#pimms in a pool

[elodieunderglass]

So for some more details:

- I am fairly time-poor with a huge amount of commitments: Grownup Job Senior Promotion, three small kids on summer holidays/starting school, writing a novel fanfic for sick friend, peak growing/harvest season at allotment, etc. so im only offering “what I can actually deliver” at this time

- swan comic is a new idea, people like those don’t they? Not sure of how fundraising mechanism would work here but maybe taking prompts?

- not sure how essay would work but it’s probably my best/most appealing skill?

- material items in exchange for a minimum fixed amount. So offline I’m most known for material works. I’m not a BAD printmaker / craftworker and for this I would be looking at designing a sort of limited print run of greeting card style original hand printed prints. I know you guys aren’t familiar with this work from me, so this would involve a bit of trust that An Art from me would be worth at least £5 lmao. However it’s kind of nice to get something real in the mail right??

- super worried about fandom auction so this would be mostly a register of interest that I’d take to more experienced people and use as leverage to start an auction; I’m not in a great place to provide much actual legwork here. I also have huge guilt from like 2000-something where someone paid A HUNDRED AND LIKE 20 DOLLARS to charity for earthquake survivors and I DID NOT FINISH THE FIC AND I HAD to write to them, weepingly, apologising forever about it, and they were so graceful, they forgave me and wrote off my fandom auction contribution, but I had never watched the tv show they requested and was in the process of romancing dr glass and it all went SO wrong, this MIGHT heal my scars of shame from fandom auctions generally OR might make them worse. It itvery hard to write fic actually it’s my worst skill pls don’t pick this

Anyway

I will dance like a monkey and get sick kids out of Gaza. What would you like to see most?

[helloliriels]

Wait, wait, wait ✋️ what?? I LOVE PIMM'S!!! Where is this fic?? Reading ...

Hey! There was a fic I loved that involved Pimm’s in a pool, possibly? Like Pimm’s literally filling a pool. Also a lot of mutual pining and staying at hotel rooms together. Sorry this is so vague, but I’d love to find the fic again!

Reply: I'm not coming up with anything. Hopefully someone else knows it!

[elliewilliams93]

August 2024

Swimming in the London Lidos. Tooting bec and brockwell. Both very busy compared to NZ pools.

Caught up with my childhood friends Millie and Ali for pimms at London bridge.

Caught up with Kiwi parents mark and Jackie who also happened to be in the UK. Ordered the classic ham, egg and chips! Then mark had to carry me as I was wearing white shoes and the path was very muddy!

Met dad in Southampton and he passed me the keys to the mini! Very greatful to have a car for my trip to get around.

[cynical-things]

being by a pool drinking some pimms would cure me

[aardrian]

How standards are made — calling Scott for his blessing.

Also, the $24 Pimm's Cup is not worth it. The best value at the pool bar is canned beer. The best value involving the pool bar is to bring beer you bought at CVS. The best value I found was the water and lemonade from the event.

Last day lunch had no truly GF options, except the chips which were a bit of a risk without knowing the fryer. Two of the desserts were GF, but the labeling was reversed on the GF and non-GF bowls. Which is fine if you can see the color differences.

[bugs2101-inlondon]

Reflection 8: Things I will miss in/ about London:

The thing that I will miss the most about London is that you do not have to plan or have tickets way in advance to have an adventure or fun day. Most of the days on this trip we bought tickets for shows, tours, or events the very same day and managed to make memories without having to bend over backwards. There were some days we simply walked around and found cute shops or restaurants and those were the days I remember most. I feel like in the United States you have to save up your money, set a date, plan out a way to get where you are going, then actually do it for you to have a day that is not simply going to a pool, restaurant, or bar you have been to a million times before. It is not like that in London, you can say, “I want to ride the London Eye today,” buy a ticket, wait in line for 30 minutes, and be on the London Eye before you know it. I just feel like this city allows and thrives on spontaneity. 

I will miss the variety of London. Each market, shop, restaurant, show, etc offers something unique and different everyday. 

I’m going to miss the ability to see musicals, plays, and shows every other day. I mean, don’t get me wrong I could go to see shows in Raleigh or even in Greenville if I tried hard enough but I don’t know it is just not the same. Not to mention they are ridiculously expensive most of the time. 

The tube. I will actually miss the tube. I love it. I think it is so fun to try and figure out where you are going and it is pretty rewarding when you actually get it right without having to look at your phone and you just use the maps. I feel like I am getting a gold star in navigation every time I get I’m like, “yep, we're taking the Northern line, because here is our stop.” Plus, I have actually been able to help a few people when they were confused, so call me a local because I understand the tube. (Morgan Banville gets an honorable mention here for teaching me how to use the tube, thanks Morgan!) 

