newly renovated

My dad told me a story recently about how he was in Boy Scouts or something and they went on a hike and were each given a rifle and one single bullet to practice shooting with (idk, it was the 70s or whatever). One of his friends, whom I’ll refer to as Steel Balls for reasons that will soon become clear, beckons my dad to a part of the woods and points to a giant hornets nest up in a tree. SB announces that he’s going to shoot it, waits for my dad to take cover (as one should in this situation), and fires off his only round into the nest. Sure enough, a swarm of pissed off hornets descend upon SB, who stands stoically and perfectly still at the base of the tree. Dad maintains that, despite their buzzing right around him, none of the hornets stung his friend, and they soon calmed down and returned to their newly renovated nest. SB turns back to face my dad and imparts this chunk of wisdom: “That’s the secret to dealing with hornets, Jim. They don’t know humans make rifle shots; they don’t know where the noise came from. You gotta stand still and don’t move, and they won’t chase you. If you run, they know you’re guilty.” Apparently dad was so awed he gave up his single bullet so SB could shoot the nest a second time, with the same results.

Long story short: hornets can sense guilt and there are people in the world who have tested this theory.

2

Single and pregnant, Beth Greene is deeply ashamed for past decisions and mistakes she has made. Not wanting to go back to her family farm, not wanting to see her parents’ own shame, but having no where else to go, Beth empties her bank account and drives away, prepared to find herself a new home where no one knows her and will not judge her.

As the building manager in a newly renovated apartment building, it’s Daryl Dixon’s job to make sure that things are working properly for all of the tenants - all three of them. It’s his job to unclog the shower drain in apartment A2. It’s not his job to wonder where her boyfriend or husband is when she asks if he can help her put a baby crib together.

I May Have Made Her Mad

Peter x Reader


Derek wasn’t sure when, how or why he’d befriended you or when exactly you’d ended up living with him and Peter in the newly renovated loft but it had happened and he wasn’t going to complain about it. Peter thought you moving in was the best idea Derek had ever had, he adored how frustrated he could get you just by smirking after a mean comment, or how if you got to upset Derek would step in.

 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could I get number 7 with xiumin? For the drabbles? Thanks anyway

I swear, if I see that damn slip of pink paper on my car one more time-

You were fuming as you walked across the parking garage.

The source of the problem began two months ago, when the apartment complex you were staying at released an announcement that they were undergoing significant ‘improvements’. And by improvements, they really meant that there would be a newly renovated list of demands and restrictions from the Residents’ Board. One of these ‘improvements’ was the implementation of a new parking policy; one that said that there would now only be five parking spaces available for each floor. With five separate apartments on each floor, this would normally be a non-issue.

However, it became an issue three weeks ago, once your imperious new neighbor, Kim Minseok, decided to move into the empty apartment on the floor of which you currently resided in: the fourth floor.

Your first impressions of Minseok were rather positive. At least, they started out that way. It seemed as though every encounter you had with Minseok aside from the courtesy introduction was one of malcontent, leaving you infuriated more often than not.

The animosity you held towards him originated once you travelled down to the parking garage three weeks ago to find a small, pink slip tucked neatly against the windshield-wipers. It read promptly:

     “Ms. (y/n) (y/l/n),

We regret to inform you that you have violated the official Resident Board’s protocol initiative #0083, stating that a limit of five parking spaces are permitted per resident floor. Each floor is assigned their respective parking spaces. It has come to our attention that your vehicle is not parked in one of the assigned spaces, and the following fine will be sent to your address accordingly.

     Signed, The Residents’ Board”


Well no dip, Sherlock, of course my car isn’t parked in the assigned spot.

There was a simple reason why you couldn’t park your car in your own spot. And this reason belonged to Kim Minseok. Or rather, his moped. Because not only did Minseok own a black sedan, but he was also the resident owner of a rusty, ancient scooter that you were pretty sure could have been invented in the late 19th century.

A scooter that he believed deserved its own parking spot.

In essence, you had been booted from your own parking spot, and now, the Residents’ Board had so kindly taking the initiative to fine you for not magically replacing the rackety old moped with your car.

