giveaway prompt fill for forthesakeofyourwolvelihood
Derek takes Cora to the cheapest, most rundown diner in his neighbourhood, because she deserves it. She’s been bothering him about his love life for days now, while squatting on his couch and eating all his food. He doesn’t care that she says he owes her a nice meal for making sure he didn’t go out of his mind studying for his finals. He paid for his coffee himself, so it doesn’t really count. Reminding him that he needs to eat and sleep and shower isn’t really that much of an effort; that takes, like, five minutes every day. She doesn’t deserve a three-star restaurant.
She doesn’t, no matter how much of a stink-eye she’s giving him right now.
"Really, Derek?" she asks derisively, eyeing the shabby exterior of Coach’s Diner with disdain. “Really?”
"This dump looks like you get food poisoning just by looking at the food.”
She’s….kinda right. From the outside, the diner looks dirty and run down, and honestly, like tetanus waiting to happen. The windows are half-covered in graffiti where they aren’t splashed with plain old dirt, the sign looks like it’s one strong gust of wind away from falling on someone’s head and the people going in and out don’t really look like the most respectable crowd. Well, half of them are probably just poor college students and mostly harmless, but not exactly the most respectable kind. Derek’s never been inside, in fact, he’s always given it a wide berth, but he doubts it’s any better on the inside. Which is absolutely perfect, really.
Revenge is oh so sweet.
"Don’t judge a book by its cover," he says and pushes the door open.
Cora takes one glance at the interior - chairs that look like they’re gonna collapse, cut up upholstery in nearly every booth and tables that gleam with grease - and raises a very judgemental eyebrow.
Derek ignores her, finds the cleanest table, because he might be mean but he’s not crazy, and sits down. Cora slides in opposite of him, and keeps glaring at him until a waiter approaches their table.
Well. ‘Approach’ isn’t the most fitting term, Derek thinks. He skids, maybe because of the slippery floor, and only barely catches himself before barrelling into their table, arms flailing in an attempt to keep his balance. It looks oddly smooth, though, like it’s not the first time he’s done this.
"Welcome to Coach’s Diner,” he chirps. “I’m Stiles, how can I help you today?”
↳ Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.Happy International Women's Day!
Old Woman Josie and her friendly, helpful angel. Even though we all know angels don’t exist, as the Sheriff’s Secret Police all quietly, yet forcefully, remind us.
13 years and they’re still married
#if you wanted an ‘after all this time? always’ moment#this would be it (themaraudersaredead)
A brief summary of why I don’t like Severus Snape
since you’ve included the deathly hallows I have to deduct that your argument is invalid
Sorry I forgot that wanting to fuck Lily Potter makes up for being a terrible person!!!
Poor sweet Wilf, who is proud of never having killed a man and who is so reluctant to carry a weapon sees what the Doctor changes into. The Doctor, a man he admires and respects, committing genocide, lying and hurting people without blinking an eye. Wilf now understands why the Doctor is so reluctant to regenerate. He truly does die and turn into a different man.
"I try not to dwell on it. If I pictured how I’m going to die, I wouldn’t be able to fight."
Armin for Fran! Happy birthday!! ٩(๑•◡•๑)۶
harry james potter (deserves your respect & love)
(pt 1 because all my harry love cannot begin to be contained in one set of graphs. this boy went through a helluvalot and gave the same and damn you if you don’t adore him)
It was Hermione.
"But she didn’t look like Hermione at all. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material…” - Ch23 | THE YULE BALL
“The very first time I saw you Harry, I recognised you immediately. Not by your scar, by your eyes. They’re your mother Lily’s. Oh yes, I knew her. Your mother was there for me at a time when no one else was. Not only was she a singularly gifted witch, she was also an uncommonly kind woman. She had a way of seeing the beauty in others, even, and perhaps most especially, when that person couldn’t see it in themselves. Your father, James, however, had a certain, shall we say, talent for trouble. A talent, rumour has it, he passed onto you. You’re more like them than you know, Harry. In time you’ll come to see just how much.”