I Was Bored So I Made Some Shitty Wheatley Pride Pfps (if Ppl Like These Ill Make More)

i was bored so i made some shitty wheatley pride pfps (if ppl like these i’ll make more)

WHO WAS GONNA TELL ME THERES A NEW TIDAL RUSH REMIX???

fictober '24 day #4 - "no, we're not doing that"

fandom: doctor who fanfiction

“Where to tonight?” “Hm, I’m thinking Darillium. I’ve been wanting to go for ages, but something always comes up.” 

For once, their timelines seemed to be fairly lined up. Professor River Song had been in Stormcage for a few years now, and the Doctor was simply floating around, waiting for the Ponds to ring. 

It had become a nightly thing for the Doctor to pop into Stormcage in the TARDIS, usually sporting a new bowtie, sonic open River’s cell, and whisk her away for a night of wonder and beauty across the stars. Pretty normal date for two space-and-time travelers. 

The Doctor couldn’t deny his aversion to going to Darillium - yes, it was high on his wife’s ‘bucket list’, and yes it was considered one of the top-ten most romantic places in the universe - but going would seal River’s fate, and the Doctor wasn’t quite ready for that to happen. 

“No, we’re not doing that. Not yet, at least.” 

River frowned. “Why not? It’s romantic, I want to go, you’ve probably never been-” The Doctor started bouncing around the console, cutting off River before she could finish. “There were no reservations at the restaurant there. Yes, that’s why.” “Sweetie, you’re a time traveler. Since when has ‘no reservations’ ever stopped you?” 

“Since right now, any other choices?” 

River sighed and sat in one of the springy, weathered yellow chairs. She really wondered why he didn’t just replace these things when his console room had changed. For god’s sake, the TARDIS was vast - basically never-ending - and fully intelligent. What stopped her from fixing a few seats? 

“Dinner would be nice.” 

“Then dinner it shall be. Y’know, I keep seeing reviews for this one place on Hephastos in the fifty-fifth century, apparently they have the best fish fingers in the universe, plus painters and musicians simply everywhere…” He continued on like this whilst pressing buttons and turning knobs, et cetera, et cetera. 

River, meanwhile, was deep in thought. In the roughly twenty to one hundred years she had known the Doctor - the years tended to blur together for her, she had no idea how long it had actually been, or really a specific idea of how old she was - any time she brought up Darillium, he changed the subject and moved on. She had known the whole time that they were meeting in reverse order - the more she knew him, the less he knew her. Presumably, he had already been through her last meeting with him. He most likely knew her end, which presumably had to do with Darillium, and everyone knows that the Doctor hates endings.

“Aha, we’re here.” The Doctor said, peeking his head out the front door. “Just making sure there aren’t any hungry creatures out there to, ah, eat us.” He poked his head out again before shutting the door behind him. “Maybe we’ll come back next week.” 

River couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. If there was anything the Doctor could do best, it was fly his TARDIS and land in the worst possible moments. She decided this was her cue to stop pondering their never-ending paradox that was their timeline and help him fly the ship. 

She pecked him on the cheek and put her hands on top of his on a lever. “Allow me, sweetie.” 

The Doctor became a bit flustered before stepping back. River flew the TARDIS expertly, landing it perfectly in the front lot of the restaurant he was talking about, and not in the middle of a hungry mob. Dinner was spectacular - as always - and the volcanic sunset on the planet did not disappoint. 

River had almost entirely forgotten about her train of thought about Darillium - it was covered up by cheesy compliments and quick kisses from her husband. If Darillium really meant the end of this, maybe she didn’t want to go too badly. 

bored on zoom meeting yesterday 👍

fictober 2024 - day 1 - 'that was good work'

fandom: splatoon fanfiction

Agent 3 collapsed near Cuttlefish Cabin. They were exhausted. They had hit a particularly hard kettle, and despite the Captain’s assurance that it was quite alright for them to move on, or simply stop for the day, they pushed themselves to finish. Not only that - they had then decided to keep going and do another two kettles. At the rate this squid was going, they’d be squaring up with the Octarian Menace by daybreak the next day! 

The sun was barely visible between the large octopus carving’s tentacles. The sky was streaked with orange and pink light, with the stars just beginning to twinkle. It was starting to get chilly outside, and Three was happy for the extra layers of clothing their Hero Suit gave them. 

They had a new gash on one of their tentacles. Maybe this would be the excuse they needed to cut ‘em short. It was a tiny cut, although it would most likely scar. There were various stains of purple and green ink on their gear, and their leggings had a worn hole in them. 

Cuttlefish left the cabin, leaning on his  bamboozler-turned-cane. 

“You alright there, squiddo?” 

Three nodded wearily. They didn’t talk much anyways, and they were too tired to make a sound. 

“That was good work out there. You did great.” 

Three didn’t respond. They were tired. They didn’t think that they’d done great today - they’d passed out a couple of times, and had to respawn more times then they could count. 

Cuttlefish put his hand on their shoulder. “Whatever you think, you kicked some Octarian butt. Only a handful more until we face off against the DJ.” 

Three half-heartedly nodded again. 

“C’mon, let’s get ya inside.” They lived much too far out of the city to even think about getting back home. Three was too tired to move, and instead simply shifted into squid form. They were perfectly content staying on the old cabin’s patio, but the Captain wouldn’t allow it. The old man picked them up, and reentered the cabin. He set them down on top of the futon, tossed an old quilt over them, and went to sit in his battered armchair. Three, not opening their eyes, reached their tentacles out blindly to grab one of the many zapfish plushies strewn around the room and clutched it close. 

“Sleep tight, kiddo.” i figured i'd give fictober a try! i'm hoping to keep up with fics for all my fandoms, but we'll see!

i need to buy a snow globe