For the first offense, you brought this conflict up with Minseok calmly and professionally. If handling measures professionally entailed writing your own letter and sticking it to his moped, then yes, you considered yourself a professional. The first note you sent was thoroughly formal and respectful, as you assumed the receiving party to be understanding and cognisant.

Well, if that were the case, you wouldn’t be here facing the same dilemma as you have been for the past three weeks.

Minseok had been kind enough to respond to your note with one of his own. Put in simple terms, he denied your request up-front. He apparently valued this moped so much that it deserved its own space. As far as you knew, he never drove the damned thing: you’ve never seen him so much as touch it. He was permanently stuck on his high horse, and considering the way he talked about it, this moped could have been one.

The two of you had been passing heated notes back and forth since the issue began. Each time you would explain the selfishness apathetic nature of his actions, he would respond with such a haughty attitude that you had to physically restrain yourself from walking right up to his doorstep and blowing a fuse. Despite the childish nature of the notes the two of you had been passing back and forth, you liked to consider yourself more mature than that.

But this was where you drew the line.

You had received the fine for ‘erroneous parking’ seven times now. You didn’t know how much more of Minseok’s ceaseless arrogance you could take.

So here you were, stalking angrily across the parking garage’s cold, concrete floor as you spotted the little pink dot plastered to your car in the distance. Once you made it to the front of your car, you snatched the pink paper away from where it had become quite comfortable. It was another fine.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You tore the piece of paper in half, continuing to rip it into fourths, then eighths, then sixteenths, and so on until the floor had been coated in tiny pink lint. In the midst of your heinous fit, you decided it was a good idea to kick something.

Bad idea, (y/n), bad idea.

You immediately doubled over in pain as your foot came into contact with the curb of the sidewalk. You could’ve sworn blood was forming in your mouth with how hard you bit down on your tongue to stop from crying out in pain. Falling on your butt, you pulled your legs to your chest and clutched the injured foot as it throbbed in excruciating pain.

“Well, that’s tragic.”

Your head whipped in the direction of the voice.

Your teeth gritted together in a mix of pain and disgust as your eyes met those of Mr. Kim Minseok himself.

“Would you like some help?” You were taken aback at the genuine concern in his voice.

After studying his face, you noticed that where you had expected there to be a look of amusement or superiority in his expression, there was only worry.

“I have nothing to say to the nation’s biggest moped lover.” You huffed, turning your gaze away in contempt.

“Hey, look, about that,” Minseok looked at the ground as he scratched the back of his head. “I didn’t realize it was really stressing you out this much.”

“What did you expect?” You spat childishly, too focused on the intense throbbing of your foot to think about civility. “I’m being fined a hefty sum of money every day you decide your moped is more important than your neighbor’s sanity.”

“That moped is more of a keepsake for me,” He looked back up from the ground to look you in the eye. “But I had no idea that the Residents’ Board kept fining you like that. You should’ve just told me that in the first place, other than angrily scribbling insults, violent threats, and aggressive demands.”

Right… That might’ve helped, (y/n).

“I thought it would be rather obvious, considering it’s the apartment complex’s policy.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize, but I did just move here a few weeks ago. I didn’t see anything about a parking fine in any of the bulletins.” Minseok looked genuinely apologetic, causing you to consider your spiteful attitude.

“Right, well-” You coughed, trying to retain some ounce of pride after being proven the idiot in this instance.

As you tried to stand however, you recoiled almost instantly. It felt as though fire was spreading from the balls of your feet up to your knee.

Minseok immediately stepped close to you, kneeling down and reaching an arm behind your back for support.

“I swear,” You muttered, more angry at yourself than at Minseok, “If I broke a toe or something because of this whole affair-”

“Here,” Minseok cut you off, helping to position you to sit against the door of your car. “Let me take you to the hospital to get it looked at.”

“No, that’s fine,” You lackadaisically shoved his hand aside and sighed deeply. “Besides, it’s all for nothing if you won’t move that damn scooter.”

Minseok sighed and let out a short laugh, running his hand through his hair as he did so.

“I’ll tell you what,” His smile was something you didn’t expect to affect you so deeply, but it did. “We haven’t had a proper opportunity to get to know each other, as neighbors. If you agree to grab some dinner with me tonight, then I’ll rent a spot for my moped and give you back your hard-fought parking spot.”

You blinked several times, speechless in utter surprise.

