having shan @buckylouie and steph @mommotommo read it as I went to make sure it wasn’t total trash. please give it a read if you’d like and reblog for others. thanks :)

anonymous asked:

Hi! I have a bawson prompt. Mike and Ginny having an argument and people try to intervene before they both say something they'll regret

Ginny’s sitting at the kitchen table, her knee propped up on the chair, as she moves her food around the plate with her fork.  The peas swirl into a pattern, escaping the prongs of her utensil, as she stares at their movement, refusing to look up into the eyes burning a hole into her at that moment.

Evelyn awkwardly coughs, trying to break the tension casting itself across the table, giving a look towards Blip to say something.

He all but grunts in frustration at her, until her eyes narrow, and he glances at the pair in front of him.

“So, guys,” he starts, but neither of them even look in his direction.  “Last night, that was fun, huh?”

Ginny tenses at the mention of the night before, her fork clattering into the plate set before her, causing a rattling flitter of anger to stream from her.  She visibly swallows, before clenching her jaw, her dimple making its angry appearance.

Mike tries to whisper her name across the table, his lack of subtlety lost on no one, as his audience sits captive.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Mike,” she suggests to the table, picking up her fork and violently stabbing a pea, before bringing the food to her mouth and aggressively chewing the green speck.

“Ginny,” he groans in frustration.

That catches her attention, and she looks up at him, malice in her eyes.

“No, Mike, go ahead, tell them about the blonde,” she motions to her friends.  Evelyn’s eyes grow wide at Ginny’s admission, and Blip folds his hands in front of him, resting his head, as if waiting for more than an admission of jealousy to fly out of their mouths.

“Why do you care?” He shoots at her.

“I don’t,” she tries to say with a level of ambivalence, but fooling no one, least of all herself.  “I just think that a better example should be set from our Captain when we go out in public.”

“That’s rich, Gin, considering I saw you practically grinding on Livan on the dance floor,” he aims back at her, his hands coming down on the table with bang loud enough to rattle his plate.

“I’m surprised you could see anything over the mountain of fake boobs pressed against your face,” she says with a sneer.

Blip tries to cut in, as Evelyn’s head moves back and forth like she’s watching a tennis match, but Mike isn’t backing down, his voice booming over his friend’s.

“Thought you had a no ballplayers rule?  Guess that’s shot to hell.  Not that you ever really stuck to that rule before only when it came to me…” and he instantly regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

Ginny balks, and the gulf of hurt swimming in her eyes isn’t lost on him.

“Okay, that’s enough dinner theatre for tonight,” Evelyn cuts in.

“Gin,” he tries, but Ginny’s pushing her chair out from under her, storming off into the other room before he can finish.

Evelyn’s moving to leave, twirling around to face Mike with a finger pointed right at him, her tiny frame hovering above his.  “You better be thinking of one hell of an apology for her when she gets back,” she warns, before clacking away to find Ginny.

He pulls his hands over his face, his fingers shaking with regret as they comb over his beard.

Blips leans back in his chair, studying the disaster that is Mike.

“You should tell her,” he offers.

Mike’s hands fall to his lap.  

“Tell her what?”

“Well, for starters that you politely told that blonde to get the fuck away from you last night,” Blips laughs with a shake of his head.

“It doesn’t matter–”

“You’re so damn stupid,” Blip interrupts him, standing from the table and moving to grab two more beers.  Setting one down in front of Mike.  “You better tell her you love her, because I guarantee you if you don’t, Evelyn will,” he says with a raise of his brow, and takes a long pull of his drink.

Mike looks in the direction Ginny had gone.

“Is it that obvious?” He asks, causing Blip to laugh again.

“Nah, man.  Only to everyone except G.”

Mike’s face tints with red, as he stands without a word, his sorrow and regret evident on his face, as she stalks off to find Ginny.

“Is it obvious?” Blip mocks with a snicker into his drink.

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my ask box and I will write the next five sentences.

Zach Werenski #7

Again, another imagine that wasn’t requested.. But I do have some Zach requests so hopefully this ties you all over till I get to those :) I got this inspiration while listening to Mess Is Mine by Vance Joy so give that a listen if you wanna! 

Word Count: 2,278

It couldn’t be him. What in the world were the odds that he would be at the farmers market so early on a Sunday morning. But you swore you saw him, as you picked up a fresh soft peach from the wooden bucket, you saw him. That dark brown hair, his wide hazel eyes, and you couldn’t miss though stupidly perfect eyebrows either. Truthfully, you thought your eyes were just playing tricks on you, till you looked up again and he was closer this time. 

