#oh and the pringles one oops

[weird-an]

Mrs. Richardson is one of these teachers that stare at Billy with a thoughtful look and ask him to stay after class to talk about his potential.

Billy brings home straight As, because failure gets punished with a belt and a tirade of insults Billy sometimes dreams about. Mrs. Richardson already sees him at an Ivy League school, ignoring how he owns like four shirts and fixed her husband's car at the garage just last week.

"What do you wanna do when you're 30?" She asks him. "If you could do anything with your life?"

Billy blinks. He doesn't think, he'll make it to 30. But he can't tell her that or she'll dig deeper and who knows what sad excuse of a town Neil finds - that might be worse than Hawkins.

"An apartment and a job that pays enough." is what he settles for.

She frowns at him. "What kind of job?"

"Whatever." Billy shrugs and he knows he should make up a stupid lie about how he's interested in tech or whatever shit, but he can't. He turns fucking 18 tomorrow and he won't get out of here, because Neil takes his paycheck whenever Billy gets it.

"I like working at the garage," he offers carefully.

She sighs. "I think you could go to college."

She hands him a bunch of flyers Billy throw away at home and starts a whole monologue about scholarships for kids that aren't well off. Billy chews on his bubble gum and pretends to listen while wondering if he should hide his next paycheck in a can of pringles.

After a few minutes, he's dismissed with a "Think about it! You're a really good student."

Harrington leans against the lockers, obviously waiting for him and stares at him with his big brown eyes reminding Billy of toffee. Billy isn't in the mood to fool around today. But he's kinda scared that Harrington will lose interest as soon as a busty girl hits on him, so he can't really afford to leave it be. Billy gives him a tiny nod. Their ... well, not so secret sign, but no one is around to see it anyways.

They drive to the quarry separately, like they always do when Harrington's parents are at home and they have to swap his waterbed against the backseat of their cars.

Billy is faster. Because Harrington is a pussy and sticks to the speed limit. Billy's halfway through his cigarette when Harrington slides on the passenger's seat next to him.

"What did Mrs. Richardson want from you?" He sounds genuinely interested. Harrington is good in getting what he wants. Tells Billy he's hot and good in bed to keep him in mood. Gives compliments without sounding dishonest. Billy eats it all up. Sweetener that tastes like sugar.

"She asked me what I wanna do when I'm 30." Billy watches the faint orange glint of his dying cigarette.

"And what do you want?" Harrington's gaze presses Billy a bit harder down in his seat.

Billy opens his mouth to tell Harrington the same stuff he told her, but instead he hears himself say "To not be dead and maybe even fucking happy."

Well. There goes the chance of getting fucked until he forgets about birthdays of any kind.

Harrington's hand is a bit cold against his own. His thumb presses against Billy's wrist.

"I'll never get out of here," Billy chokes out and the ash from his cig falls on his jeans. "He's... he's going to fucking kill me."

It's so overwhelming. It's like the end is already written and no matter what book Billy grabs, it's always the same shit on the pages.

One day Neil will get too drunk and Billy will die. One day Neil will get his gun and Billy will die. One day Neil won't do anything and Billy will die.

Billy doesn't want to die. He wants to fucking live and he can't. Not here in fucking Indiana.

"I'm moving out," Harrington says slowly. "Next month."

Billy blinks the tears away and wonders what the fuck Harrington is talking about.

"There's only one bed...," Harrington's voice is unsure, like he's afraid of... Billy's answer? "You would be welcome any time."

Billy stares at Steve and sees the same tears Billy tries not to cry in his eyes. What the fuck is Harrington on about?

"I want you to be fucking happy, too." Steve rubs his nose. "I... could get a second key."

"What about ... if you're like... hanging out with a chick?" Billy asks, surprised that he only sounds half as strangled as he feels.

Steve laughs wetly. "You're the only one I'm seeing."

Billy flicks the cigarette out of the window. He's only doing what all his instincts tell him to do. He cups Steve's face and his heart beats way too fast.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Harrington." He wouldn't survive that. To be offered a… way out and its all turning out to be a joke.

"It's Steve," Steve corrects and buries his hand in Billy's hair.

He isn't sure who is kissing who first, but they are kissing and crying and sobbing all at once.

"So will you come over?" Steve asks, a bit breathless.

"Until you kick me out," Billy says.

Maybe Billy will turn 30. Maybe he's got a real chance - a chance that walked into his life dressed like a preppy asshole, but Billy never had a good taste in men.

@harringroveweek

[23starii]

I think I almost fell in love with him!

Hinata Shouyo X Reader

Summary: Y/n curiously peeks at the boys' volleyball team after school. She quickly becomes infatuated by the short redheaded number ten after being pleasantly surprised and impressed by his fiery passion and show stopping jump.

Note: THIS IS INSPIRED BY THAT SCENE OF SAEKO'S FLASHBACK OF THE TINY GIANT I THOUGHT IT WAS SOOOO CUTEE

(Also, f/n= friends name/ o/f/n= other friends name!)

.

.

"I heard the schools volleyball team is really good this year."

"Oh yeah, the team is crazy!"

"I've been hearing so much about it.."

.

.

That was the third time today that y/n overheard a conversation about this year's volleyball team.

She couldn't lie. Her interest was piqued.

"Hey, y/n!" The familiar voice of f/n called. The girl swiftly turned her body to face her friend behind her.

"What's up?" She wonders.

"O/f/n and I are gonna skip out on club activities to hang outside of the gyms, wanna join?" F/n asks, giving y/n a grin to convince her further.

Y/n thought about it for a moment.

She hasn't skipped out in a while... and it's not like she'd be missing out on much. Club happened every day, after all.

"Hmm.. okay! I'll skip club with you guys!"

.

.

.

Y/n and her friends were goofing off behind one of the big karasuno gyms where there were most likely club activities going on.

Her friends giggled along to some stupid joke when suddenly y/n's stomach interupted the conversation with a loud grumble.

"Oh..oops" she laughs it off sheepishly before pushing her body upward from the floor the three of them had been sitting on.

"How about I get us some snacks from the gym?" She suggested.

"Ooo yess! Get me some shrimp chips and sour Pringles, please!"

"I think I'll just go with a banana milk, I already ate."

Y/n nodded at their requests and hoped her pockets wouldn't hurt after these purchases.

The girl made her way around the building to the side door where there was a small hallway containing a small storage cabinet and three huge vending machines for the students convince. Beside the vending machines was another exit that led right into the gym

She stepped into the tiny space when she noticed the loud smacking sounds coming from the gym.

Oh right..this is the volleyball gym, isn't it.

Upon her realization, y/n began scanning over the vending machines for her friends' desired snacks.

She began hearing yelling as well, words such as,

"Nice one!"

"Mine!"

And

"Next one!"

She thought nothing of it as she had seen many sports games play out before and heard the same yelling.

As she swiftly glided her fingers over the buttons of the vending machine in front of her, she remembered the conversations she had heard that morning.

"I heard the schools volleyball team is really good this year."

"Oh yeah, the team is crazy!"

"I've been hearing so much about it.."

That's when y/n decided to take a quick peek at the amazing new Karasuno Volleyball team she had heard so much about.

She quickly picked up her snacks and placed them in her bag before peeking her head sneakily around the opened sliding door, which led into the gym.

She watched as a tall raven-haired setter with a serious expression who was wearing her schools' colors tossed the multi-colored ball upwards when it was shot right at him from the other side of the court.

A tall, older looking male with long hair neatly tucked into a low bun jumped upwards and swung his arm, not hitting the ball.

Y/n was sure he would've hit it.. she was suddenly afraid the ball would touch the floor on their side of the court.

That's when a sudden blur of orange and black ran across the court like a deadly tornado. She couldn't even see his face until after he jumped so high it looked straight out of a slow motion scene in a sports movie.

The scene in front of her made her stomach do three backflips as she watched him swing his arm with such speed she couldn't even form a thought.

The moment was unlike anything she had ever seen before she didn't even realize how horribly the boy had missed the ball. She hadn't even heard it when it smacked against the gym floor.

Her attention was stolen from her by him.

She watched his upper body rise and fall, his eyes fixated on the ground as he panted, his expression a tough scowl, his fists clenched and the other team cheered.

"Hinata!" The rough voice of an older man brought her back to reality.

She looked over and noticed another boy with green hair standing nervously holding up a card.

The redhead trudged out of the court in a slow jog while the other boy anxiously made his way in. Number ten had been switched out.

The shorter male's name was called again by the older male.

"Hinata." This time it was less aggressive.

The shorter male walked over to the blonde man who y/n assumed was the coach.

She couldn't hear a word of what they were saying, but she couldn't look away.

She must have been watching the conversation for a whole minute before she quickly ducked back into the hall when the redhead "hinata" stomped in her direction.

She had no time to run out of the hall when he reached her.

She was afraid for some reason as if she had been doing something wrong, her heart rate increased so rapidly she could feel it in her throat, but when the boy staggered into the hallway, not even gifting her a glance, she knew he hadn't even noticed her.

She watched impatiently as the boy roughly slammed his head into the supply cabinets, making the structure shake.

She had to stiffle a laughter when a bucket which sat atop of the cabinet landed right on his head, making a loud "thud" then clashing against the floor.

Her smile faded when she saw he didn't even flinch.

His knuckles were white from how tightly his fingers clenched against his palm, his body shaking from frustration, y/n could hear his heavy breathing and the clicking of his lips.

He didn't take his forehead away from the cabinets cool surface for a single moment.

Then, y/n did something she thought was unbelievably brave of her.

"Um.." She spoke, fighting the urge to whisper as her voice trembled from her lips. His reaction was clear as day, he completely stiffened up, his fists clenching even more than y/n thought was possible.

He will surely bleed if he keeps that up..

The red head spinned around, his eyes landing on the girl who stood there, holding the silver bucket, which collided with his skull moments ago.

Y/n did not fail to notice that despite her surprising him, his eyes were sharp as hell. They held a power she never knew existed. He was much too determined to even acknowledge the situation in front of him for longer than 5 seconds.

Her heart swelled, and her words nearly choked her when she spoke again.

"You dropped this.."

[thedeluluverse]

Happy Valentine's Day! <3

Even if you are like me and are single as a Pringle today lol, it can still be a good day! Just remember that me and BTS love you hunnies!! <3 Please leave any feedback as I'm still very a new and nervous bean uwu XD

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you visited Jimin after rehearsal but so does he…oops!

Pairing:  idol!Jimin x F!reader, mentions of other members but nothing sexual happens.

Rating: 18+

Genre: idol!au, dating!au, smut, fluff, established relationship, one-shot

Word Count: 1,870

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Swearing, anxiety, explicit content, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), breast play, dirty talk, pet names, clit play, praise, neck kissing, some hair pulling, semipublic sexual acts, nibbling

It is 2 weeks before the iconic performance of BTS’s ‘Dionysus’ and your boyfriend Jimin Park is still at the stage even though rehearsals ended 2 hours ago. You only had a half day at work, so after some quick tidying around the house, you indulged in some long-overdue self-care. After an orange and wild berry scented bath, a refreshing Vitamin C facemask, and lathering a sweet honey-caramel scented lotion everywhere, you are glowing. You are starting to worry about your boyfriend still being out in the cold November air. Changing from your turquoise silk robe into a pair of comfy grey pajama shorts, your favorite blue cloud sweater, and white combat boots, you decide to stop by and check on him.