I will miss all of the parks. Yes, we have parks in Greenville. But there are also creepy old men who take pictures of young girls and chase them around at those parks. (I am sadly speaking from experience.) But at these parks, they are so big and there are so many of them that you can basically be in your own little world for a whole day without having to worry about anyone. There are also usually food trucks and coffee shops so close by that you have the freedom to eat and then come back or bring food there without having to lug it from your flat, which is really convenient. Also, I like that there are so many parks within walking distance which means you don’t have to drive and fight for a parking space, worry about getting a parking ticket all day, then go to the park. 

I will miss how people dress here. Everyone is so fashionable and confident and it makes me more confident to wear what I want to wear. I could dress up in Greenville, but one time I wore jeans and a tank top to go to the store and someone asked me “who I was dressing up for?” I don’t know, I just feel like I actually have a fashion sense here which is very abnormal for me. But I have been dressing up almost everyday and I’ve been feeling more confident in my body and it’s been really nice. 

Pimm’s (I don’t think I have to explain this one.) 

[bisluthq]

if I was choosing between their LA house, RI, or like North London (or NY) I’d choose one of the former two

Well I can understand why. Both houses are gorgeous. However here in London we don't have earthquakes, wildfires, hurricanes or mass shootings. Very soon we won't have Boris Johnson either but I fear we will have someone else just as bad - at least for a while.

By the way its pretty much always Pimm's O'clock here and you are more than welcome!

😘😘

See if I was them I’d be mostly based in London because yes it is obvi lovely but in the summer I’d fuck off to RI or the LA house because there are pools and shit 🤷🏻‍♀️

[wistful-giselle]

a late summer diary:

angels, I have persuaded myself to (slowly) return from my hiatus of the last few weeks... my life lately has been lovely and bittersweet, but I do miss this dreamy online world to express myself in. ♡

the days are hot and languid and so I’ve been swimming more or less everyday- in the sea or in an outside pool- and my hair has grown almost down to the small of my back so I have been feeling increasingly like a nereid... I have been living essentially off fruit- the mulberry tree in the garden is ripe, and there is a permanent jug of pimm’s (with strawberries, cucumbers, limes, oranges, little blue flowers) in the kitchen. I went on a date with a girl who wore a victorian blouse and we looked at roses and talked about poetry.

I finished ‘middlemarch’ and read ‘the improbability of love’, about a lost watteau painting- and adored it so much I decided to teach myself history of art (currently I am on french impressionism). I am travelling to italy with friends soon; I have dreams of romantic juliet-esque dresses, rosé in my silk dressing gown, sacred art.... making my animal crossing island into fairyland. I wrote a short story inspired by rossetti’s ‘goblin market’ and keats’s ‘la belle dame sans merci’ and ovid’s metamorphoses.

I have made myself a wishlist of items to hunt down over the next month- the ideal pearl-gold-aphrodite necklace, the flower fairies party book I miss from my childhood, that daisy tv broderie anglaise dress dupe, a ballet cardigan for the colder months....

I have cried in a field in the early hours of the morning. I dreamt last night of someone I haven’t seen in years. I walked into the sea with my clothes on and the white cotton of my skirt was stained with dirt.... I am watching several small white moths flit about my bedroom and the evenings feel darker and darker. ♡

[frangipanidownunder]

100 degrees of separation: fic

For @perplexistan who requested: M and S at the UH, where there is no air conditioning, and it is a record-setting, sweltering summer day. Set post season 11? Rated T, I guess.

By lunch-time it was 95 degrees and the temperature was still creeping higher. The ceiling fan whumped pitifully, simply spreading the misery around the kitchen. Even with the blind firmly closed, the heat wedged itself against the window and permeated everything. The clock on the wall titched slowly, as though the minutes were being squeezed through molasses to tick on.

Mulder peeled his forearms from the table and brought the sports pages with him. Scully puffed a wisp of stray hair from her forehead, smiling at his grapple with the newsprint. As she leaned across to help him, his attention was trapped by the bead of sweat trickling down her cleavage, weaving over the spray of rose freckles, and all his irritation at the humidity evaporated, as he watched it disappear into the V of her tank-top. He licked his lips.

“Thirsty?” she murmured, in a tone that suggested she knew exactly what had caught his eye. “We need to stay hydrated.”

“Kinda,” he said, finally removing the last of the newspaper.

“I know you love the game, Mulder but you didn’t need to tattoo it on your skin. She took his hand and twisted his arm over. “Look at that,” she said, her voice perkier, “Yankees beat the Red Sox 11 to 1.”

He read the print that had marked the heel of his thumb and along the grooves of his wrist. “Severino finished 13 and 2. Not too shabby, Scully.”

“Whatever you say, Mulder. I’m going to make iced tea. Care for some?”

“Sure. Price finished 9 and 6. But I can’t make out the Washington scores.” He rummaged through the ripped paper but ended up flinging strips into the air where they wafted momentarily on the rising heat like ticker-tape before settling willy-nilly over the table and floor. Scully sighed and he couldn’t make out if it was because she was standing in front of the open refrigerator or if it was a precursor to her snapping at him to clean up his mess. Taking no chances, he set about gathering the remnants of the pages and scrunching them into a ball.