“U-um… I guess…” You took a deep breath, hardening your expression. “If you swear that I won’t have to see another one of those damn pink papers again as long as I live-”

“Agreed.” Minseok’s smile widened, and you could’ve sworn that some small part of you felt the urge to swoon, coming to the realization of just how abnormally handsome he was. “But first-”

Before you had the chance to utter a single word, Minseok’s arms swept underneath you. In the span of a second, he scooped you up into his arms, securing you in place with more strength than you thought possible. You had no idea how well-built he was, as his figure hid it rather well.

What you weren’t expecting more than that, however, was the mischievous wink he sent you to accompany his amused smirk.

“I really think I should take you to the hospital.”

Originally posted by xiundeer


A/N: It’s still the 26th over here in America!! Happy Xiumin Day!! I sincerely apologize for the fact that here haven’t been any updates in the past two weeks. As spring break, for me, is in a week, my teachers have been piling up the projects and tests and its just been aksdjsftrhldfqdfjsk. Despite this, I have been working on updates, just not enough to complete them ;~;

Thank you so much for continuing to be patient with me! Everyone’s love and support means so much to me and it continues to encourage me to keep writing! I hope this satisfied your request, hun! <3

~Nunchi

billboard.com
No. 6: Irving Azoff | Power 100

IRVING AZOFF, 69

Chairman/chief executive officer, Azoff MSG Entertainment

Last Year’s Rank: 6

For Irving Azoff, the longtime manager of the Eagles and former head of MCA Records and Ticketmaster, 2016 was ­"bittersweet.“ His friend and client, Eagles founder Glenn Frey, died Jan. 18, and the band’s future without him is uncertain. "Debilitating,” says Azoff. “But on the business side, we had a great year.”

As always, Azoff’s fingers are in every aspect of the music business. The band Bon Jovi, which he manages, hit No. 1 on the Billboard 200 for the sixth time, with 129,000 equivalent album units in first-week sales, then sold “basically every ticket known to man” for its 2017 tour; his Azoff MSG Entertainment ­company announced the ­groundbreaking of a 17,500-seat Las Vegas arena; and Azoff MSGE’s newly renovated Forum in Los Angeles brought in Drake, Kanye West and Louis C.K.

“I’ve never seen a healthier live side,” says Azoff. “The success of streaming is causing people to go [to concerts]. I never understood the economic issue, which is, ‘I’d like to stream for free, but I’ll spend a billion dollars to go buy concert tickets.’ ”

But it’s an as-yet-unresolved legal battle that Azoff points to as his top ­accomplishment in 2016. In December, his boutique performing rights ­organization Global Music Rights – which represents 73 clients – including ­Drake, John Lennon, Prince and ­songwriters behind hits for Justin Bieber and Adele, countersued a broadcast group called the Radio Music Licensing Committee over royalty ­payments. Azoff’s 4-year-old company contends that the rates are too low, the system for ­negotiating them is antiquated and the RMLC is an “illegal cartel.” (The ­committee has called Azoff’s tactics ­"bullying" and “frivolous.”)

It’s an Azoff kind of fight: He gets to stand with artists against a ­powerful group while making ­incendiary ­accusations in the media. “I’d rather be a smart-ass than a genius,” he says. “If you’ve got to err between smart-ass and genius, feel free to go smart-ass.”

How Trump Will Affect the Industry: “What, he is trying to sing, too?”

Tattoo

Stiles was helping Derek clean out the attic of the old Hale House, ready for them to move in together, when he stumbled across some of Derek’s drawings.

You can read it on AO3 here. For @toofarforward


Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines


Stiles was helping Derek clean out the attic of the old Hale house, getting ready for Stiles to move in – it was a sort of ‘out with the old, in with the new’ thing. Stiles didn’t care if Derek kept his old stuff, but the man seemed hell-bent on clearing the junk out of the newly-renovated house.

Derek had left a few minutes ago to pick up pizza for dinner and Stiles had turned his attention to sorting through an old suitcase of Derek’s old books and papers.

He had sorted them into piles for Derek to look at later: ‘burnt beyond readable but possibly treasured’, ‘burnt but salvageable if rebound’, and ‘in perfectly fine condition and to be sorted by Derek’.