Rehearsal went as well as it could, for it was the first run-through on the stage rather than in their practice room for everyone except Jimin. Faced with his mortal enemy, chairs, it felt like he was back to day one of learning the choreography. While the rest of the members kept reassuring him, saying they had plenty of time to perfect everything, he was still embarrassed whenever he stumbled or fell off the chair. He only intended to stay for a half hour once everyone left. Still, his inner perfectionist took over, and the next thing he knew, it was 2 hours later. With the sun having set, the temperature dropped significantly.

He is so focused, in fact, that he doesn't realize you are there until you pipe up with a "Hello??? Earth to my Jimin-ssi!" He is startled, asking, "Oh hey, y/n, how long have you been standing there? You shouldn't be out here; it's freezing if you aren't under these lights." Crossing your arms, you raise an eyebrow glaring at him, "Lights or not, it is FREEZING!! What in the world are you still doing out here?" As you climb the steps onto the stage, he tries to explain himself, "Listen, don't give me that look. Please, babe." He sighs and looks at the ground sheepishly, confessing his struggles with the chairs that day. Your face softens, and your shoulders drop as you reach out and caress his cheek. "I understand, honey, and you can come back anytime you want in the next couple of weeks. Just please come home, I've been missing you all day, and I want cuddles," you say as you take his hands and give your best pout-puppy dog eye combo. He grins at how adorable you are, kisses your nose, and asks, "Can't I just stay 1 more hour?" You tilt your head, giving an annoyed look, and both attempt to convince the other to do what they say for 5 minutes.

            The wind picks up, and you shiver as you notice his face has changed from a pleading look to a smirking one. "Um, when did your flirt king side join the chat?"

You ask, confused. Chuckling, he steps towards you, stating, "Once, I caught your scent through the breeze just now. Hmmm… I wonder if you taste as good as you smell." He wonders as he tilts his head, holds his chin, and smirks. You are caught off guard by this change in demeanor and reply, "I..uh.. hold on! Your tricks aren't going to fool me tonight, Mr. Park, no, no, noooo... We are going home, and no flirting will make me change my mind. Let's go; practice is over." As you head towards the stairs, he lightly grabs your wrist, stands behind you as his hands land on your hips, and whispers into your ear, "Oh, I agree. Our staying here another hour has nothing to do with the performance. Like I said, I want to find out if you taste as good as you smell, darling."

Your eyes are wide as you try to maintain a regular breathing pattern. Having been so busy, you've barely spent time together lately, and today you had been intensely craving his touch. Hesitatingly you ask while turning around to meet his gaze, "b... but… aren’t we going to be caught?” your eyes scanning the area. He gives a very Cheshire cat-like grin, letting you know that he has been the only person there for hours and even has a key to lock up. "Not that I'd care otherwise. I just want you so bad right now, y/n." You stare at the ground biting your lip as you consider this proposition. You answer, "well, if you are 100% sure we are alone, then I gu-“your words are cut off by a deep kiss as he cups your face causing you to stumble backward into the prop table. Mutual giggles echo throughout the late-night air and are quickly replaced with passionate kissing and light moans as your hands travel around each other's bodies. As your hands knock off his hat and dishevel his hair with one of his hands on the small of your back and the other wrapped around your ponytail, giving it a slight tug, you break the kiss to catch a breath.

            Looking concerned, he asks, "Are you okay? Was that too much?". Your lust-filled gaze meets his as you shake your head; panting, you say, "No, I'm fine. I just wanted to say that I'm down.". Surprise overtaking his features, he says, "wait, really?!?!". You laugh at his reaction and drape your arms around his neck as you kiss from his neck up to his jawline between words, "don't. make. me. ask. again." smiling against his skin. He lifts you onto the table, grinning, saying, "whatever you want, princess." "Oh, thank god," you exclaim, confessing, "I've been craving you all week, Mochi."

Laying you down, he hovers over you, sliding his hands under your sweater, grabbing your breasts, and teasing your nipples. "Well, that makes two of us, sweetheart," as he leans down and nibbles your earlobe making your breath hitch.

He leaves a trail of kisses down your neck before pulling down your bra, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples before working his way to the drawstring of your shorts. As he unties the bow, he gives teasing pecks on your clothed cunt, making you whimper, losing patience. This elicits a chuckle as he remarks, "Looks like my little slut is eager now, isn't she?" you exhale in frustration. "Yes. Yes, I am, please… I’m aching for you…”.

Following that confirmation of neediness,  he pulls down your shorts and lacy underwear with a fierceness you had never seen before. He widens your legs as he barely grazes your clit with his fingers tracing down your pussy. "Damn baby, already so wet for me," he boasts as he slowly slides two fingers in and out. Then, covering your lips with his as his tongue gives light flicks to your clit, gradually increasing the speed along with his hand. You grip the sides of the table as you press yourself into his face, loudly moaning, "fuck baby, just like that!" you say while trying to breathe. Feeling you pulse around his fingers, signaling you are close to your climax, he removes his fingers and slightly nibbles at your inner thighs. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you look puzzled and remark, "Um, Hun, I  didn't  say evacuate…." He smirks and says, "Oh, I know, trust me." Before you can reply, he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face stating, "I wanted to make sure I didn't miss a drop, my love."

After giving a few passes along the length of your heated core, his tongue explores every inch of your pussy. Taking great care to lap up every drop of moisture, not wanting to waste any of your preciousness. Having made you cum a few times already, he decides to turn it up a notch. Maintaining rhythm, he pushes on your lower abdomen, circling your sensitive clit with his thumb making you practically leap off the table. Your body has finished shaking from your final climax, and Jimin places a soft kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself. Your limbs collapse against the table as your breathing slowly returns to normal, and you get dressed. In the meantime, Jimin takes great care wiping off and cleaning the prop before you head home.

The next day rolls around, and you sleep in because between it being your day off and the events of last night, you plan on not doing much of anything right now. Jimin, however, had to get up early to get a quick workout before meeting everyone else at the stage for rehearsal. His anxiety spikes as soon as he gets there due to flashbacks of last night and paranoia. The worry is that they will be able to tell (or smell) that something happened mixes into an uncomfortable cocktail of emotions which causes him to do even worse today. Everyone else notices and checks on him, very confused since he said he stayed late last night practicing the choreography. He laughs it off, saying, "yeah, I did. I just uh… didn't get sleep well." At this very moment, you show up with hot chocolate and Yeontan for all the warmth and serotonin since it is brutal outside.    

You place the drinks and the dog on the table, handing the leash to Jin while you hand out the beverages. Yeontan starts feverishly sniffing the table (cue heart attack for poor Chim Chim). After about 10 seconds, Taehyung remarks, "That's weird. He normally doesn't investigate an area that long." Jin immediately bends down to try and assess the reason for this abnormal behavior. He informs everyone that the staff must've super cleaned the prop due to the wind being wild lately because it has a strong cleaning product smell. Tae promptly moves Yeontan to the ground before he licks the chemical residue. Jimin lets out the biggest exhale in his life. With this reassurance that y'alls secret is safe, his confidence returns and nails the routine.

As you drive back to the house, you cannot help but ask him why he was acting so weird and fidgety. He tells you about his irrational fear, and you cackle in response because you know he did a better job cleaning up after the fun than he does his own house most times. In response, he pouts as he faces the window and crosses his arms, upsettingly saying, “Aish, it's not funny, y/n-ah!! I was terrified all day!!". Even though it technically was his idea, you apologize and reassure him that you won't bring it up again. He feels guilty that he snapped at you, so then turns back to face you, saying, "It's fine. I'm sorry. I don't regret it one bit and would do it again in an instant if given a chance," as he smirks and grabs your thigh.

Grinning, you blush as you pull into the driveway and say, "No objections here. First, though, I think you could use some stress relief". You raise an eyebrow and leave a quick kiss on his cheek before exiting the car as he remains in shock for a moment before running inside to accept your offer for fear you will change your mind.

[live-from-flaturn]

Meme-sterpost

All my goofy memes, textpost edit collections, and videos in one convenient location!

Previously known as viva-yas-vegas

KinnPorsche: The Series

Traditional Memes:

Part 1 (I watched all of KP in one day and then made these around 4am)

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Jeff Satur Roast/CoconutGate Meme Dump (KP:WT Goodbye Memes)

Videos:

Kimhan Possible 

Mmmm Whatcha Chay 

Fruit on the Bottom (Chris Fleming sketch)

Suite Life of Porsche and Pete

Chay’s Face Journey (feat. a solitary orange Skittle)

If You're Into It (VegasPete)

Wuju Bakery (but it’s a KimChay coma dream)

Aspiring Popstar Younger Brother (:28)

Kim is Bad Boy

Meow Mix

No Strings on Me (KimChay)

Kim’s the Best Bitch

KinnPorsche as Vines 1

KinnPorsche as Vines 2

Porchay the Vampire Slayer Theme

What's New Scooby Don't?

Chaylor Moon Theme

Lucid/KP Reincarnation Trailer Edit

KinnPorsche: The Memesical

Loathing (KinnPorsche)

I Won't Say I'm in Love (KimChay)

Dead Girl Walking (VegasPete)

I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair (KimChay)

Textposts:

Part 1

Part 2

More Textposts

And Still More Textposts

Part Infinity

VegasPete Textposts

KimChay Textposts

KimChay Part 2: Electric Taser-oo

Tiny Meat Gang Lyrics

Bonus KimChay Textposts

KinnPorsche Textposts Again

KinnPorsche?? Again???

Oh Hey, Look! KinnPorsche! (the final textpost collection)

A Vegas Style Buffet (contributed by user: vegasandhishedgehog)

KP Giftpost (contributed by user: vegasandhishedgehog)

Kinn: The Porsche-ening

Whose KinnPorsche is it Anyway? (Party Quirks prompts)

KinnPorsche Whose Line: Pt. 2

KinnPorsche/Whose Line Finale

Oops... More KinnPorsche

Tea’s B-Day KimChay Memes

in honor of pride month

Rough Day? KinnPorsche Textposts

KP Onion Headlines (P1)

KP Onion Headlines (P2)

Misc:

RIP Khun Spikes

Ceci n’est pas une Gun

KimChay Twilight au Moodboard

Jeff's Maniacal Dance Skills

Love in the Air

Traditional Memes:

Part 1

Bottom Text Sky Memes (feat. the Luffy Cosplay)

Textposts:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Continued...

Special Episode

Gifs:

The Cursed Payu Pringle-Fingering

His Wiggles (feat. Boss)

Saifah’s Had Enough

Misc:

Recreation of Sky’s “What the Duck” shirt from Ep. 10 (you can buy this if you want, I have one)

���Bad Boy’ Top Storage Unit

The Daddy Couch

Payu (All the wifies say I’m pretty fly for a bi guy)

Between Us

Textposts:

Part 1

Part 2

WinTeam Texposts

Tommentary with @a-thomas-named-tommy

(in which my cishet guy friend, Tommy, reacts to my bad explanations of various BL and GL shows)

Between Us (2022)/Until We Meet Again (2019)

Meow Ears Up (2022)

[flufallo]

Aaaaa thanks for the taggggg

Last song: cloud above my head

Favourite colour: any shade of a lighter blue (I don't know any names Oop)

Currently watching: dead boy detectives (obviously) BBC ghosts and Sherlock and co (technically I'm listening to this one but oh well)

Spicy/ savory/ sweet: sweet and savory

Relationship status: single like a Pringle even though there's loads of pringles in a tube that phrase makes no sense? Also I'm like the song "fictional men" by peggy but add women as well lmao.