“Don’t even think about throwing that at me,” Scully said from deep inside the ice box.

His mother used to say something about women having eyes in the backs of their heads and as a small boy it used to creep him out enough to stop him sleeping. When his sister was born, he turned her over just to check. Scully let the door shut and turned just as he closed the gap between them. He gathered her in his arms and welcomed her cool front.

“Ice, ice baby,” he sang, rocking his hips side to side with hers. She played along for a moment before shrugging away from him and setting the ice cube tray on the table.

“Grab that for me,” she asked, nodding at the ornate mason jar on the side. “I’ve added mint and lemon. Should be really refreshing. My mom used to make this recipe for us…” She looked up at him, eyes a little wetter than before and he tossed the paper ball into the trash can, nodding his understanding at her. It still cut her. It cut him too, their cumulative losses over the decades. If he had learned anything from their experiences, it was that they were each the only person in the world who truly understood the other. Love was nothing to do with it, though it helped. For the most part, anyway. 

He watched her drop ice into the jar, took the brewed tea and poured it over the cubes so they crackled and split a little. The lemon slices rose up the sides along with the mint sprigs and the aroma put him in mind of midsummer evenings in the Red Stag’s beer garden listening to Wimbledon commentary as the Pimms pitcher sloshed on the rickety, silvered table-top.

Like the smell, however, the cool action of the drink dissipated far too quickly and after ten minutes, they were both sweating again.

“Hyperhidrosis,” she mused, pressing a wet wad of paper towel to her forehead and chest.

“If that’s your medical diagnosis,” he said, unsticking each thigh from the chair, “how does one combat its symptoms?”

She scoffed and flopped back, angling her arms at 45 degrees, circling her wrists back and forth. “Someone tell Mother Nature to dial it back in a little. She’s being a bitch.”

“She’s a bit pissed at our inability to address the climate situation and I’d say she’s got fair cause.”

“But humidity at over 90 per cent, Mulder, that’s more than a bit pissed, that’s white-hot rage.”

“Hm-mm,” he said, turning over his cell. “If it gets to 100 degrees, I’ll expire. How do Aussies live like this?”

“They have a/c everywhere,” she said.

“Uh-huh, they probably even have it in their refrigerators.” He tried to laugh at his own joke but the heat stole it from his mouth.

“More people die from the cold in Australia than the heat. Their housing isn’t built for the winters. Temperatures in the south of the country are low outside of the three months of summer. And you won’t expire, Mulder. Not on my watch.”

There it was again. That understanding, that support. Her answer about deaths in Australia didn’t really surprise him. Housing in England was similarly deficient, just for the heat, not the cold. Radiators and terraces and wall to wall carpets helped heat homes during winters, but he remembered nights in Oxford where July humidity kept him awake, tossing and turning in his bedsit while the beat of a rave rose and fell from the neighbouring farmland. He wasn’t sure about the mortality rate but it always felt like Death was laughing at the poor souls crushed into tiny living quarters.

“What’s the hottest you’ve ever been, Scully? Aside from that time you wore that sleek black skirt suit where I could see the outline of your stocking top.” He chuckled at her mock-offended expression.

“Rescuing you from Arecibo is pretty high on the list of Times Dana Scully Nearly Melted.”

“You didn’t rescue me.”

“What would you call it, then, Mr George ‘Proof of Contact’ Hale?” Her voice rose up the scale of indignation a notch.

“I didn’t ask you to come. We weren’t even partners then. You just…invited yourself. And, by the way, I got us out of there like a Hollywood stunt driver.”

“I had to have months of physio to straighten my spine after that little trip to the rainforest. Jesus, Mulder.”

“You drive like that all the time,” he countered.

“Do not,” she snipped, and pushed her chair back. “And invited myself? Really?”

She disappeared for a bit and he lay his head down on the table but a pool of warm sweat gathered on his skin so that his forehead slipped away, juddering across the surface. He looked up as Scully came back into the kitchen and blinked away the droplets that ran into his eyes. “Are you putting linen in the freezer?”

“Yes. And no, I’m not mad. You’ll thank me later.”

She disappeared again and when she returned the next time, she was carrying a scalpel and a pair of surgical scissors.

“You are mad,” he said, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Just not the insane kind. What have I done, Scully?”

“Nothing yet. Get me two empty water bottles.” He did and she nodded to the scalpel. “Puncture holes in them at regular intervals and then cut the bottoms off.” When he’d finished, she’d come back with a ball of string. He watched as she tied the bottles, upside down, to the back of the fan, looping the string through the holes and around the grating.

“I take it back,” he said, “this is a work of genius.”