He had finally reached the bottom of the suitcase when he found a small black folder filled with sheets of paper.

He contemplated leaving them alone, but that thought didn’t last long. Curiosity won him over and he pulled them out to look through them.

His jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw the gorgeous illustrations. They were beautiful sketches of the forest beyond the house, of members of his family, of wolves or butterflies, of the house and so various other things, all in immense detail and incredibly realistic.

Stiles picked one out: a strong portrait of a bold wolf.

He was so entranced by it that he didn’t hear Derek’s Camaro pull up, only the sound of the front door opening and the man’s booming voice calling out his name.

“Coming,” he shouted back, panicking as he quickly stowed the picture away in his backpack.

“I hope not,” Derek called back teasingly.

Stiles grabbed his bag and raced downstairs. He stopped in the doorway to the dining room and asked, “What?”

Derek smirked at him and Stiles realised what he had said.

The boy bowed his head and bit into his lip to stop himself from smiling back at Derek. “Really?”

Derek winked at him.

“You’re incorrigible,” Stiles scolded.

“You love it,” Derek whispered as he walked around the table and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles smiled, reaching up and looping his arms around Derek’s neck. He nuzzled his face into Derek’s and whispered, “I love you.”

Keep reading

Imagine you and your son being reunited with Ahkmenrah after years apart.

“Are you excited? About them extending the exhibit, I mean?” Larry asked Ahkmenrah. “Dr. McPhee said he had a surprise in store but he wouldn’t tell me exactly what it was. Wouldn’t it be cool to get another mummy in here? Someone to talk to about Egypt and stuff.”

 

Ahkmenrah said nothing as Larry rambled on. He barely acknowledged the night guard was even there. Ever since the expansion Ahkmenrah became more and more distant with everyone around him. Larry would often find him sitting alone. Staring at nothing, with the most brokenhearted look on his face. For the past few weeks the museum brought in more ancient relics from Egypt. Mostly urns and small statues. But earlier today there was a delivery. Workers moved a new item, a sarcophagus, into the exhibit. No one, not even Larry, knew about the golden coffin tucked away in the back of the newly renovated room.

 

“Ahk, you ok?” Larry questioned the pharaoh.

 

Ahkmenrah hesitated for a moment. “Yes, yes I’m fine.”

 

“Hey man, seriously. What’s wrong? You’ve been really…depressed lately.” Larry’s voice was filled with concern for his friend. “You can tell me, really.”

 

Ahkmenrah looked at Larry with tears in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but then turned around and fled the room. Larry ran after Ahkmenrah, desperate to help him.

 

At the same time, the new sarcophagus inside the exhibit began to move.

 

A small yawn captured your attention as you slowly opened your eyes. Even in the darkness of the golden coffin you both shared, your fingers quickly found his face. You caressed his cheek. So soft and plump still, like most six year olds. You could feel him smiling in the darkness. How much he looked like his father when he smiled. You kissed the top of his head then proceeded to push the lid of the sarcophagus open. Immediately you noticed the light was different. It was so sunny, almost like daylight. The moonlight inside the temple was never this bright. Or this color even with all the torches burning. The air was also different. It had a fruity almost lemon smell to it, with something else. Something chemical, perhaps?

 

“Mother?” Your young son asked, noticing the changes as well.

 

“Hush now Ramses.” You told him, slowly sitting up.

 

Hesitantly you exited the sarcophagus and looked around the room. You both were no longer in the temple of Merenkahre. The new room was small. Much smaller than any room inside the palace you once shared with your son and husband. The walls were similar to those found inside the temple but the hieroglyphics were all wrong. And where were the other sarcophaguses? The sound of approaching voices pulled you from your thoughts. You surveyed the room in a panic, looking for a weapon. Near the doorway lay some sort of metal tool. You grabbed it and positioned yourself against the wall. You motioned for your son to get behind you. You raised your weapon, ready to attack, then peaked around the corner. For a split second you thought your eyes had deceived you. In the next room stood your husband talking to an unfamiliar man in very strange clothing.

 

“Ahkmenrah…” You said, lowering your weapon as you turned the corner.

 

Ahkmenrah stood frozen, staring at you. His mouth open and his eyes wide. The man looked to you, then to Ahkmenrah, then back to you. He took a step toward you, holding out his hand.