Current obsession: dead boy detectives, Joshua colley (his voice is so calming even when he's talking about death and his singing voice is the best) Jackson's diary, BBC ghosts, Julie and the phantoms, and monty the crow (my son)

@ceaselesswwatch3r @starssecondaccount @idioticeliza @sillypookiewookieskay @samsayswhatever and anyone else how do people have so many Moots???

Nine people i'd like to get to know better:

Tagged by: @bell-of-indecision, thank you so much for tagging me <3

Last Song: Gmfu by Odetari,6arelyhuman

Favourite colour: Dark red, violet, pink

Currently watching: Death note, ep6

Spicy/Savoury/Sweet: Spicy

Relationship status: Single

Current Obsession: Mbti types and cognitive functions.

Tagging: @somin-yin @a-cloud-for-dreams @axepen @hinsaa-paramo-dharma @basic-bitch-alkali @rhysaka @blackknight-100 @squishywizardd @reykalot

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

this is a repeat after me song

“That’s my Dad’s Jeep!” Ciri declares, pointing at one of the larger vehicles lined up against the sidewalk. Jaskier scoops her up into his arms, grabs her backpack, and carries her towards the dark, navy-blue Jeep with the lifted tires. He’d usually roll his eyes at something like that but Ciri has told him time and time again that her Dad needs a big car for his big, scary job. 

He approaches the passenger door and watches the window roll down to reveal the most handsome man he’s ever seen in his 26 years of life. “Oh uh, hi there Mr. deRiv! I’m Ciri’s counselor. I don’t normally carry my students but someone-” he bounces the sprightly girl in his arms and she giggles innocently “-decided to fall out of a tree today and her knee isn’t feeling too well, is it?”

Ciri shakes her head, her ash-blonde hair flying directly into Jaskier’s mouth. He pulls the strands free and shoots her father an apologetic look. 

“I’m really sorry. I know she shouldn’t have been in the tree in the first place, but I turned around for two seconds and that was long enough.”

“I call her my Squirrel for a reason,” replies a deep, gravelly voice. If Jaskier were not holding a child in his arms he would have collapsed to the ground immediately. “Get in the car, cub. We’re going to have to schedule an x-ray at your mother’s office.”

“It’s not broken!” Jaskier adds quickly. “I checked myself. Just a little sprain, maybe some bruising. No breaks, though. I’ve had enough of those to tell.”

“Hairline fractures,” Mr. deRiv supplies just as quickly, “Don’t really show up during pressure tests.”

“Fair enough,” Jaskier shrugs, allowing Ciri to scuttle from his arms into her booster seat. He puts her bright-blue backpack under her feet and closes the door for her. She rolls her own window down and sticks her head out. 

“Dad thinks you’re cute! He and my Mom never got married, so he’s single like a Pringle!”

“Uh...” Jaskier blushes, glancing quickly between his favorite student (don’t tell the others) and her father, whose face is equally pink. All the way to the tips of his handsome, handsome ears. He runs a hand down the back of his neck and chuckles anxiously, “Cool. He’s uhm, he’s pretty cute, too.”

“Nice!” Ciri cheers. “You should give him your number like the ladies at the gym!”

“Ciri,” her father shakes his head. “That’s enough.”

“Oops. I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Oh, well. See you tomorrow, Mr. Jaskier! I won’t climb any trees, I promise.”

“Or stone walls? Or buildings? Or the roof of the big yellow slide?”

“Or those either.”

“Hands up!” Jaskier orders. Ciri holds up two crossed fingers and giggles behind her other hand. He shakes a finger at her in mock disapproval. “I knew it! Anyway, sorry about her injury. Give me a call if she can’t come to camp tomorrow, Mr. deRiv.”

“It’s not your fault; she climbs everything that’s taller than her. Thanks for keeping an eye the little Squirrel anyway,” the white-haired man smiles. “And call me Geralt.”

“Jaskier.”

“Well, Jaskier,” Ciri’s father blushes again. “See you tomorrow for drop-off.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

[mira--mira]

Oh it's hard to remember the emojis bc it's 3 am but...

☃, ❣️, ❤️, ❄️, ♦️

Ehehe SAFE TRAVELS! 😊

Go to sleep, get some rest! 💖 And thank you!!

⛄ short/tall

I am...small 😂 5'2 (158 cm? I already forgot the conversion from the other answer oops haha)

❣️ ideal date?

Hmm probably going to a plant nursery? Or an antique store? This is more of a first date, but can be applied others in various ways bc it kind of gives me a "goal" -- find an interesting plant/object but still facilitates a lot of conversation and natural topics instead of staring at someone and going through an ice breaker list and hoping something connects. Plus it leaves the possibility open of buying each other something small and I think that's really cute and romantic to have something embody the idea "I was thinking about you, I hope you like this." Gift-giving is one of my love languages if that's not obvious from this haha!

❤️ single/taken?

Aaand too bad I'm single as a pringle 😂 I'll just have to write about cute little dates instead of going on them 😅

❄️ any sports?

Nah. I try to do yoga and exercise a bit, I dream of one day having strong muscular arms instead of my current noodles, but I don't play any sports. I did play basketball in middle school, but I wasn't very good and my career ended after I jumped in front of one girl and we both went down hard lol.

♦️ ever had alcohol?

Yes, but I'm not a big drinker. I hate the taste of alcohol alone and I get really bad headaches from only a few sips. The only drink in general I'm able to stand is vodka and only with the ratio of 1/8 vodka 7/8 pure lemon juice 😂

[amour393]

Oh what's that me doing something for my other otp because it's valentines and I'm a single pringle

Amourshipping stuff. Happy Vday

1. Serena. Her love language is totally gift giving and I think anytime she she's something she thinks Ash would like she buys it

2. Ash. I bet he just falls asleep when they cuddle or watch movies

3. Ash. He just forgets, okay?

4. Honestly, it varies. Ash is super protective so he'll definitely want Serena to get sleep, but then again Ash would also stay up training until sunrise, and Serena would absolutely not want him getting sick from not sleeping.

5. Ash burns everything but Serena's got it under control

6. Serena is the "oh that's us!!" and Ash is the "eh, not really"

7. Serena obviously steals his clothes all the time.

8. Both run errands a lot, but Ash would absolutely forget the one thing Serena told him to make sure he got. Oops

9. Ash drives, Serena gives directions

10. Quote Ash Ketchum: "Serena draw me like one of your Kalos girls" immediately followed by Serena saying "Ash, get off the counter."

11. Ash would totally backflip over the lasers. Serena would stroll behind.

12. Neither of them drink, at least not enough for it to be a problem

13. Serena gets Ash stuff because, again, her love language is gift giving

14. "Hi I'm Serena Ketch- I MEAN YVONNE SERENA YVONNE HAHA WERE THOSE WEDDING BELLS NOPE I DON'T HEAR A THING"

15. Ash takes the spider outside because he thinks they're cool. Serena freaks out.

16. Ash gives Serena his jacket, obviously.

17. Well neither of them have an older sibling, but I get the vibe that once Brock everyone meets Serena they're all like "Ash you better treat her right"

18. Serena. Duh.

19. They are the bEST PARENTS like Serena is the protective mom but Ash totally helps her relax and let the kids be adventurous and stuff! They can be a bit overprotective but a simple "but Dad remember when you were my age!" and they can get away with a lot.

20. Serena texts with perfect grammar and Ash uses numbers

21. Neither of them strike me as the type to get bullied, but both of them would definitely stick up for anyone who does.

22. Ash Ketchum I'm sorry did you mean KING OF DAD JOKES

23. Ash would absolutely bring in any pokemon from the rain and Serena would just sigh and be like "another?"

24. Tbh, I think both do this.

25. Again, both do this. Though Serena is probably the less vocal supporter of the two, that doesn't mean she supports him any less. Ash on the other hand screams like a 40yo soccer mom

26. Serena takes the best selfies and you can't change my mind

27. Serena gives the makeovers, definitely

28. Neither of them are scared of the other's pokemon. Though I bet some of Serena's new pokemon get jealous of Ash from time to time

29. Ash totally holds the umbrella because Serena is shorter than him

30. Dream vacation would probably be to Alola, hanging out on the beach and chilling.

[hazelandglasz]

The Very Bad Week, Part 2

By popular demand, I’m continuing this self pleasing little nugget

As far as Blaine is concerned, this week has been a week.

Nothing remarkable about it, a succession of routines that have lead him to this Friday twilight.

He has nothing special planned for the week-end, except maybe go dog-watching at the park if the weather allows.

Blaine is not ecstatic, but he’s not miserable either and that’s a win, in his and in Ms. Ylea’s books.

To celebrate his, um, unmiserableness, Blaine went to the store and decided to let the Fates decide what kind of snacks he would get to watch his National Geographic show – slash – guilty pleasure.

Oh, Sweet and Spicy Pringles? Sounds like something that would remind him of his aunt’s Lutong Bisaya (from far, far away anyway).

“Noooooooooooooo!”

O-kay then, not a good omen.

Blaine slowly turns to face the person who really just screamed like a banshee and.

Well.

Blaine’s savior complex kicks in at the sight of the anguish on the man’s face, but it’s a little bit eclipsed as the “oh my god wow” settles in.

Because underneath the anguish and the end of the day unsettlement, the man who is now approaching Blaine like *he* is the skittish wild animal is frankly gorgeous.

Not now, brain. Very bad timing.

“Excuse me,” the man starts, getting close enough that Blaine can see the color of his eyes.

What do you know, it matches the lapel of his jacket, impressive.

Blaine likey.

“I’m sorry for my admittedly weird behavior,” the man continues, words tripping over his tongue. Blaine can only smile at him, hopefully putting him at ease, “but I had a very bad week, and it’s my favorite snack, and–”

“It’s okay,” Blaine cuts in, his mind made. It’s not a very hard decision to make after all: he just wanted to try the snack; on the other hand, this man looks to be on the verge of a meltdown, and that would be a disgrace. “I’ve been there.” Oh boy has Blaine ever. Just last week he nearly sobbed of relief after finding half a frozen bitten pint of salted caramel pretzel ice cream from Auntie Maud’s kitchen. “Take it.”

“R-really?”

Yep, that’s hope and despair all rolled into one beautiful package of a man, one that Blaine would love to take home and protect forever.

But that would be insane.

Wouldn’t it?

As he hands over the can of Pringles, Blaine’s fingers brush against the stranger’s. Blaine has never been one for believing in reincarnations and soulmates, as hopelessly romantic as he may be, but the tingles that travel through his fingers to his neck are undeniable.

It’s like …

Like his body is remembering the man’s touch from a past life.

The man still looks unsure about it, even as he takes his beloved Pringles. Blaine has to, he has to soothe his fears.

“I just wanted to try it, but it can wait,” Blaine explains, barely stopping him in time before he reaches out to pat the man’s shoulder. “You need them.” Obviously.

Seriously, the man looks he’s on the verge of tears.

That’s it, Blaine has to do something. “Hey.”

The man looks back at Blaine, and there is a wet shine in those blue eyes that only precede tears. “Hm?”

“Are you–“ Blaine shakes his head, trying to rephrase. “Clearly you’re not okay, but are you, you know, okay?”

The man takes a deep breath before a river of words come out. “I’ve been having a hard time, I miss my dad, Ohio is too far, my friends are all busy and I don’t want to be a burden …”

Hold on. Blaine needs to stop that logorrhea before it devolves into a panic attack, and he just heard the right angle. “You’re from Ohio?”

That stops the man in his tracks. “Lima.”

Blaine can’t help but beam at the Pringles Aficionado. “Westerville.”