She grinned, hair plastered to her face, skin sheen with sweat and in a flash, it took him back to that graveyard in Bellefleur. “I’ll get the ice.”

“And some salt. And pour more water in the ice tray,” she called after him.

Side by side, they sat cross-legged in front of the fan as the cool air blasted them. His cell registered 100 degrees and he flashed it to her.

“You saved me,” he said.

“Again,” she said, smugly.

“Who’s keeping score?”

“You are.” She batted his hand away and let her head hang back, the curls of her frizzed hair straightening when the fan blew over her. Her nipples protruded tantalisingly and he shifted on his seat.

“What’s the coldest you’ve ever been? Icy Cape? Antarctica?”

She turned to him. “No,” she said, tilting her head. “It was when you let Agent Fowley back on the scene.”

“Ouch,” he said. “No anaesthetic for your surgical barbs.”

“Shut up, Mulder. I’m getting cool.”

“Hmmm, you’ve always been cool, Scully.”

Her giggle was girlish and his temperature rose despite her makeshift air conditioner. “Any chance of a…?”

“In this heat? Absolutely none,” she declared, but he could always melt her icy edges so he closed his eyes, held his silence and bade his time. Their deep understanding would get him past her 100 degrees of separation.

[somuchtostudysolittletime]

22/8/2020 // 18.37

Did a bit of work today, then went to town, tidied my flat (I LOVE my new hoover) and then I baked some gooey brownies! Last night I zoomed a friend and she said I seemed so gutted that I hate don’t love my new job that she’s coming down for the day next weekend! Can’t wait to see her! Today I managed to track down some cheap scrub tunics so now I just need to scrounge another pair of trousers 👩🏼‍⚕️

Summer studying challenge: Imagine you could fill a pool with anything except water and swim in it? What would your pool be filled with?

Lemonade I think? Or maybe Pimms?

[lykegenia]

Wayhaven summer! 5,12,18

These are good questions!

5. Are they a strong swimmer? 🏊

She's a fairly strong swimmer! It was part of her training at the academy, but it's not a hobby she keeps up with, and she definitely wouldn't like going out of her depth in anything other than a heated pool XD

12. Favorite way to cool down? 🧊

Summer heat requires a cost-effective solution, and Leah is a fan of putting an icepack in front of a desk fan to help cool the air in a room, or if things get really bad, slapping the icepack directly against her neck. HOWEVER. The absolute best way to cool off in summer is to go to one of the 'secret' glades that exist near Wayhaven and spend a day wild swimming and listening to nature going about its day. All the tourists stay down by the lake or go to the town pool, but deep in the woods there is nothing but peace and quiet and streams of mountain-clear water. I may need to turn this into a fic.

18. Any summer traditions? 🌻

Not so much traditions as favourite activities. Leah tries to make time for at least one BBQ with Tina, complete with Pimm's, usually on her balcony, and she enjoys going to Wayhaven's annual summer fete to watch the judging of the prize vegetable competition and kick ass in the coconut shy. This may also need to be a fic.

Wayhaven Summer Asks

[maeve-of-winter]

Pimms Fic: “All That Glitters”

Written for @kentparsonbirthdaybash

Prompt: Ice

Paring: Jack/Kent

The VIP lounge was very similar to the club itself, all shining white walls, chrome surfaces and modern furniture. The lights were soft and pulsating, shifting from various shades of red to blue to violet in scattered pools of color across the icy white tile. There was a private bar with an LED-illuminated counter stocked with top-shelf alcohol and staffed by two young and pretty platinum blonde bartenders, one guy and one girl. They offered flirtatious smiles and trays of cocktails to the Falcs as they entered the lounge, angling their bodies perfectly to emphasize what their clingy black clothing was already showing off.

Impressed, Snowy let out a low whistle as he flopped down into a cube-like white leather sofa. “Damn, this place is nice. That boyfriend of yours must have some good connections to get you in here, Zimmermann.”

Jack offered a neutral shrug. “I suppose he knows who to know,” he replied noncommittally.

“More power to him,” Marty said admiringly as he set down his drink on the glowing blue table and took a seat beside Snowy. “I always think of clubs as these loud, frantic places, but this setup is actually pretty relaxing.”

“Is good to relax,” Tater contributed, sitting down across from them. “Need to unwind after dirty game—all thanks to that rat Parson,” he added with a scowl.

“Easy, Tater,” Thirdy said consolingly. “The game’s over and done, so you might as well forget about it. Besides, that frown of yours might scare off Zimmermann’s boyfriend. Don’t you want to make a good impression?”   

“That is right,” Tater realized, his face immediately clearing of its stormy expression. “Do not want to frighten your boyfriend, Zimmboni,” he told Jack, patting him on the shoulder. “Will try very hard not to.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Jack replied dryly.

“Speaking of your boyfriend,” Snowy added, glancing at his phone to check the time, “when is he going to get here? I thought you said he was going to meet us.”