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daylightspeaks  asked:

Bughead prompt: A little sweet he can't resist, often leads to being kissed! - Veronica Lodge

I had to go and look up where this quote was from! Fudge to give him the final nudge, ay Ronnie? I was gonna make this cute and fluffy but then oops angst happened! Enjoy my loves.

(I wrote this on the notes section of my phone, and am currently sitting on a wall to get wifi, the things I do for you lot, huh? ❤)


“Hey, B!” Veronica beamed, strutting down the hallway towards her friend. Betty looked upwards in acknowledgement, the small smile she offered grim at best, not even close to reaching her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Veronica asked, tone switching to concern instantly. Betty began to shake her head, unusually askew ponytail swaying as she looked down dejectedly, fingers playing with the frayed edge of her sweater sleeve.

“It… it’s nothing,” Betty murmured, refusing to meet Veronica’s steady gaze.

“Come on, B, I know you. And I definitely know when something is up? Tell me, maybe I can help,” Veronica coaxed, resting a reassuring hand on her arm. Betty bit her bottom lip as it began to quiver, blinking quickly in an attempt to dissipate the tears gathering along her waterline.

“Jughead and I had a fight,” she got out with a shaky inhale. “Our first fight.” Veronica’s eyes hardened at the pain she saw settling on Betty’s face.

“What did Edgar Allen Poe do?” she all but demanded, shoulders moving back as she prepared for some classic Lodge confrontation. The colour drained from Betty’s face.

“No, it was my fault,” she whispered, Veronica having to lean forward slightly in order to catch the words. She blinked in surprise. The idea of Riverdale’s very own Perfect Polly (and yes, she was aware of the irony) doing anything to anger someone - let alone the boy that fawned over her like she hung the stars - was unimaginable.

“Oh… what happened?” she asked, too curious to be sorry about prying. Betty sighed, shoulders curling forward in defeat.

“It’s stupid, I don’t even know why…” she cried, hands gesturing futilely. “He just caught me at a really bad moment, Mom is still a wreck about Polly, and I had an awful headache and he wouldn’t stop talking about how we weren’t getting anywhere with the investigation anymore and I snapped!” Her breathing hitched as she closed her eyes against the memory of her outburst. “I said that maybe…” she paused, shaking her head, unable to repeat her words. “I implied there were more important things than our investigating and his novel, in more unkind words,” she whispered, voice cracking as the tears finally started to spill over. Veronica grimaced, unable to stop herself from picturing the way Jughead’s face would have fallen at his girlfriend’s outburst. Betty swiped furiously at her face. “You should have seen him, V, he looked so sad but he just nodded and left. I-I didn’t mean it, I wanted to take it all back straight away but he…” she had to pause to catch her stuttering breath.

Veronica’s heart ached for the crestfallen girl before her. Sure, she’d been surprised when she’d first learned of their secret tryst, but she couldn’t deny the good they had done for each other. Betty had a glow that radiated from her very core, lighting her up even on her darkest days. And she’d never seen Jughead so… comfortable, like he finally felt at home in his skin, like he wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. And Betty had gone and knocked over the whole damn display rack just because of the wrong thing said at the wrong time. Veronica ran her eyes over Betty one last time, mouth dropping open slightly as the pieces fell into place.

“You love him.” It wasn’t a question. Betty’s eyes snapped up to meet her own, shining with fresh tears, but their depth of verdant green crystal clear. Betty sniffed, running her sleeve under her nose.

“Yeah,” she said, voice cracking, as if it were the simplest statement in the world. “And now he won’t even look at me.” They stood, face to face in the hall a while longer before Veronica straightened up, chin lifting into the air slightly.

“Well, if my girl is in trouble then it is my duty as designated best friend to help her out,” Veronica announced, hoping to pull a giggle from Betty’s downturned lips. The reluctant smirk she offered was good enough. “Every woman knows that the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and given that I suspect Jughead is secretly harbouring at least three stomachs this should be an easy feat,” she quipped, eyes sparkling mischievously. Betty couldn’t hold back her laugh, breath stuttering still on her inhale. Veronica’s eyes softened. “I know it’s hard, but I can say without a doubt that the frustrating enigma that is Jughead Jones the Third is head over heels in love with you too,” she said, tipping Betty’s downturned face up with a delicate finger under her chin.