“No way.”

“Way.”

They exchange a smile, wrapped in a bubble of space and time that Blaine never wants to leave. “My name is Blaine.”

Blaine has been raised right, he offers his hand to shake in greetings with his …. His what? His soulmate? His new best friend, sorry Wes?

Never mind.

Pringles Addict looks down at Blaine’s hand like no one has ever offered to shake his hand before taking it. “Oh. K-Kurt.”

Kurt. That suits him.

Even though Blaine knows close to nothing about the man, he just knows that Kurt, strtaight to the point, elegant, giving slightly European vibes, yes, Kurt is a name that suits the man shyly smiling at him.

“Nice to meet you, Kurt,” Blaine says warmly. “I hope that the Pringles will do the trick,” he adds for good measure. Now would be the good time to leave and let Kurt treat himself to the Pringles to soothe away the ache of this week. Blaine can’t resist, though, and he winks at Kurt before walking away.

Hold on. He was supposed to get a snack, wasn’t he?

Oh, flavored popcorns, now there’s an idea.

Oh! Sour Cream N Chives popcorn? Now that’s definitely out of the box.

Sour Cream N Chives Popcorn it is then.

“Blaine!”

Blaine practically spins on the spot to face Kurt once more.

The dizziness he experiences may not entirely be blamed on his antics.

“Really,” Kurt says, taking a step closer to Blaine and wow, those pale freckles look adorab—

What is wrong with him.

Oops, can of worms.

But Blaine’s thoughts are not heard by Kurt, and the other man continued. “You have been kinder than I could expect any stranger to be, that—that means a lot.”

“I’m glad I could show you some kindness today,” Blaine says, while his brain runs like a hamster in its wheel, specifically about showing Kurt kindness every hour of every day, given the chance.

“Do you—,” Kurt starts, before biting his lips and looking away.

Dammit, that shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

“Yes?”

Kurt looks back at him. “Doyouwanttohangoutsometimes, oh God, thatwasawkward, I’m so sorry.”

“Kurt?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t quite catch your words, except for the sorry at the end.”

Kurt sighs, closing his eyes. Blaine waits patiently for him to get his bearings (and adds a bag of marshmallows to his purchase, because while he does want to add an element of surprise in his routine, marshmallows are comfortable and comforting).

“I asked if you, um,” Kurt starts, more slowly this time, “if maybe you would like to hang out. With me. Sometimes. We could—eurgh,” Kurt cuts himself off, racking his hand in his hair. “You seem like an interesting, decent man and I had this urge to not let you go just yet.”

“Oh.”

“Sounds crazy?”

“Sounds like nothing I’ve heard before,” Blaine admits. Truth be told, it is the sweetest thing someone has ever said to him.

Not taking into consideration David’s drunken admittance that “he wished he was gay for Blaine”, especially since Blaine pinky swore never to bring it up again.

Ahem.

“I won’t bother you any longer, you’ve already been more than gentle with me,” Kurt says, turning around.

“Wait!”

Kurt does stop, looking over his shoulder.

Blaine’s heart is trying to escape his ribcage, but that’s fine. “If you’re interested, I know a shortcut to a little park where we could share our snacks and you could tell me more about your very bad week?”

Kurt’s face lights up, and just for that sight, Blaine would …

He would…

Well, he would do whatever it took to bring that look on Kurt’s face.

But Blaine is getting ahead of himself, isn’t he?

(TBC?)

[cynicalclassicist]

TURN BACK

Written by Chris Newton

This isn’t mine but was done by another of the Lockdown writers who very kindly sent it to me.

There it was again: that fluttering, rattling, scuttling noise. It sounded like grasping pincers, snapping mandibles and probing antennae. It felt like something was on her back. For some reason, it was an oddly familiar sensation. 

Donna Temple-Noble knew that things had not been right for a while. 

Things were fine in her life. After a decade of marriage, both she and Shaun were still very happy and very much in love. They had been determined that their big lottery win wouldn’t change them and, for the most part, it hadn’t. They lived in a ten bedroom mansion Highgate with two acres of land, owned a holiday villa in Spain, and had been able to afford to send Joshua and Ella to an incredibly expensive private school – but otherwise, they still went to watch West Ham every Saturday (albeit in their own executive box), still kept in touch with all their old friends (even Nerys), and eschewed fancy restaurants and glitzy parties in favour of Friday nights in on the sofa watching Love Island and eating Pringles. 

But something was wrong with the world. Her high school boyfriend, Mathew Richards, had always been going on about global warming back in the 90s, but as far as Donna had been concerned somebody was always banging on about the end of the world, whether it was the Millennium Bug, or Mayan calendars or Hadron Colliders… But what did that have to do with her life? She could hardly see which type of milk she put in her tea affected the wider world. 

But things began to get so bad that even Donna noticed. On her eighty-inch TV, she saw bush fires in Australia, David Attenborough showing the ice caps melting and an ocean filled with plastic. And then the Sontaran virus came – the lockdowns, the curfews, and the restrictions. But not even a global pandemic could prevent the USA from imploding in a civil war. The Zygon president had attempted to form a dictatorship when he lost the election and all hell had broken loose. 

Donna knew they were lucky, they were far away from the fighting and they could afford regular deliveries of fresh food, and had a huge garden with their own private swimming pool to occupy them in quarantine. The first lockdown had almost been like a holiday for the Temple-Nobles; the kids cannon balling into the water, Donna and Shaun sunning themselves on loungers, barbeques, cocktails. Their autumn lockdown consisted of bonfires and marshmallows, thick jumpers and flasks of hot chocolate as they told ghost stories on Halloween and twirled sparklers on Bonfire Night. It was almost perfect.

Almost… But not. Because for all the comfort their money could buy them, there was one problem wealth could not solve. 

Donna’s Grandfather, Wilf, was now ninety-one. A few years ago, after a fall, had moved into a care home. Donna made sure he received the best care possible, and paid for him to go to a lovely facility just near Hampstead Heath, that way they were practically neighbours. Before the virus, she had visited him every day without fail. His memory had been growing steadily worse; sometimes he called her Sylvia, and occasionally Louise, for some reason, but he never forgot that she was his granddaughter, and more than not greeted her by saying ‘Wahey, here she is! The Little General!’ which had been his nickname for her when she was little. 

But since lockdown, she had been unable to visit him. She knew it was for the best, for the safety of her grandfather and for the other residents in the home, but it didn’t change the fact that it felt as though a huge part of her had been ripped away. His dementia had worsened, the staff had told her over the phone, and he had been repeatedly talking about a spaceman in a flying blue box. 

She had managed to arrange a videocall with her grandfather, a favour from one of the nurses at the home. She sat waiting for him to answer, full of fear and trepidation. Always wondering which visit would be the one where he failed to recognise her entirely. 

“Wahey, here she is! The Little General!” Wilf’s face filled the screen of her phone. 

“Hiya Gramps!” Donna’s eyes welled with tears of joy at the sight of her grandfather. 

“Blimey, how’d you get inside this little tablet thingy?” he chuckled.  “Must be bigger on the inside,” he muttered with a strange, faraway look in his rheumy eyes, as though he were trying to remember something. 

“You don’t half come out with some rubbish!” she laughed. “We had a bonfire in the garden on the 5th. You know, jacket potatoes in tin foil, passing round a thermos of tea. Reminded me of the old days, up the hill at your allotment, remember?”

“Mmmm,” he smiled distantly, before his face crumpled in confusion. “’Ere, where’s the Doctor?”

“You’ve already seen the doctor, Gramps. Remember? He put you on those new pills.”

“No, not him. The skinny one. Isn’t he with you? He usually is.”

“Why would he be with me you daft old thing? I’m fit and healthy, thank you very much. Touch wood,” she tapped her head. “Don’t need a doctor.”

“I think you do,” Wilf mumbled. “I think we all do. He’d sort out this bleedin’ virus.”

“They’ll have a vaccine before you know it, Gramps. You’ll be round ours for Christmas dinner, just you wait and see.”

“That’ll be nice,” he grinned. “How’s Lance, then? He alright?”

“Shaun, granddad, I’m married to Shaun. Lance… had to go away.”

“Oh. Well, it’s probably for the best. I never did like him much.” 

Donna couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“The kids want these flippin’ animatronic Baby Yoda dolls for Christmas,” she changed the subject. “Honestly, it’s Star Wars this, Star Trek that… and that other one. You know, the time travel one? No idea where they get it from, I was never into any of that sci-fi rubbish.” 

“Donna…” Wilf cried, a sudden urgency in his voice.

“Yes, Gramps?” she swallowed nervously, it had been a long time since he had called her by her name. “What is it?”

“There’s something on your back.”

The words chilled her, although she had no idea what they meant. She felt her right hand darting involuntarily over her shoulder expecting to feel… what, exactly? Something creeping, crawling, insectoid… she shivered. 

“There’s nothing there. Honestly, what are you on about?”

“He was only trying to help, but it’s gone wrong again. It wasn’t a fixed point, you see? It was one of those… Temporal wotsits.”

Donna took a deep breath.

“I think you’re getting mixed up again, Gramps.”

“Hmm?” he looked at her, his eyes full of warmth, kindness and confusion. “So how’s Lance, then? He alright?”

“Yes, Gramps. Lance is fine.”

“Oh, that’s good. I always liked him. Oh, I’ve got to go. The nurse wants her tablet back. When are you coming to see me?”

“As soon as I can, Gramps. I promise. As soon as I can.”

“Well, I’ll look forward to it. Ta-da sweetheart.”

“Bye,” she stifled a tear as the screen became blurry, before Wilf’s face was replaced by a blonde-haired woman.

“Donna Noble!” the stranger grinned irrepressibly 

“Oh, hi,” Donna swiftly composed herself. “Are you the nurse? Thanks so much for letting me speak to him…”

“Yeah. Well, I’m a Doctor, actually. Although a lot of people assume I’m a nurse these days. Bit annoying, really. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a nurse, mind! If it’s good enough for Rory Pond, it’s good enough for me.”

The blonde woman was still grinning.

“Oh my god,” Donna’s mouth fell open. “I know you!”

“No! No – that’s not possible!” The Doctor’s face paled.

“I knew I recognised you.”

“Listen to me – you cannot know who I am…”

“You’re Leanne Battersby. From Corrie!”

“What?”

“Ha! Just wait ’til I tell Nerys, she’ll be well jealous.” Donna snorted.

The Doctor harrumphed. 

“Leane Batt… Actually, you know what? If it stops your neural receptors from combusting then fine. Fine! Yeah. Leanne Battersby at your service. If you think I’m just an actress from Coronation Street then it’s safe for us to talk. Well, I say safe… safe-ish. By which I mean not very dangerous. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit dangerous. Put it this way: your mind won’t burn, but you might end up forgetting your old mate Susie Mair.”

“Susie Who?”

“Exactly. Anyway, we don’t have long… I need to get back in Wilf’s wardrobe before the Sontarans triangulate my signal. I’m telling you, this has been a long eight months. But your grandfather’s right: there is something on your back. Again. Or maybe for the first time – it all gets a bit wibbley with alternate dimensions. But there’s something on your back, and I’m really sorry, but it hitched a ride on a lottery ticket.”

“What on Earth are you on about?”

“Not on Earth, actually, Shan Shen,” the Doctor said, and then winced. “Oops! Shouldn’t have said that. Might have deleted another scene. Remember that time you were one the phone to Veena in the kitchen and you heard that strange wheezing, groaning sound coming from outside?”

“No?”