“Let not your tender heart be troubled, Snowden,” drawled a familiar voice. “Here I am, coming to conquer.”

Striding across the polished floor was none other than Kent Parson, the shifting lights reflecting on his slicked-back blond hair. He wore black boots and a pair of tight pale grey jeans that made him look impossibly leggy despite not being that tall. The buttons on his black shirt were almost halfway undone, exposing a tantalizing amount of his collarbone and chest. He looked utterly at ease with the situation—more than that, even, he looked ready for a good time. 

“You!” Tater exclaimed, shooting bolt upright in his chair. “Why are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” Parson asked lazily, arching a blond eyebrow as he easily swung into Jack’s lap and perched there, perfectly relaxed. 

“Hey, Zimms,” he murmured to Jack, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You had a great game out there. If it wasn’t for me, you Falcs would have had us.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jack replied, but his tone was fond rather than annoyed. Reaching back, he trailed a hand down Parson’s spine.

Thirdy and Marty exchanged surprised looks; it was clear neither of them had been expecting this development.

Marty cleared his throat. “So, uh, Parson. You’re Jack’s boyfriend, then. Well, er, thanks for getting us into this lounge.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Thirdy chimed in.

“Great,” Snowy echoed, looking decidedly unenthusiastic, casting a vaguely irritated glance at Jack.    

Looking incredibly sheepish, Jack glanced away, but he also wrapped an arm around Kent’s shoulders, holding on tightly. 

The only one not to even make a partial effort at politeness was Tater.

“You are dating Parson?” he asked Jack, still sounding partially disbelieving, the look on his face more betrayed than angry. “This boyfriend you be talking about. The one you love so much. That be Parson entire time?”

“Guilty,” Jack admitted, a red flush spreading across his cheeks. “I was totally going to tell you guys,” he explained to all of them. “But, somehow, uh, it never seemed like the right time. But we’re very happy together,” he said, the confidence in his voice increasing as he mentioned his relationship with Kent. 

Tater just shook his head. “Cannot believe you are boyfriends,” he said mournfully, casting a reproachful look Jack’s way. 

Kent smirked at him. “It so happens you’re in luck, Mashkov. We’re not boyfriends.”

“Really?” Tater perked up slightly but then frowned again as he remembered he didn’t actually trust Kent. “This is joke?”

“Hardly.” Kent waved a hand in the direction of all the Falcs, and even in the dim light, it was impossible not to see the gleaming metal band on his ring finger that was inlaid with numerous diamonds. “Jack’s not my boyfriend.” Nuzzling against Jack’s neck, he placed a possessive kiss to his throat before straightening and looking at them all with a smug gaze. “He’s my husband.”

[avengerscompound]

how do the avengers act on holiday?

Steve Rogers - Stays out of the sun.  Probably still working and trying to pretend he isn’t.

Bucky Barnes - Counts down to when something happens that ruins the whole thing.

Tony Stark - Can’t keep still.  Probably still inventing things.

Sam Wilson - Goes somewhere known for good food and/or bars.  Spends the time picking up, site seeing and eating as much as he can.

James Rhodes - Getting a book, sitting in a deck chair and literally ignoring anyone that isn’t bringing him food or drinks.

Bruce Banner - Just spends the entire time in the lab enjoying getting to do what he wants for a change.

Natasha Romanoff - She was never on holiday.  It was a cover.

Thor - All the revels.

Clint Barton - Sleep.  Pat dog.  Sleep.   Pizza.  Sleep.

Wanda Maximoff - Goes sightseeing.  Shops.  Sleeps in late every morning.  Spends time at cute little cafes.

Pietro Maximoff - Goes clubbing and tries to pick up.

Vision - Goes sightseeing and reads books under trees.

Scott Lang - Taking Cassie to theme parks and carnivals.

Peter Parker - Now he’s being Spider-Man in Disney World.

T’Challa - Tries to relax when he can but is more likely still working the whole time.

Loki - Plots large and elaborate pranks.

Carol Danvers - Manages to do the relax by the pool thing for about half of it.  Grows antsy and then tries to find trouble.

Hope Van Dyne - Trains the whole time.

Stephen Strange - Eats out at expensive restaurants and is rude to wait staff

Maria Hill - Drinks by the pool and can’t be reached.

Phil Coulson - Sightseeing, flea markets and going to see live music.

Nick Fury - What’s a holiday?

Peggy Carter - On the beach under an umbrella with a Pimms Summer Cup.

Brunnhilde - You’ll find her either completely drunk or passed out somewhere.

Wade Wilson - At Disneyland wearing Mickey Mouse Ears with his name embroidered on them.

[korechthonia]

Huddle related headcanons (volume 2)

I did say Volume 2 would follow! Including the headcanon that started this adventure. Not all that PG. & obviously, spoilers.