 

“Hi, I’m Larry, the night guard here.” He greeted you. “Welcome to the Museum of Natural History.”

 

You walk closer, ignoring the peculiar guardsman. “Husband? Are you alright?”

 

“Husband?” Larry whispered.

 

Ahkmenrah tried to take a step toward you when he lost the strength in his legs and collapsed to the ground.

 

“I thought I would never again lay my eyes upon your faces. In Cambridge they said… They said your sarcophagus was gone, forever. They said there was no way to retrieve it. For centuries, I thought. I thought…” He began to sob uncontrollably.

 

Your son bolted from the doorway and ran to his father. Ramses knelt down before Ahkmenrah and gently reached out with his tiny hands. Ahkmenrah pulled the boy against him. He whispered his son’s name over and over as he rocked back and forth.

 

“Ahkmenrah, what has happened since the night before last? I do not understand.” You asked, now getting scared.

 

Larry had tears in his eyes as well. His hand was over his mouth, trying to hold back his own sobs.

 

“My wife, my love.” Ahkmenrah reached out to pull you down to them. He embraced you both. He alternated between kissing you and Ramses.  

                                                                   

“I will never lose you again. I will never lose you again.” He repeated again and again.

 

You sat back and took your husbands face in your hands. You had never seen him in such a state. Something terrible had happened to him. You could not imagine the torment he must have endured. Had it really been centuries since you last saw each other?

 

“Ahkmenrah please tell me what…”

 

“It matters not, now. You are here and here you will stay.” Ahkmenrah said, gaining his composure. “Come there is much I have to tell you. But first let me introduce you to a dear friend of mine. The Guardian of Brooklyn.”

Wednesday Workout

I originally was going to climb wth Moza and her husband tonight, but novio is at a concert, meaning the pup would’ve been home alone…plus I haven’t had the apartment to myself in a long time. I bailed on climbing and did a workout at our apartment’s “newly renovated” gym. 

Fortunately, one of novio’s classmates/my old running buddy is training for a half Ironman (you know, because the last semester of law school isn’t hard enough) and took the pup on a 3-mile run while I worked out. 

The gym is “ok”. The new machines are “meh” and the on-demand fitness room was taken up by some middle-aged ladies doing some jazzercise class so I couldn’t even check it out (even though that was what I had my heart set on).

So I settled for a mix of machines: 

  • 10 minutes on the stair machine 
  • 15 minutes rowing (3000 meters) 
  • 15 minutes walking on the treadmill at an incline (1 mile) 

When I went to pick up Pípe from my friend, she commented that I’m looking thinner. I see myself every day, as does novio, so to hear that from a friend really meant a lot. 

Resting tomorrow, climbing Friday, possible bike ride Saturday before a dinner thing, climbing Sunday. 

By the way – this whole “eastern part of US gets snow storm while Colorado gets 70*+ weather” isn’t cool (pardon the pun). We only got two decent snow storms this winter. TWO. I only got up snowboarding once and am losing a bunch of money on the pass I bought that still has 3 days left to use on it. 😡 

What. The. Hell.

Originally posted by partyingzebra18

© Martin Morrell

Travel Tuesday: In Provence, France, the stunning, newly renovated chateau-turned-hotel La Bastide de Gordes (photo) features both indoor and outdoor pools and an amazing restaurant that serves impeccable New Provençal dishes, like einkorn risotto with raw and cooked spring onions. Here, more of the best things to do in Provence.

2

✅Completed my Chemistry final yesterday✨✨🌜

Here’s a look at a summary I did for identifying isomers and the shelves at my newly renovated library! They have built in LED lights in them so all the books are lit up and beautiful ☺️📚

3 more finals to go!

Send me questions for a studyblr q&a😸😸

“My cat keeps breaking into your apartment and ate all your plants so I asked you out to dinner to apologize.” AU

Kyouya x Reader.

It was a mess a complete and utter mess.

You knew you were in a hurry to get to work this morning but you couldn’t remember tearing your pillows into a million pieces with your apparent claws, with dirt scattered about the place like a crafter had gone wild with glitter or having your front door hanging barely by the hinges with a yellow sticky saying only two words

“Im sorry.”and a phone number scribbled as an after thought right below it.