“Probably for the best.”

“What’s going on? And why are you in my Granddad’s wardrobe? Do I need to call social services, ’cause don’t think I won’t, blondie!”

“I need you to trust me. What was the name of that TV show where the kid in the blindfold had to be guided through the dungeon by their mates?”

“Knightmare?” 

“Yes! That’s the one. I need you to be my Dungoneer. I don’t have a Helmet of Justice so you’ll just have to close your eyes.”

“Close my eyes??” 

“I know I’m asking a lot, Donna, but Wilf trusts me, and that’s all I can tell you. But be honest – you know something’s wrong, don’t you? You can feel something digging into your shoulders, can’t you?”

Donna nodded. There was no denying it, and for some inexplicable reason, she felt she could trust this woman, even though the reason seemed distant and out of reach. Donna closed her eyes. 

The strange woman on the phone guided her out of the house, past a row of trees and to the telephone box at the end of the road. Funny, Donna thought, she didn’t remember there being a telephone box there. She hadn’t seen a proper one for years. 

Following the Doctor’s instructions, Donna pulled the handle and the door creaked open as she stepped inside. Instinctively, she reached out for the mounted payphone, but her fingers met only empty air. Perhaps it wasn’t an operating phone box anymore? It probably housed a defibrillator instead. She was tempted to have a peek and find out.

“Don’t even think about opening your eyes,” the Doctor snapped, somehow reading her thoughts, “if you open your eyes, your brain will hyperpodulate.”

“Hyer-what-you-what? I want you to know I’m taking a lot on faith here, Battersby! And if this is a wind-up, then so help me god...” 

Donna’s threat was drowned out the VROOP-VROOPING of ancient engines that at once sounded utterly alien and distantly familiar to her, like hearing a half-remembered nursery rhyme from childhood. 

She heard the telephone box door creak open again, and a rush of cold air from outside. Strange, it didn’t feel like the smoky air of the November street she had come from. It felt crisper, fresher. She could hear the merry peal of church bells. There isn’t a church that close to my house, she thought, puzzled.

“You can come out now. Walk forwards but keep your eyes closed for a moment.”

Donna did as she was told. She felt grass beneath her feet as the VROOP-VROOPING resumed and then faded, drowned out by the sound of the bells. 

“You can open you eyes now,” the woman on the phone was now stood in front of her, but that was the least surprising thing to Donna. 

“But, how…” Donna looked down at herself. “I’m in my wedding dress. I don’t understand?” The two of them were stood by an old lychgate. Donna looked ahead – there was the church where she had married Shaun. Discarded confetti swirled about her ankles. There were guests milling about ahead – there was her grandfather’s friend Minnie Hooper. Minnie the Menace he used to call her! Although Donna was sure she’d heard that Minnie had died recently. Nevertheless, there she was, full of joy and life. And there was Nerys in her hideous peach dress! 

“What year is this?” asked Donna.

“2010,” said the Doctor.

“This is my wedding day. How is this even possible?”

“The time differential’s trying to reconcile there being two of you here at the same time. Hence the dress. It’s tricky with parallel universes. Anyway, ‘how’ isn’t important right now. What’s important is that somebody just gave you a lottery ticket as a wedding present.”

“I know, cheapskate.” 

“You’re about to win a triple rollover.” 

“Yeah, well…” 

“The thing is, Donna – the man gave you that ticket – he meant well, but he was meddling with things that shouldn’t have been meddled with. He was young – still in his Time Lord Victorious phase.”

“I don’t understand a single word you’re saying.”

“You know that theory that a butterfly fluttering its wings can cause a hurricane on the other side of the world? Well, time’s like that. Small, trivial things can cause ripples which alter the course of history. The truth is: you didn’t win that money. At least, not originally. You took one look at that ticket and ripped it up. Remember? The first dance at your wedding reception was Can’t Buy Me Love.”

“No… that’s not right,” said Donna. It couldn’t be. She knew that hadn’t happened. Their first dance had been 2 Become 1 by Spice Girls. So why could she remember dancing to The Beatles with Shaun?

“Nobody won the lottery that week – and the next week it was a quadruple rollover! A boy called Michael Finch won it. He was only sixteen. Imagine that! First time he’d ever played. Great kid. A friend of mine met his dad once. Long story. Anyway, I’m sorry Donna, but Michael didn’t spend it on cars and holiday homes and private pools. He invested in the future: green initiatives, healthcare, education… When the Sontarans released their virus, Earth was ready for it. Plus, the United States didn’t have a Zygon for a president. Well, they did actually, but she’s one of the nice ones. But shh, don’t tell anyone.”

“You know what,” said Donna. “I don’t think you really are Leanne Battersby, are you?”

“No.”

“But I do know you, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s… bad? My head hurts…” Donna cupped her forehead in her palm.

“Yes. It’s very bad,” said the Doctor. “But it’s okay. Because if you tear up that lottery ticket and let Michael Finch win it instead, then you’ll change the future and we’ll never have met. Well, not like this anyway.” 

“This is crazy. How is any of this possible?”

“My fault, I’m afraid. A long time ago, you had an encounter with a Time Beetle – and this is the gross part, sorry – Time Beetles can lay eggs beneath the hosts’ skin. They lie dormant, sometimes indefinitely, until the host encounters a significant temporal junction – in your case a lottery win that could change the course of human history. You were never supposed to have this life, Donna. You were supposed to tear up the ticket.”

More non-memories were flooding Donna’s mind – the years of living on the breadline in Chiswick, living with the regret of their lost fortune. A bank holiday weekend in Blackpool with the kids, having her fortune told by the strange little woman in the kiosk on the pier… Voicing her regret aloud and wishing she could go back to the day of her wedding and keep that winning ticket. 

That couldn’t be right… They never took the kids to Blackpool. Their holidays had been in Cyprus and Malaga, they’d splashed out on luxury round-the-world cruises. But she remembered it so vividly: the rattle of the trams, the glare of the illuminations, the taste of the chips, the seagulls crying overhead. 

“But we’ll have nothing. I can’t go back to the way we used to live: hand to mouth, never knowing where next month’s rent is coming from. What about Ella and Josh? They’ll be born with nothing.”

“Donna Temple-Noble, listen to me,” the Doctor gazed at her sternly. “You’ll have everything. You’ll have each other.” 

Donna looked back over to the church – there was Wilf! – still spry at eighty and fighting off Minnie’s advances as ever. And there was Shaun – so handsome in his wedding suit! She couldn’t believe how young he looked. 

The Doctor was right. Donna thought of how happy they had been during lockdown, not because they were comfortable, but because they had each other. The tweet-a-longs, the virtual gigs, the walks in the woods, the disastrous attempts at baking, standing on their doorstep and clapping for U.N.I.T…. She hadn’t put two and two together until she’d been speaking to her grandfather: but it had been the first time in her married life – the first time as a mother – that she had somehow recaptured that magic of sitting in her grandfather’s allotment with a flask of tea and gazing at the stars. 

At the time Donna had felt as though she were longing for adventure, as though the stars held some inexplicable magic, but now she knew that the magic had been right there in the allotment all along. She no longer yearned for adventure, but longed instead to return to those simple days. She never could, of course. Wilf’s star was fading, but her own was rising. She thought back to the old world of financial hardship: rented flats, being plunged into darkness when the electricity meter ran out, payday loans and minimum wage temp jobs. There would be struggles but there would also be magic. There would be stories by candlelight, cartoons and warm milk before bed in the precious few years before Joshua and Ella became moody teenagers. There would be games in the park. There would be home cooked meals, and there would be telly and Pringles on the sofa on Friday nights. 

There would be family. 

Donna turned to speak to the blonde woman, but the stranger was gone, so she hitched up her wedding dress and hurried over to her husband. 

“Who were you talking to?” he asked.

“A friend,” Donna smiled.

“What’s her name?”

“I can’t remember,” she said. It was strange, the name was on the tip of her tongue, but it had gone. She decided it didn’t matter.

“Give us that lottery ticket, will you?” Donna asked. (She had entrusted it into Shaun’s safe keeping. There were still no pockets in wedding dresses.)

“Why, you got a good feeling about it?” he asked, taking it from his pocket and handing it to his bride.

“Yeah. As a matter of fact, I have,” said Donna Temple-Noble as she tore up the ticket, and a great weight lifted from her shoulders.

[enigmaticxbee]

✖️✖️✖️✖️ 5x10 Chinga

The one where... Scully’s vacation in Maine is interrupted by an evil doll (written by Stephen King!)

Best: Every glimpse into how dorkily bored and clingy Mulder is without his BFF - who is gone for one weekend - makes me that much fonder of Mulder. Eating sunflower seeds and watching World’s Deadliest Swarms and/or Alien Probes; mesmerized by Scully showing off her knowledge of witchcraft and the occult; bouncing his basketball in his undies; calling Scully any way he can possibly reach her - cell phone, motel phone, police station - trying to insert himself into her case; looking up scientific explanations since Scully has the extreme possibilities covered; throwing pencils at the ceiling and trying - but failing - to hide his patheticness from her. Oh, she already knows, Mulder, she knows.

Worst: I really enjoy this episode, but oh to have seen Stephen King’s original version without CC’s meddling! Read about it here and bemoan what might have been...

❌ Flashlights

❌ Woods

❌ Slideshow

❌ Autopsy

❌ Evidence Disappears

❌ Scully Misses It (Mulder does this time!)

❌ Mulder Ditch (Scully ditch! If it’s a ditch to go on vacation without your coworker 🧐)

✔️ Sunflower Seeds

❌ Voiceover

❌ Catch Phrase

❌ Scully is a Medical Doctor

❌ Mulder is Spooky

❌ Scuuullllaaaaayy! Muullllderrrr!

❌ Fox/Dana

❌ Inappropriate Touching (that I am here for)

✔️ Casual Scully

✔️ Casual Mulder

❌ Trench Coats

❌ Bad Tie Watch

✔️ Glasses Watch: Scully in sunglasses 😎

50 States: Maine x1 & DC x40 (35/50)

Investigate: Apart

Solve Rate: 62%

✔️ Bechdel Test

MSR: 🐝🐝🐝🐝

Goriness: 👽👽👽👽

Creepiness: 👽👽👽

Humor: 👽👽👽👽

Rewatch Thoughts:

Love this for Scully: Convertible top down. Sunglasses. Tourist tshirt. Jeans. Cell phone locked in the trunk. Oops, walked into the wrong supermarket. But she’s got her emergency blazer!

(If this was really winter in Maine Scully should really be in a giant puffy coat.)

Scully: rattles off a long list of the possible evidence of witchcraft or sorcery. Mulder: Scully? Scully: Yes? Mulder: Marry me. Scully: I was hoping for something a little more helpful. Mulder: Well, you know, short of looking for a lady wearing a pointy hat riding a broomstick, I think you pretty much got it covered there. I love 1. How impressed Mulder is by Scully’s breath of knowledge on the subject (did she pick all of this up from Mulder or has she been doing research on her own because she’s that dedicated to the X-Files, aww); 2. That he tells her she’s got it covered and means it - his follow up calls are because he misses her not because he thinks she can’t handle it, and he pivots to “scientific explanations” to try to be helpful; 3. How Scully just rolls her eyes at a proposal from her coworker because she knows that Mulder is all talk and has no follow through, despite how endearingly earnest he sounds.

Why is children’s music so creepy?

Melissa was Jen Pringle in Anne of Avonlea! I LOVED those miniseries.

The woman getting her hair caught in the ice cream machine... scarred me.