(volume 1)

Jack Zimmerman thinks Senor Bun is the cutest thing ever. He calls him Monsieur Lapin, and speaks to him exclusively in French as part of the ongoing project to get Bitty to learn French. It... doesn’t really work (p1)

Jack specifically commissioned the toothbrush holder. Like really, do you think there are non-custom toothbrush holders with both rabbits and pies? (Bitty doesn’t know.) (p3)

HABS HAT HABS HAT HABS HAT. It is Jack’s. Bitty steals it one time for a strip tease and never gives it back. Now it makes periodic appearances for overdramatic Haus karaoke nights and when the Falconers one is probably downstairs. Jack is conditioned to be a bit weak for the bleu-blanc-rouge, so Bitty can get away with a lot when he’s wearing it. He takes full advantage. (p5)

Bitty only sets a timer when Jack’s around or he’s doing homework. Mostly he has a pretty good internal clock. The frogs bought a whole bunch of eggs mostly for protein-filled breakfasts (because they know Jack’s visiting!), but Ollie and Wicks steal a carton or two to egg the lax bros’ house. This is what earns them dibs. (p8/9)

Jack thinks Bitty’s worrying about him being hurt is adorable for about 5 minutes after he finds out that’s all there is to it. Then it’s kind of annoying. They are playing hockey, after all. But it’s okay in the end, because it leaves a little tiny scar, and Bitty likes to kiss it (and his cheekbone) frequently. (p11)

Ransom is one of those people who sleeps hot. Holster is not. Therefore, he is substantially less likely to be wrapped up in a thousand blankets when he sleeps. This is the primary reason he is Mandy and Jenny’s favourite. That he refuses to believe in them is just bonus entertainment. (p13)

In this universe or some other grown up one, Ransom and Holster are permitted to coach peewee hockey together exactly once. They are much too into each other to be any good at it. Subsequent occasions, they are very purposefully separated. (Jack coaches with Nursey, because he’s smart enough to know he’d get distracted with Bitty. Dex with Ransom, Holster with Bitty, Shitty is FORCEFULLY kept away by Lardo. The coaching staff approves.) (p15)

Dex hates C. (p16)

The dying days of summer are Kent’s favourite time of year. Still warm enough to lounge comfortably in his swimming trunks (he has at least a dozen pairs), dog tags, and a snapback, next to his pool in Vegas, still cramming in calories before the season begins but after everyone’s started to come back from their scattered locales around the world. (p21)

It’s cold enough to see each other’s breath in the car, but in Kent’s rundown old Civic in a rest stop out of town after practice, they’re in their own world, and nothing else matters. (And now I’m crying about Pimms. p24)

Georgia Martin doesn’t entirely come out to the world, just stops hiding it. She marries her college sweetheart, who, yes, plays for the Canadian team, and in her next thirst trap photoshoot (because Hilary Knight absolutely took inspiration from her), she’s wearing her ring. There’s no accompanying story for an explanation. Someone else asks her wife whose ring she’s wearing, and “George’s” is the absolute truth, but it’s a few weeks later that someone asks how her husband is that that assumption is clarified. The more quick-witted put two and two together, but to date, they haven’t done a joint interview no matter how many people ask. (George’s wife coaches the Northeastern Huskies women’s team, because research decrees this plausible.) (I love George, and Julie Chu and Caroline Ouellette, why do you ask?) (p25)

Patater is real, because Tater’s instagram icon is a cat. Also, A91Mashkov means Tater is born in 1991, and is therefore a year younger than Jack and Kent, and was drafted the following year. I would also like to submit that justincoco, AKA Justin Oluransi (yes there is contradictory evidence but it validates intention here), does not know which of the two he is referring to as his boy. This interaction goes broadly unnoticed until they are friends and he gets Tater to follow him (cue the Holsom Taters because I am Like That.) (also yes, I realise I have contradicted myself in headcanons on the same page) (i have been reminded that complex polycules mean i am not contradicting myself) (p32)

[roswellroamer]

Tsumkwe to Rundu, Namibia on the Okavango river and Angolan border. 4/24/19. About 400km