“You think?” The hope in Betty’s voice was enough to melt the iciest of hearts. Veronica nodded firmly.

“I know.” The creases in Betty’s forehead smoothed out slightly as Veronica linked her arm through hers. “Come on, Julia Child, we’ve got work to do.”


When she tried to leave her spot next to Betty on the worn out couch in the Blue and Gold office she’d yelped in surprise as tight finders dug into her forearm, keeping her firmly in place. She raised a sharply arched questioning eyebrow.

“I need you here, in case…” Betty trailed off, unable to bring herself to think of the alternative. Veronica nodded in understanding, resting a reassuring hand over the one still tightly clinging to her arm.

Jughead was cautious as he stepped over the threshold, into the office he considered a second home. Betty’s heart stopped before picking up again in double time. She stood up on shaky legs, nervousness coursing through her veins. Veronica took a moment to look closely at Jughead’s face, the faintest traces of red rimmed his suspicious eyes as they flicked around the room, determined not to meet Betty’s head on.

“Hi, Juggie,” her barely audible voice still rung out loud and clear across the stiflingly still air in the room.

“Hey, Betts.” His voice was thick and gravelly with unshed emotion. His eyes finally landed on the box on his desk, gaudy and bright, tied with an elaborate bow that Veronica insisted had to be the look they went for. “What’s that?” he asked cautiously. Betty’s had came up to run through her ponytail, an action of comfort.

“They’re… I made you brownies,” she shrugged, the gesture seeming silly now that he was standing in front of her. How could sugar and chocolate possible make up for the hurt she caused? Her heart stuttered at the disbelieving chuckle he let out, eyes beginning to glow with classic Jughead mirth once more. Betty felt her confidence grow. “I’m so sorry, Juggie, I didn’t mean any of the things I-” she stopped, feeling her words start to pour forth wildly. She pointed to the delicately folded paper tucked under the ribbon. “I wrote everything down just in case,” she mumbled bashfully. His heart swelled at her gesture.

Veronica watched with apprehension as Jughead gingerly picked up the note and began to read. Betty hadn’t let her read what she had written, placing her hand over the page as her cheeks dusted with pink. Veronica smiled sheepishly at her nosiness, lifting her hands in apology as she left Betty to her declarations. Jughead’s breath hitched audibly as his eyes fervorously scanned the words written in Betty’s sloping hand. He looked up at her suddenly, eyes wide and gleaming.

“Really?” he asked, tone wistful. Betty nodded, smiling through quivering lips.

“Yes, I love you,” her words were just a breath as he reached for her, cupping her cheeks with shaking hands and pressing his lips to hers with an undeniable fire. Her hands fisted in the soft fabric of his sweater. He pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, heart pounding under her palms.

“I love you, Betty.” Veronica smiled in satisfaction as she slipped out behind them unnoticed as they remained wrapped around each other.


“Betts, these are the best brownies I’ve ever tasted. Seriously,” Jughead mumbled around a mouth full of cake from across the booth at Pop’s, crumbs falling from his lips. Veronica scrunched her nose up in disgust at his lack of table manners, turning to look at her best friend, expecting to see Betty’s face mirroring her own. But instead she was greeted with that glow, the one she’d been missing for those few dreary hours they were apart. Betty giggled shyly, reaching up to wipe away some of the mess on his face before pressing a tender peck against the corner of his mouth while he smiled at her with that expression he saved for her eyes only.

Betty glanced over at her best friend over the tabletop, mouthing a ‘thank you’ when she caught her eyes. Veronica nodded in acknowledgment. She hadn’t experienced much love in her lifetime yet, but she knew that the story unfolding across from here would be one for the ages.

▶ 1. for: yoongi [ m ]


▶   Genre: Smut.
▶   Description: Teasing Yoongi in a formal dining setting with Bangtan members on either side of you using explicit pictures is only in good fun, right?
▶   Word count: 5,165.

It’s another one of those classy, boring dinners with the boys and staff, celebrating yet another award which would simply be cased up in the lobby of the Bighit offices on display among the many others Bangtan has taken home.

This kind of dinner was one of many that you’ve attended over the years. You being you, had to attend these due to yours and Yoongi’s public relationship, because as fans tend to do, instantly jumping to conclusions after not seeing you two together for a week. There were mixed reactions among fans and staff on yours and Yoongi’s relationship. Hell, the CEO himself told Yoongi to cut it off a couple of years ago, that it would only make fans turn their back to Bangtan and make them lose fans; to which Yoongi replied, but then, are they really fans?