The book on the motel nightstand is “Affirmation For Women Who Do Too Much” - did she get this for herself? Was it a gift from her mother? You know she was using what she read when she shut Mulder down at the beginning of the episode. Didn’t do so well with the not working on vacation thing though. (Not a real book as far as I can tell.)

Mulder’s at his neediest and most insecure when he feels Scully pulling away. At least this time he doesn’t lash out nastily. He just gets very clingy. He’s probably worried about her after Emily - she does pull away emotionally after that, understandably. And reminding myself that he’s in the middle of a crisis of faith where he thinks aliens are a hoax (and maybe that he met Samantha and she’s fine but doesn’t want to know him) so he’s understandably at loose ends.

Do you think Scully’s trying to make Mulder jealous when she talks about giving the poster to some guy... Jack...? She could have just said she was giving it to the police officer she helped out. Something about the way she says Jack.

Scully’s look of pity when another pencil hits Mulder in the head at the end 😂

This was the first scene with both of them in the office all season - and it’s half way through the season. We need more basement office time!

Episode-Related Fanfic Recs:

Fraternize Ch. 3 by @admiralty-xfd & @gaycrouton - series of motel encounters throughout the series, this one set just after Chinga. Mulder tries to make it up to Scully for ditching her wine and cheese party in Detour. Love this whole series!

Impressions by @baronessblixen - Mulder wants to know what Scully tells her friends about him. It’s very sweet.

[lucifers-golden-bitch-apparently]

heads up, the op of that meme (the pringles one) is uh,,, not a nice person at best. maybe don't rb from them

oh oop okay

thanks for telling me💙/gen

[sushigal007]

Tri-Var Sorority

Let’s go play a Greek house now. Although I must say these Greek houses don’t resemble any houses I saw in Greece. There aren’t nearly enough statues of naked dudes with giant erections.

Thanks Heather. How very topical. Heather: Please don’t mock me, I’m dying here. Fine. We’ll deal with it. Go straight to your room, and keep two metres away from everybody-

FUCKS SAKE, HEATHER.

Well that’s sitting down and resting, so I allow it.

Meanwhile Tiffany keeps her distance and starts skilling.

Heather: So am I. Good, because as we keep being told, if you don’t come out of quarantine with at least six new skills, you suck. (Do not feel bad if you spend your entire time in quarantine doing nothing other than binge-watching the entire MCU from start to finish while eating Pringles. Stay at home, stay safe, stay alive.)

Brittany: Dear professor. I will not be in class for the next few days as I have the plague. Brittany: Oh wait shit I don’t know who my professor is.

Brittany: Also I really have to pee. So go pee! I specifically didn’t lock you in your rooms so you could!

Brittany: Yeah but Heather’s in there. There are three toilets in this house. Why not use a different one? Brittany: Because Heather’s in there.

And then she charges in so fast, she leaves a Brittany-shaped hole in the door. Brittany: GO AWAY! Heather: I’M DYING.

That was your own stupid fault. Brittany: Nobody saw me, you can’t prove a thing.

The parade of fail continues. Tiffany: Oops.

Alas, that wasn’t Grandma’s Comfort Soup. None of the girls have Family primaries or secondaries, so Brittany and Heather are just gonna have to tough it out.

Or nap it out. That works too.

Meanwhile, here’s Tiffany. Hi Tiffany! Tiffany: I’m trying to do my assignment, do you mind? Bye Tiffany!

Tiffany: So, recycling. Thoughts? Heather: I think... I need to use the bathroom again

Brittany: NOT THIS TIME, BITCH.

THERE ARE TWO OTHER TOILETS.

It turns out Heather had other reasons for wanting to use the bathroom. Heather: Glub glub glub.

Brittany: HACK HACK COUCH COUGH. Heather: Can’t you cover your mouth? Brittany: You know perfectly well that I cannot.

Emmy-Lou: Look, a distraction! Tiffany: Where!?

Tiffany: Wh- hey! You swapped the pieces! Emmy-Lou: I literally said ‘look, a distraction’. What did you think that meant?

Hooray! I celebrated by letting her go out with Tiffany, who’s been wanting to write her term paper and can’t because the computer’s in Brittany’s room.

And then I didn’t bother taking any photos of Heather’s first taste of freedom.

And when they get back, I’m greeted by this happy message.

Not the greatest grades, but as you can see, it’s literally the first time they went to class, so C’s are pretty good.

New term, new skills. Tiffany’s the only one who wants any though. Heather and Brittany: We were sick, we need to recover.

I see recovery does not prevent them from bringing home mountains of pizza.

Heather wanted a pet, so got her a puppy called Millie. Heather: *rubs puppy all over face*

Brittany: SKREEEEEEEEEEEEE

Tiffany’s OTH is Nature so I let her catch some fireflies that we will both instantly forget about.

One day I will learn how to fix the messed up slots on this pet bed. Today is not that day. Tomorrow will not be that day either.

Soooo I noticed all the girls had crushes on Castor Nova, so I invited him over, hoping for some ~drama~. Spoiler: There was no drama. Castor: So why are you single? Is there something wrong with you?

Heather: Aaaand my vagina just sealed itself shut.

Erik: Which one’s the Bishop again? Brittany: No idea.

Are you deliberately trying to get my blog banned? You have two baths upstairs!

Brittany earns the dubious honour of being the first sim to see protest signs when she looks at the protest signs, instead of flamingo lights. Brittany: Fight the power? I want to be the power.

Nice earrings, Kristen.

OK, that is officially Too Many Pizzas.

Heather: This is kinda fun actually lol.

Heather: Heyyyyyy! Fancy seeing you here! Martin: I know, right!?

Bold choice of clothing.

Brittany’s may be even bolder. Brittany: Psyche out your opponent with boobies. Tiffany: Not looking.

Do you want food poisoning? Because that’s how you get food poisoning.

Heather’s OTH is also Nature and she rolls constant wants to catch butterflies and fireflies. Heather: I am your Lord and Master. Tremble before me, lesser beings!

Brittany prefers to tease Millie.

Tiffany makes the Dean’s list again, and Heather and Brittany’s grades are going up.

Heather: I am Lord of the Flies. Fireflies. Have... have you ever read the book? Heather: Haha of course not.

I can always count on the trampolines to lure in Sims who need a body point but don’t want to skill.

Tiffany chats to DJ

Llama: Why is there a mouldy pizza blocking my way? Because I’m hoping somebody will TAKE A FUCKING HINT.

Brittany wanted to throw a toga party and somehow I totally failed to notice that Heather had a crush on Martin

A BIG one.

I also invited both the drama professors.

No regrets.

Hi Emily! Don’t you already have a boyfriend? Emily: I want a harem.

Llama: How dare you flirt with me again!? Drama Prof: Bwah?

Tiffany: So, Kevin, you wanna- Kevin: ‘Scuse me, there’s shenanigans going on.

And Kevin becomes the filling in a Drama sandwich. Kevin: Oh shit.

Tiffany: Heartbreak. I’m not sure you can really blame Kevin for this- Tiffany: Watch me do it anyway.

Llama: How very dare you.

Kevin: How very dare you indeed!

Tiffany: Maybe a relaxing backrub- Kevin: NOPE I have had ENOUGH of people touching me at this so-called party!

Speak for yourself, game, I had a blast.

Brittany: Put it there, pal. Tiffany: This is fine. :)

Heather: I’m not saying the milkshake thing and you can’t make me.

Finally discovered Brittany’s OTH is Sports, so she drags Tiffany outside to play football, which, as a Brit, kills me a little every time I have to type it for the wrong football.

Heather: -Yeah but skyscrapers are stupid, what’s the point when you can only have four playable households? Tiffany: Your dog pissed on the floor again. Heather: Can’t hear you, I’m on the phone.

Heather: Besties! Martin: Besties! Heather: Let’s see if we can’t improve on that.

Martin: Any thoughts on night mode?

Server: Oops, my bad.

Joshua: Hey bro, having fun? Martin: SLURP. Joshua: How’s Jane?

Brittany: Stop pissing on the carpet. It’s disgusting. Pee on a newspaper. Can puppies pee on newspapers? Brittany: Whatever, just do it outside. Millie: I can’t get down the stairs though. :(

And then she grew up and immediately rushed outside to harass passing townies into petting her.

Grades!

Mini Heather spam

Tank Grunt invited Heather on an outing after her date with Martin and I figured, why not? Much to my amusement, he invited his dad and his brother. Buck’s booty shorts HAVE to go though.

I guess my PC liked looking at his ass hanging out ‘caused it crashed while I was scrolling through shirts. BOOO. Turns out nothing was wrong with them, it just strained itself too hard generating thumbnails.

So I sent Heather back out, where she was promptly attacked by bees.

Heather: Please, I need to sleep and there’s nowhere here to nap.

The next day, I sent her out to do some skilling, and she rolled her very first academic want - to influence someone to write her term paper.

Marla: Eh, I’ve got nothing better to do.

Heather: As a stereotypical hot, blonde Sorority girl, I am the best at makeovers.

Heather: Tada.

Hey Brittany, it’s for you. It’s an obscene phone call. Brittany: Sigh. Hello, professor.

Tiffany: I too am good at makeovers. Townie: But you’re not hot and blonde. Tiffany: Neither are you, bitch.

Tiffany: A vast improvement.

Stop that, Millie.

Townie: So anyway, I was thinking, blah blah blah... Tiffany: I’m so hungry. Tiffany: Ooh, a sandwich. Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry.

Townie: -And they were all bendy, can you believe it, blah blah blah... Tiffany: Ooh, a different sandwich! Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry.

Tiffany: Ooh, a different sandwich! Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry. Townie: You know that’s the first sandwich again, right? Tiffany: No. Can I try your sandwich?

Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry.

Tiffany: Ooh, a different sandwich! Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry. Townie: ...I’m gonna go now.

Oh thank fuck for that.

Brittany: If we get roaches, you’d better kill them, or I’ll kill you.

Heather: I can sex up your look, but you’re gonna have to deal with that horrible outfit yourself.

SNOW.

Tiffany: This vagina isn’t gonna fuck itself, Kevin. Kevin: But the wall’s in the way. I know I have an inaccessible beds hack. I may have to move it out of the subfolder and pop a z at the beginning of the name.

Whoops, forgot I’d invited them both. And that they hate each other.

Makoto: Please, the makeover chair’s right there... Heather: I’m BUSY.

I see Sam’s makeover is winning her fans.

Aldric: Help me, I’m dying.

Yeah, and I bet it would’ve been even better without the fucking plague.

And the round ends with some grade slippage from all the girls.

[bangtanstanst]

Be My Palentine

Being single on Valentine’s Day isn’t so bad, as long as you have an equally single friend to spend your night with.

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: fluff, college!au

warnings: none

word count: 2.9k

anonymous requested: “Can’t you stay the night?” + “My clothes look good on you.” with Namjoon.

a/n: hi guys, I hope you had a great Valentine’s yesterday!! I know this fic comes a little late for a v-day one, but I’m still going to upload it oops I hope you like it♥

Tagging @nambewb and @moonojoon to let them know it’s here♥

requests | masterlist

“Is it in yet?”

Namjoon snickers, turning to look over his shoulder from his spot at your oven, frozen pizza in hand. “Please don’t ask a guy that ever again.”

You simply grin at him, leaning back on the couch and raising your enormous glass of wine at him. “See, yet another reason as to why I’m spending Valentine’s with a fellow single pringle,” you return, taking a large sip from your wine. “Now do you want me to set the timer or not?