We took our time this morning. Made to order breakfast of eggs, sausage and bacon along with toast, juice, cereal and yogurt. We gathered around for a while and didn't roll out until near 9:30. We rode for a while and stopped at a bushman village. We are a real oddity in this way out of the way area. The kids come running to the road to wave everywhere today the entire day. The group of bush people that gathered around us when we stopped were very friendly and happy. They showed us how they shoot arrows with the very small bushman bow and small arrows. The bushmen are known to be awesome trackers and hunters. All these kids were learning the bow. Also they use a deadly poison that supposedly once the skin is pierced with it the animal will surely die. The clicking noises along with their language are really interesting. Then, after the obligatory poses with our bikes and wanting their pictures taken, Gavin brought out the Mavic Air drone. This was now getting the whole village out to watch. Gavin flew it down the highway to another group coming towards us, bringing lots of clicking and excitement. We waved good bye and went on down the road. The crushed limestone base is hardened into what seems like pavement but still mostly covered with sand and gravel. The main tracks in each direction are however nearly 50% exposed. Some ruts and rocks but largely a smooth ride today even though much of it at least time wise was on a D highway we averaged 100-120km/hr. We had our first flat tires today. While waiting with our new bushman friends, the "bucky" (what Aussies and S. African folks call a pickup truck) had a rear tire get slit. They had a spare so that is what gave us so much time with the locals. Later this afternoon on a long stretch to Rundu, Andy ran out of gas about 25k shy of town and his mate Jim fetched him a can of gas. Also Gavin had a front flat and spent some time on the side getting the wheel off before the truck arrived. Eventually the rest of us all made it to the gas station and then about 20k out to the Okavango river and the very nice Hakusembe River Lodge. Beautiful day of riding and the last 5k or so on the lodge's driveway likely provided the most off road challenge of the day! Beautifully landscaped with wide wooden decks and a swimming pool which has just doubled as an interim laundry since I went for a dip long before the support truck got here with my clothes. Still no Wi-Fi which seems to even piss off the SA crew. I didn't know what to expect but after two days here's hoping tomorrow's destination has it so I can let somebody know we're OK. Today we skipped lunch, there really was no place or town at all moving up towards the Caprivi. Very desolate and beautiful. We also found that we had been in elephant and lion territory but that we hadn't seen any. One of the guards at the multiple animal/vegetable checkpoints told us about that. We had a couple stops today where they'd check out licenses and sign a log form but no real hassles. One interesting section of the D highway before we got on the tar for the last 142k to Rundu was our passing through a series of farms. Not that farms would be unusual but here the gates to keep their cattle in ran across the road. I lost count after a dozen. I would guess north of 16 or 18 gates that required us to dismount and open then close after we passed. Also a number of cattle grates to ride over and one farmer who tended his gate and waved us through. The D roads have even more mounds growing up along the tire tracks. We suspect these are termite mounds in an early stage that should be graded away whenever the Namibian folks get around to grading. Interesting country. Still heading mostly north after 5 days and still in Namibia. HUGE! 🇳🇦 and under populated. My SA mates say that there are only two million folks in this huge country. Namibia is about 1/12 the size of the US (bigger than Texas plus other states) but with only 2.5M people!

They say there are crocs in the river here so I'm gonna stick to the pool. This is a pretty 'lux resort so we should have a good dinner. Gonna go join the group on the deck over the river for a cool refreshment. 🍺 Now I am on board the "sunset" cruise full of European folks (German, Swiss and Dutch) some with huge telephoto lenses. We stopped over on the Angola side of the river and saw a border post just up the hill. 🇦🇴 Lots of cool birds. Night heron, cormorants, open billed storks, egrets, some crocodiles and also monitor lizards. It turned into a booze cruise with choices of alcoholic beverages and a nice snack assortment including cheeses and Kudu biltong (jerky). I should also mention that due to the truck's late arrival and the impromptu swim in my riding shirt and skivvies, I was likely the most underdressed on the boat ride. What the heck, I was still sporting more fabric than most of the Euro folks in their banana hammocks! Dinner was a buffet but first class. A salad bar with must've been thirty + choices, butternut soup, springbok steak, oryx stew, lots of side dishes and a dessert bar. They also served everyone Pimm's with some fruit. A great evening on the deck right on the Okavango, looking across the river to Angola. The wait staff has banded together a number of time for example to welcome me back from the sunset cruise. The last singing group came by the tables after dinner and one of them was inquiring if anyone would like some grappa or after dinner liqueurs. One other thing I think I'll mention before bed is that once we got onto the Rundu highway, there was a steady stream of villages and even items for sale every few kilometers alongside the road. People walking, school kids, families, workers even passing some sort of community gathering of maybe 200 people circled around under a tree for who knows what. In general today was almost like a parade route as we spent the first half of the day in bushman country feeling like oddities as we passed by garnering attention from nearly everyone and waving with gusto. The last stretch I referred to above was a much more heavily traveled paved highway so we were no longer one of the only attractions riding by, however most folks especially children offered a wave and I waved a LOT especially those last couple hours on the B8 into Rundu. 👋 Tomorrow we enter the Caprivi, a beautiful strip of land that Namibia owns heading eastward. If you haven't seen the NatGeo documentary film Into the Okavango, please check it out. It is about the river delta just down from here and it is amazing. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/films/okavango/

[monstaxnight]

which kind of summer vacation the members would be into? how would they spend their time in summer? i don’t know if that makes sense 🧐 your blog is giving me energy to survive thank you soo much ❤️

You’re welcome, anon. I’m so glad my blog brings you energy. 💪🏻💘

I’ll write your request as though he’s taking you on vacationsomewhere and has chosen where to go and the things he wants to dowith you. I hope this is the kind of thing you wanted!