Obviously, you had been robbed by a not very bright robber with claws, anger management issues, and a issue with your white pillows.

Walking further around your newly and kindly renovated apartment with the well written sticky note in hand. You cringing at all damage inflicted on your poor apartment. Luckily the bedroom and bathroom seemed untouched by the hellbeast that got a hold of the rest of place. You then glanced upon your kitchen counter frowning at the pots that had been once occupied with plants were now in a million pieces and the plants were gone while the dirt had become glitter like all over your apartment.

‘Awe man’you thought. You had just gotten those herbs that you had gotten downtown for the cooking class you started on Monday.

That was the last straw whipping out your cell phone you angrily dialed the cell phone number that had been kindly by the punk.

“Hello?”an unfamiliar and slightly bored male voice echoed through the speaker.

“Yes is this ‘Im Sorry’?” You realized you hadn’t been graced with the name of the hell beast.

“I can explain…” He responded sounding alert fully aware of the barely hidden venom laced in your voice. “I know your probably pissed but I can explain…..”

“Pissed….???? Oh no no no Im so over the state of my apartment really. I just decided you call you just for kicks and say I love how you redecorated I really should of thought of that when I moved in. I can feel the grunge vibe you wanted to portray.”

“Look. It wasn’t my fault you left your apartment door opened a crack and Sir. George the third decided to pay you a little visit this morning. You really should keep your door locked.”

Was this guy serious? Trying to blame you for your wrecked apartment. “It doesn’t matter you should keep your drugged friend on a leash or something.” you hissed.

“Drugged Friend….?” He stated catching the last phrase and completely missing the first.

“Yes your  drugged or intoxicated or clearly not sane friend who decided to play HGTV at my apartment.” You said placing an hand piching the bridge of your nose.

“Pfffffttttttt…!” He snorted at your accusation.

“Im serious you better take this more seriously before I decide to call the police.” You threatened

He stopped laughing by the end of that sentence. Coughing trying to regain his composure. “Well, I don’t think they can arrest a cat but I’m no lawyer.” He barely choked out.

“Cat?”

“Cat.”

“So your cat did this to my apartment.”you said in pure disbelief glancing around the war zone.

“Well, yes and no. Originally it was just interested in your herbs which are now and his stomach and I’ll be happy to give them back once they make there return trip….”

‘Ewww’ you thought

“but them He decided to play HGTV as you so kindly put it in your apartment after I tried to get him to let go of poor plants and come home. As you can see that was his answer.”

“Ohhh…” You said still in utter disbelief. It looked like a small bear had wrecked your place not a tiny cat. “It was probably cause you named him a stupid name”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You gave him a stupid name and he took all that pent up anger out on my innocent plants and apartment. So yeah good call there, genius.”

“…….” came mystery guy’s answer to that observation.

“So anyway what are you gonna do about this?”

“What?” came his dumbfounded response.

Oh, you must have hurt his ego on the last comment. “What are you gonna do in response for the damages. I don’t think anything valuable was damaged but still your hellbeast. Your problem.”

“……Hellbeast?….Nevermind…..” He mused sighing at the choice of verbal abuse you flung at him.

“…..So….”

“Im thinking!”He snapped losing the cool composure he had throughout your little exchange.

“Fine…..testy testy…” you muttered.

“…..How about dinner? My treat.”He finally offered.

“Of course it’s your treat.” You snapped.

“Is that a yes?” He mused annoyed

“No. It’s a start.” you countered equally annoyed with his egotistical personality and hellbeast of a cat. Did he really think dinner would pacify you? Especially with his personality??

“Excuse me….? Whatever. May have a name as you seemed to imply this wouldn’t be the last time I see you.”

“Its ________ _________ and may I have the hellbeasts owners name?”

“(Sigh) It’s Kyouya. Kyouya Ootori”

“Well Kyouya I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow unfortunately.”You smirked.

“Oh no no no. The displeasure is all mine Miss. ______”

“Fine.”You smiled slightly.

“Fine.”He smirked back ending the call. Letting dial tone ring through your ear.

“What in the world will happen tomorrow?” You mused out loud.


A special AU for my 700 followers. i worked my butt off but still Thank you, Baby Cubs. (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

I love y’all. ≧◡≦

Xoxo~