With a laugh, he turns around and shoves your second dinner in the oven, closing it up again. “Yeah, it’s in,” he says with a defeated sigh. “Needs fifteen minutes.”

“Done!” you say, quickly starting the timer on your phone.

“I cannot believe you made me utter that sentence,” he says with a huff, plopping down on the couch across from you and resting his socked feet in your lap.

You glance up at him, giving his feet a scowl and shoving them off of you. “And I can’t believe you’re still mentally twelve,” you retort, letting him swipe your wine out of your hand and throw back half the glass. “Hey! You have your own!”

He scowls as he hands the glass back to you. “But it’s all the way over there,” he says, pointing to the coffee table literally two feet away from you – you’re pretty sure that he’d be able to reach it, would he reach out and really try. “Anyways, what movie are you thinking?”

You grin at him and sit up, sliding off the couch and settling down at your coffee table, opening up Netflix on your laptop. “Kim Namjoon’s continued tour of the chick flick canon – next stop, Bridget Jones’s Diary,” you announce dramatically, clicking on the movie in question as soon as it pops up in the search results, pausing it momentarily. “Give me your assumptions.”

Namjoon hums, averting his eyes for a moment as he cooks up a preemptive summary. “Girl buys diary, diary turns out to contain the eighth Horcrux, diary tells her what to do about this pesky crush she’s had on the guy across the office.”

You burst out in laughter, shaking your head as giggles spill from your lips. “It’s… I give it an A for imagination,” you remark, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Actually, I kinda wanna see that movie now.”

Namjoon makes a small bow, a smile teased over his lips. “Thank you, thank you. I do try,” he says, grabbing the bottle of wine and refilling both your glasses, suddenly feeling well enough to actually move more than a few inches.

“I’m sure you do,” you reply with a snort, rising to your feet to grab some more junk food from the kitchen, not even caring to put it in the bowls you keep in your cupboards. You’ll make a mess either way. “So, did you get any roses today?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he gets up as well, helping you gather the bags of crisps, M&Ms, popcorn, and overpriced chocolate you bought today. “I don’t think there are very many people who would spend that kind of money on me.”

“A singular rose isn’t that expensive,” you reply with a shrug, walking back to the couch as the scent of pizza spreads through your apartment.

“More expensive than it should be,” Namjoon returns, dumping the junk food next to the coffee table where your laptop rests. “Or do you have one hiding for me somewhere?” he adds teasingly, cocking an eyebrow.

You pause for a moment, pursing your lips. “Yeah, I don’t think I want to spend that kind of money on you.”

He laughs as you sit back down on the couch, grabbing your phones off the table as you wait for the pizza to be done so you can start the movie. “Did you get any?” he then asks, eyes glued to the screen of his phone.

You shrug, glancing up at him. “Also a no,” you reply, grabbing a bag of Doritos from the ground and opening it, smiling when the smell of the cool ranch flavour hits you. “But I already have a Valentine, so I don’t really need a rose.”

Namjoon looks up, lips parted, eyes wide in curiosity. “What? Who?”

With a snort, you grab some Doritos, throwing the bag in his lap. “You, idiot,” you answer, laughing when he slumps, narrowing his eyes at you.

“I was thinking you’ve been hiding a guy from me,” he remarks, turning back to his phone as he scrolls, stuffing some crisps in his mouth before putting the bag down and switching it for his glass of wine.

“Like I’ve ever actually been able to keep any sort of secret from you,” you retort, glancing up at him from underneath your eyelashes. You’re scrolling thoughtlessly through Instagram, liking every picture on your feed without paying much attention to the actual content – you just look at the flush in Namjoon’s cheeks, a bright grin breaking out on your face. “Drunk already, are you?” you tease, knowing that this is usually what alcohol does to him.

He rolls his eyes, pointedly taking another sip from the wine – but, only proving your point more, he misses his lips by a bit, spilling the red liquid on his green hoodie. While he huffs and sits up, you simply laugh, putting your phone away.

“So you are,” you say, getting up from the couch and holding out your hand to him. “Come on, take it off, we need to move quickly before the stain sets.”

He glances up at you for a moment, his dazed mind seeming to take somewhat longer to process everything before he nods and grabs your hand, allowing you to pull him up. “Right,” he mutters, putting his glass away and swiftly taking the hoodie off. You grab it right away, turning your back to him before you can see much of whatever is underneath his hoodie. “You can take something out of my closet if you want,” you say, gesturing to your bedroom even though he knows very well where it is.

He hums in confirmation, walking off to your room while you grab the salt from your cupboard. You spread out his hoodie on your counter and sprinkle a generous amount of the salt onto the stain, knowing the method has worked best for you in the past.

“I think it’s a little too small,” Namjoon says warily from behind you, emerging from your bedroom.

You turn around, salt still in hand, and you burst out in unapologetically loud laughter when you see him. He’s barely managed to pull one of your favourite hoodies over his head, a simple black one that fits you just right – which also means it’s much too small for Namjoon’s form. On him, it looks more like a cross between a crop top and a tight T-shirt. “My clothes look good on you,” you comment in mock-seriousness, turning around to pour more salt on his hoodie.

“Right? I think I’ll keep this one, it really suits me,” Namjoon plays along, walking over to you to look over your shoulder at his hoodie. “Aren’t you supposed to soak it in cold water?”

“No, that’s blood,” you reply casually, sprinkling a last bit of salt on his hoodie before calling it quits and letting it settle, simply hoping for the best.

Namjoon is smiling when you turn back around to put the salt away. “It worries me that you know that so well,” he starts, narrowing his eyes at you. “Because it means that you’re either ruining good clothes on the reg, or you murder people in your spare time.”

“First of all, don’t ever say ‘on the reg’ to me ever again,” you tell him, though you feel a small grin tugging at your lips as you continue, “And secondly, the point is that I know how to get the stains out, so whether or not I’m on my period and or murdering people, I will not let my clothes be ruined ‘on the reg’.”

He laughs, nodding at your words, though you speak once more before he can open his mouth.

“And speaking of ruined clothes, go peel off that damn hoodie before you stretch it out permanently!” you tell him, pushing your laughing friend back towards your bedroom.

“You said it looked good on me!” he protests, though he does do as you ask and pulls off the garment, revealing the white tank top he’s wearing underneath. Your eyes linger for just a moment, especially when you notice his upper body looks different from when you last saw it a few weeks ago. Has he been going to the gym without forcing you to join him?

“And that was a little something called sarcasm,” you reply with a smile, rummaging through your wardrobe, trying to find the most oversized thing you own. You end up with a hoodie that’s probably two sizes too big for you. “Here, this should work,” you tell him, whirling around to show him the greyish garment.

He frowns at the hoodie for a moment before his face clears up and his jaw drops. “Yeah, because it’s mine, you thief!” he returns, swiping the hoodie from your hands and slipping it on. “I’ve been looking for this thing for weeks, I almost didn’t recognise it.”

You send him a sheepish smile, muttering an unapologetic ‘oops’ just as your phone alarm goes off, indicating your pizzas are done.

“Saved by the bell,” he comments as you make your way back to the kitchen, taking out the hot pizzas with only slight difficulty, cutting them before moving back to the couch. “Oh, we should start the movie, Taehyung said he had an early class tomorrow and I don’t want to wake him when I get home,” Namjoon says, checking his watch.

You glance up at him, putting your plate on your lap so that you can lean over and press play on your laptop. “Can’t you stay the night?” you offer, hand hovering over the spacebar. “Your toothbrush is still here anyway.”

Namjoon seems to hesitate for a moment, the piece of pepperoni pizza in his hand hovering close to his lips. “Oh, yeah, sounds good,” he then says, taking a bite. “I’ll take the couch.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, my bed’s big enough for two,” you say, pressing the spacebar right after. You notice him opening his mouth to speak, but you hold up your hand to shut him up. “Now shush and watch the movie.”

“So are you coming into bed or not?”

Laughing, Namjoon crosses his arms and leans against your doorpost. He’s clad in a borrowed set of your – or, as he keeps insisting, his – clothes to serve as pyjamas for tonight. The same greyish hoodie hangs loosely around his torso, a pair of black sweats paired with it. His hair is ruffled – he hasn’t straightened it up since he pulled the hoodie over his head earlier tonight. “You’ve got to stop it with the innuendos here, Y/N,” he remarks, a smile teased over his lips as he walks over to the other side of the bed, laying down under the covers. “Especially when we’re sleeping in the same bed.”

“Again, reading too much into things,” you return with a chuckle, turning to look at him. He’s lying on his back, arms folded on his stomach as he stares at the ceiling.

“Yeah, I tend to do that, don’t I?” he says with a smile, turning his head to glance at you, then quickly averting his eyes back to the ceiling. You notice his cheeks are even rosier than before, likely from the extra glasses of wine he’s downed since starting the movie.

A comfortable silence falls as you close your eyes, settling into the mattress. But while Namjoon is probably on the verge of falling asleep, your mind is racing in all sorts of directions, absolutely high on the sugar you’ve had tonight, going from classes to homework to movies to Valentine’s Day itself, to random childhood memories, things you remember doing in high school…

“Hey, Namjoon,” you blurt out without a second thought, your voice soft enough not to jolt him awake if he’s already asleep.

“Yeah?” sounds his low voice in reply, grittier than usual.

You let out a sigh, fluttering your eyes open and starting to count the dots on your ceiling. “Why do you think Valentine’s is so important to people?”

A short silence. You keep your eyes above you, only seeing Namjoon move from the corner of your eye. He puckers up his lips, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

“Like, I know it’s a commercial holiday and everything and that companies really helped popularise it and stuff, but why do you think people just went along with it?” you elaborate, unfolding your hands to put them underneath your head, elbows stretched out. “They could’ve just said fuck you, capitalism and ignored it, but they didn’t.”

Namjoon shrugs. “Same reason anniversaries are such a big thing, I guess. Some people just like to show their partner that they love them.”

“But those are of personal value to people,” you protest, shuffling around to lay on your side, facing your friend. “Like, I get anniversaries, and Christmas, and New Year’s, and those kinds of days. There’s something behind that, you know? Valentine’s is just so… random.”

He turns to lay on his side as well, head resting on his hand. Your bedroom is dark, but there’s a strip of moonlight that traces across his face, and you see a small smile teased over his lips, revealing the dimple you so often poke. “Does that matter, though?” he inquires softly, eyes darting over your face until he ends up looking into your eyes again. “People in love aren’t always about the logic of things.”

You let out a small sigh, nodding slowly as you process his words. “So Valentine’s is just about romantic love to you?”

“Mostly,” he replies quickly. “But it’s not all that. Friends hate-celebrate it together, too, right?”

“Like us,” you fill in.

He averts his eyes for just a moment, taking in a breath and slowly letting it out again. “Like us,” he confirms with a nod, looking back at you.

“But, then, why would we even want to hate-celebrate it?” you wonder, tilting your head. “Why would we feel the need to counter whatever we think we’re supposed to do on Valentine’s?”

“I’m too tipsy to give a well-formulated answer to that,” he replies with a chuckle, drawing a soft laugh from you as well. “But, I don’t know. It’s an established thing now, whether we like it or not, whether we think it’s logical or ridiculous. We just grew up in a culture that socialised us into valuing Valentine’s Day in some type of way, and now we treat it with that upbringing in mind.”

You snort, smiling. “True.”

“Plus, I mean, it’s just a damn good excuse to hoard all the chocolate you can afford,” he adds with a smirk, making you chuckle once more.