Warning: Quite long. I let my uwu’s fly high on this one.

Shownu: I think Shownu would take you on a road trip of some kind,probably within Korea. He’d have this idea of exploring the parts ofhis own country he’d never seen before. I imagine he’d be  big intothe outdoors and being one with nature; exploring mountain trails,chasing scenic views, sleeping on the beach under a blanket ofglimmering stars, picnics in blooming meadows and barbecues next togently flowing rivers. He’d probably want you to fish with him. He’dprobably want you to just ‘go pee behind the bushes’ claimingthat ‘it’s freeing – how do you think people coped beforeplumbing?’. A whole summer of just you, him and your rentedvan-come-accommodation and the great adventure of nature and noplans. There’d definitely be no phones or internet unless absolutelynecessary.

Wonho: Wonho would definitely take you to an island paradise. Fiji,Mauritius, Hawaii, somewhere like that, where you’d stay in one ofthose super fancy little huts that sit out in the clearest of clearwaters. There would be long, sunny days of surfing and drinkingcoconut water straight from the fruit itself followed by stickynights of torch lit dinners on your private decking and dips in thejacuzzi after. You’d hire a scooter to get around the bumpy roads,ditching it to follow a half-drawn map to a stunning waterfall whereyou’d swim in the pool and kiss under the falls. You’d act like youwere going to push him into the deep part of the pool and he’dscrunch up his face and tell you you were the meanest person he’dever met.

Minhyuk:London orParis.Definitelysomewhere in Europe, at least. Somewhere he could feel cultured,metropolitan and chic. He’d rent an airbnb in a picturesque Georgiantownhouse and you’d walk hand and hand around the little bourgeoisieshops in Camden Town and Notting Hill (quotingto each other from the movie– which he insisted you watch before going)before taking the tube to the Tate Modern where he’d act like he wasan art aficionado and bullshit general info about Hirst and Warhol.He’d definitely want you to go to Wimbledon ifyou were there while it was on, whether you liked tennis or not, andyou’d stuff your face with strawberries and cream and get tipsy onPimms.

Kihyun: Somewhere like the Great Barrier Reef. Kihyun would want totake you to a place that he believed had it all; sun, sea, adventure,aesthetics and luxury. Being a photographer, he’d arrange forsnorkelling amongst the coral and tropical fish, searching for theperfect picture. He’d also surprise you with a helicopter trip abovethe reef and the surrounding area. At night, he’d take you out ondates to various different restaurants; some fancy and some morerelaxed. If there was music, you better believe he’d invite you up todance and not give a shit what anyone else thought – he knows he’sa better dancer than anyone else there. When you got home, he’dsurprise you with a memory stick full of candid, secretpictures he’d snapped of you on the vacation, pictures you hadn’tknown he’d taken.

Hyungwon:LikeMinhyuk, Hyungwon would want to take you somewhere cosmopolitan.Unlike Minhyuk, I think he’d rather stick to places he knows. I couldsee him perhaps wanting to visit a place like Kyoto, where you’dexperience culture and tradition while still being in an Easterncountry and a city environment. By day you’d explore thegeisha district and Fushimi Inari-taisha, taking artsypics for the gram and contentedly enjoying each other’s tranquilpresence. Bynight, you’d hit the noisybarsandclubsof down-town. You’d be staying in a luxury hotel, probably one with abath visible to the bedroom, so he could watch you bathe andget ready from the comfort of the bed.Even though you were doing everything to quite an exclusive price,you’d still get the metro everywhere and pick up most of your foodfrom simple fast food restaurants.

Jooheon: New York. The skyscrapers, the American style, thecity-that-never-sleeps experience. He’d book you into one of thosecrazy high hotels and freak out when he opened the curtains and sawhow high up you actually were. 'no, seriously, babe, we’re goingto have to get a different room. how can we sleep likethis?’ You’d head to trendy Manhattan and catch a couple ofBroadway shows and get the ferry to the Statue of Liberty where you’dtake kissy selfies in the rain. You’d walk hand in hand around TimesSquare at night, wowing at everything you saw and share a hot dog,each eating one end until you met in the middle and kissed. Themessier you got, the funnier.

I.M: He’d take you back to Israel to show you where he had lived forthose years and then take you on a pilgrimage of sorts to Jerusalem.He’d love to tell you all about the place’s history, and explore thelandmarks and markets/bazaars of the old city with you. He’d getexcited about the spirituality of the place, and would want you tofeel it, too. You’d stay in a top floor apartment with great viewsover the city’s flat roofs and gold domes, and you’d fuck at thewindow while the sun sets and lie lazily on the love seat togetherafterwards, feeding each other middle eastern delicacies you’d boughtat the market that afternoon, and listen to the bustle of the citywell into the night.

I wanted to add gifs to this post but the ones on offer were all shitty and none of them suited the vibe of each scenario fml