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If we get Gomez!Master and Simm!Master in the same scene (I’m still 99% sure it’s gonna be a regeneration from one to the other, but would be pleased to stand corrected) I really hope we get Missy complaining about the severe lack of table manners her past self has: 

“You don’t just eat humans with your bare fingers. You use a pointy stick! We didn’t grow up in a bloody barn like certain people.

  • Haruta: I don't like him.
  • Thatch: Who?
  • Haruta: That brat dating Marco.
  • Izo: Ace? I admit he's a little table- manners lacking but-
  • Haruta: No I like Ace, He's good for Marco. I'm talking about the other one.
  • Thatch/Izo: Sabo!? How can you not like Sabo?
  • Haruta: He's super fake. He's charming all the time but no one is that charming! And he acts like a gentleman, but do you hear what comes out of his mouth!? He aims to hurt you with his words!!!
  • Thatch: Did he say you were short or did he say you have cute eyes?
  • Haruta face red: Both the bastard.

More pictures to come because as you can see I am completely lacking tables and a lot of decoration lmfao, I’ll be correcting that gradually over summer

Left to right, top to bottom: My very empty living room (which leads to the balcony! but there’s nothin out there yet so again, pics to come), kitchen, 2 pictures of my room (bed/ desk), and the bathroom is also kinda empty rn besides essentials so i don’t have a full picture, but i bought a cute lil bath mat and a body scrub as housewarming gifts to myself.

I only just moved in two days ago but I already have a lot of optimism about the place. The plumbing is actually reliable, the water pressure in the shower is normal (which I find really incredible since all of the showers I’ve had in santa cruz thus far range from “gently peeing on you” to “pressure washer hose”), oh and no ants! Or spiders! Or cat hair/ waste/ litter box dust everywhere! Because I have no housemates leaving open containers of food out/ forgetting to take care of their damn pets.

I have not been able to actually sit in a bath tub unless I was home for summer for the last 3 years, nor have I ever had a medicine cabinet or a refrigerator/ freezer that’s all my own. And my room here is bigger than mine back in the Bay??? As you can see I completely underestimated just how much space I had available to fill. But rn it’s clean and organized and there’s lots of room to breathe… so since I haven’t had that in so damn long I’m really happy!!

It’s weird starting over at the end of the school year, but I think this needed to be done asap. I have never lived with less than 6 people at a time while at school (my freshman year I lived with 10). Happy to say I’ll be on my own the rest of my time as an undergraduate.

Lemonade Stand {m.c.}

(A/N: Before you read this story, know that it’s set in Australia and our summer is from November to February and also we have $1 and $2 *gold* coins. That’s about as much background info as you need, hopefully.)  

Originally posted by sexycliffconda

Summary: You used to hate Michael because of what happened when you were kids. Until you realised how wrong your perception of him was. 

Word Count: 2,476


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Doing the thing where I post my financial goals so I feel held accountable to them and I don’t stray:

1. Bulk shipping envelopes
2. IKEA Lack TV tables to use as a work table
3. Large marble tile for a better work surface
4. Blue snowball mic so I can start streaming my clay work like I want
5. x2 IKEA Kallax bookshelves (8 squares) in white for shop storage
6. Boxes/doors to go into shelves so I don’t hate how it looks
7. IKEA Raskog cart for organizing daily supplies
8. More yellow/brown/black/beige clay
9. More Bake and Bond liquid
10. More varathane which is way better than standard clay glaze
11. More eyepins
12. More magnets
13. More necklaces
14. Advertising postcards for live streams to go in holiday packets
15. More bead/craft organizers to sort completed stock in

Sterek AU: Elementary

When Stiles Stilinski, an observational genius working as a consulting detective, gets out of rehab, his father hires a sober companion to help him stay clean. The task falls upon Derek Hale, M.D. and a former psychiatrist, who resigned from his position after a patient harassed him sexually and then tried to set his house on fire.

Stiles is rude and absent-minded and brilliant, leaves his dirty socks on the kitchen table and lacks some serious decency. Derek has a permanent frown that makes people feel like opening up; he hates his job but does it because of his overdosed sister and is so done with Stiles’ shit. Yet, when the six weeks of companionship is done and Stiles asks him to stay, he does.

In the meantime, they solve crimes.