“Valid point,” you admit, nodding. “You win.”

He laughs, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t know we were competing,” he says, eyes twinkling in the tiny bit of moonlight that shines through your curtains. “What’s the prize?”

“You and your materialism,” you tease, which makes him laugh. “You get sleep, is what you get. Seven whole hours of it.”

“Don’t you have a nine AM class tomorrow?” he asks with a frown as you curl up underneath the sheets, your eyes fluttering closed.

“That was today. My earliest is at one PM,” you reply, forehead smoothing out as you relax. “And it worries me that you kept me up so late when you thought I had class at nine.”

“Hey, I’m just letting you decide for yourself,” he defends, turning around so that his back is now facing you, your hands brushing his hoodie. “If you want to skip out on sleep to watch movies and eat junk food, you’ll have to learn the hard way how smart that decision really is.”

You snort, snuggling closer to him and instinctively wrapping your arms around his torso. You feel him stiffen in surprise for just a moment before he relaxes, putting a hand over yours and lacing your fingers together. “You’d be a good dad,” you simply comment in reply.

“Damn right,” he confirms, his smile audible through his words. “I’d be the best dad ever.”

“I think you need a partner for that first,” you remark with a chuckle, curling your legs into his.

“And here I am, wasting my Valentine’s with you,” he mumbles in return, voice low and husky, as if he’s already half asleep.

Letting out a laugh once more, you pull your hand out of his so you can pat his shoulder. “When we’re thirty and we’ve made no progress, we’ll talk.”

He chuckles, though he doesn’t say anything in reply, simply muttering, “Night, Y/N.”

You smile, slipping your hand back into his and nuzzling into his back, the fabric soft against your skin. A car drives by outside and you hear soft laughter, hushed voices travelling through the street below your window, though the sounds only add to the serenity that hangs over you. It’s nice and warm underneath the covers, especially with your friend right beside you, and you feel yourself relax as Namjoon’s grip around your hand tightens ever so slightly. You breathe in his familiar scent and subsequently let out a sigh in content, your reply coming out in a soft, almost inaudible mumble before the both of you fall into a peaceful slumber. “Night, Namjoon.”

a/n: thanks so much for reading, I hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought/what you might want to see next, I’d love to hear from you!! I hope you have a great day/night wherever you are♥♥♥

requests | masterlist

[fart-gate]

SG1

Season 4 episode 8

"THE FIRST ONES"

Notes by me

- the thumbnail is a lizard man

- the BANDANA

- archeologist! Daniel

- "sg11, archeologist survey, P3X 888, dig site 5" is it bad i thought it was sexy when he did this

- I paused it on the fossil and it looks like it had wings???

- Cleo lol

- so the goaulds werent parasites a few million yrs ago. Good to know

- robert rothman is bossy as hell

- old goaulds did NOT have naquada in their dna

"Thats significant"

"How so?"

"I have no idea"

💖💖💖💖

- 🎵sometimes I feel like...somebodys WATCHIN MEEEE🎵

- omg Daniel one punch and your down. Need to have more combat training with tealc buddy

- Daniel gets kidnapped YET AGAIN

- rothman yelling for Daniel was nice actually

- an unas!!! From the viking episode

- hopefully this one doesnt sound like james earl jones

- sg1 said oh Daniel in trouble? I already have my boots on lets go

- P3X 888 is where the goaulds originated? Didnt we already try looking for a homeworld?

- I thought the unas growling was Daniel snoring for like a hot sec ok im tired leave me alone

- apparently nobody likes rothman and yeah i get it hes annoying

- tealc is lead on this one! Master tracker

- "rest!....it means.......rest"

- "grrrrr rest" the stargate programs professional linguist everyone

- love Daniel just talking to himself

- "yes! Very refreshing! ok im good for the next ten miles"

- his eyes are piercingly blue for my pleasure only

- forest sets are my favorite btw

- 2 moons thats so cool why doesnt earth have 2 moons we're missin out

- why does he have 2 phones???

- oh its a recorder

- daniel recording himself: this creature has dragged me around for hours and wants to eat me. But other wise we've become great pals < 3

- "juvanile" he got kidnapped by a teenager akdndjd

- im sorry his eyes are so distracting

- OKAY OKAY when it growls at him and he puts his head down to be submissive hhhhrrrrnnnngggggg

- SHE SPEAKS!

- daniel could make friends with a rat and it would show him all their rat friends and rat culture. I got away with that metaphor but you know what I mean. He could make friends with anything

- I just CANT get over how pretty he looks in this ep??? You thought I wouldnt keep talkin about it??? U were wrong

- this unas whole costume is so cool

- daniel: *tries to drink by dipping face in water*

Unas: what were you raised in a barn?? Use your hands idiot

- how is he swimming with his hands tied

- that goauld came at him like a torpedo

- ok! The unas said you get goauld guts all over your face for being an idiot

- ka means no

- well now hes gonna be wet forever (👀)

- is hawkins the leader of sg11?

- of course Jack sits RIGHT next to the goauld infested lake!!! Of course!!

- ah my favorite. Spit roasted parasite

- needs salt

- unas: this is my cave

Daniel: LOVE what youve done with the place

- hot potato with a goauld head ajdjs

- "yes yes all the kids are playing this these days OOPS in the fire!"

- at least he made him laugh

- why every time one culture shares food with earth its always chocolate?? Why not idk fuckin??? Pringles???

- oh its a cliff bar

- alright. He didnt have to sexually moan while eating a cliff bar BUT he sure did

- this unas is very curious

- "I met my father in law like this" OOF movie reference

- btw the guy that plays the unas?? Amazing 10/10

- ah shit hawkins has a GOUALD!!!!

- the unas have cave drawings ooooo

- daniel recording himself: me and the unas are besties now

Unas: *draws picture of him dragging Daniel to his doom*

Daniel : ......nevermind

- can tealc sense the goauld in the lake?

- when he shoots it out of the air. Invented sexy

- Sam can only sense the ones with naquada!!! This is really cool plot

- jaffa are unblendable. I wonder if the other guy that was immune had what jaffa have

- daniel about to kill him with a large rock and then his chaotic morals take charge again

- btw no glasses Daniel has been here for almost the whole ep

- "its been a hoot"

- WHEN HE PUTS HIS HEAD DOWN 👀👀👀👀👀👀

- "anybody with a snake in their heads, raise your hand!"

- see!?!?! Tealc with the plans im tellin ya

- rothman too damn.

- that guy pronouncing goauld like "goo-ahld" ????

- "this way" *points to a sign that says 'this way'

- hurry up!! Daniel about to get consumed by reptilians!!

- aw hes protecting him!

- Daniel speak Big Lizard Man language now

- "we've communicated, we're friends!"

- LIZARD BRAWL

- KING LIZARD BOY!!!

- "dan-yeeeell??" Oh no oh no I'm crying he wants to keep him

- "sha-ah-ka" he liked Daniel bc Daniel said the word for their moon god ok I get it now

- "whats that mean?"

"I have no idea....but I think ive just been invited to come back one day and find out" 💖😭 best friends with lizard people

~

Whump under the cut

Daniel jackson whump: knocked out,dragged, kidnapped, waking up,hands tied, out of breathe, collapsing, flinching, exausted, leg swiped, fell over onto back, cut on face, bloody cheek, fear, more flinching, noises!, almost sacrificed to lizard ppl

BONUS:

Jack and sam whump: hands tied, less than 10 min

🤓no glasses!Daniel for 99% of episode!

🎶listening to Youve Got A Friend In Me by Randy Newman🎶 bc Daniel and the Unas are besties and I think im funny

[sandriinehebert]

INTRODUCTION & CONNECTIONS:

ALESSANDRA “SANDRINE” SERAFINA LOMBARDI

attention people, a (maple flavored — yes those exist and they are delicious) cinnamon roll has entered the chat! for more information about her, you can read her full biography by clicking right here! for more information or specific questions, or to plot anything with her, please, IM me! i’m open to everything! howeveeeeer, i made a quick little descriptive list of head canons & plots/connections that can help the both of us out! you’ll find that under the read more! again, don’t hesitate to hit me up for anything. in the great words of marina diamandis, living la dolce vita, life [could get more sweeter with those connections added to her storyline]... well that got off beat.

PLOT IDEAS

for a beauty convention, she had to travel in a different city. she knew all too well it was supposed to be a business trip, but she’s had one too many drinks at a bar and ended up sleeping with a total stranger. you know, the all-night-cloud-nine-10/10-would-bang-again type of sleeping with a stranger? things like that happen, they’re harmless when you’re more single than a pringle, right? forgive and forget, it’s not like she was going to see them ever again. OH WON’T YOU LOOK AT THAT they live in devinstone now. hi, instant physical attraction? yes, sandrine would love to cancel her subscription thank you. oh she can’t because she gets attached to people too fast? and i oop.

so it is mentioned that every year, her family would go to boston/massachussetts and visit relatives, right? what during a specific vacation she met someone and they sort of hit it off right away? they became long-distance friends, waiting for her next vacation and every time their connection would get more intense, but they cut ties with each other for some angsty reason and now they’re both living in the same town and oh boy, prepare your marshmallows, because they’re gonna get roasted. could be friendship or romantic!

^ this but make it a long lasting summer love???? young teenagers living the stereotypical summer love and being each other’s first everything and living far away but still promising to wait for each other except after what? 10 years? one of them gave up and they reconnect and dig deep in their feelings.  

so her brother is a relatively famous hockey player, he probably gets to hang out with all the cool people around. and maybe he invited her to a party or an event a few times over the five years she’s spent in devinstone and she is introduced to some random stranger with whom she gets along surprisingly well. among all the jocks and girls with heart eyes, and people with big wallets, she found friendship/relationship/acquaintance material! not too bad for someone who was literally dragged outside of her house by her big bro. but said big bro doesn’t approve. and said big bro didn’t want sandrine and stranger to spend time together. so said big gro spread bad rumors about stranger to sandrine and to stranger about sandrine and they stopped talking. TAKEN by erik apsley.

another big brother story where he got an injury of some sort and she was the only one taking care of him at the hospital for days. and she met someone there, could be a doctor, another patient, a nurse, whatever, they’d be like “gurl just go shower you stink” and she’d be like “and leave you alone with my brother? he’ll give you reasons to jump off the window and run away if i’m not here to tell him to be human”. and they chat and hang out until her brother has recovered and their lives go back to normal. 

CONNECTIONS

someone who makes her turn the sugar into salt. the type of people she just can’t standdddd (at least that’s why she convinces herself of). someone who most likely sees right through her sweetness and calls her out for lying to herself and wanting to be everyone’s friend just because she’s a lonely little needy puppy. and she hates to be told she’s not faultless. she hates to be told she’s not always genuine. she hates this person. but she needs that person, for self growth or whatever. TAKEN BY giovanna morrison.

love interest. this is fairly vague, but just someone who can give her the attention she’s craving for would be perfect for that.

maybe a rich friend???? sort of like a temporary sugar daddy/mommy/buddy that she connected with when she went to boston before moving in devinstone. someone with lots of money who believed in her project and helped her pay the things she needed to open her business. they hooked up a few time in exchange, had their fun and she’s thriving now until they show up at her salon.

a regular client! someone who lets her ramble about all kinds of promos, someone she gives free samples to always, someone who gets the first pick during busy hours, they’re basically each other’s confident inside of the booth, but they’ve never really talked outside of the salon. until now! so we can build that friendship! TAKEN by jamie desai. could be open to one more!

friends friends friends friends. pls just give her friends she needs them.