#like maybe we don't need to drive on land in the space game?

[bluemoon-golden]

I know I've complained about the Mako a lot. And I will continue. I hate it, I do.

But also wow I forgot how BAD the Hammerhead is??? Why is my floating car doing its best to crash into the ground all the time??? I can't zoom at all to aim? There's no life bar???? I had to go through a whole mission with flying intermissions in??

[empireofthestates]

If you are one of the people who will be directly affected by Project 2025 - if you are transgender, a woman, lgbtqia+, an immigrant, or atheist, I strongly encourage you to formulate an escape/survival plan.

IF YOU PLAN TO LEAVE THE COUNTRY:

Join expat groups on Faceb00k. People will often post housing, job offers, or general advice in these groups that may be beneficial when moving. (Expat groups I'm in: Mexico: 1, 2, 3, 4 / Canada: 1, 2, 3 / Sweden: 1, 2 / Germany: 1, 2)

Apply for a U.S. Passport. As it currently stands, you can't travel to many places internationally without one. If you are trying to move before refugee status is available, this document will become necessary. Passports are still backed up right now, and can take months to arrive. If you are able, start applying now!

Brush up on any marketable skills. Look into the country you want to move to and see if you have any skills they are in need of! Lots of countries will often expedite your immigration status if you have skills they need.

Make sure you can take your pets with you. Lots of countries have breed restrictions (for instance, the U.K. has banned pitbulls and other bully breeds). Make sure that wherever you are going, you can take your pets. Look into travel options for dogs (airline, cruise, etc.) If you can't take your pets, make a plan to leave them with someone stateside who will take care of them. Do your best to minimize the risk of them ending up at a shelter.

Buy a house in your desired country. Many countries, such as Portugal, view buying property in their country as a verifiable means of immigration. Many countries also have lower housing prices than the U.S. so it may be more financially feasible than buying stateside.

Move closer to the border. If you plan to move somewhere that shares a land border with the U.S., consider moving closer to that border. My partner and I are currently looking at moving from South Carolina to Washington state so that if the time comes, we are that much closer to the border.

Figure out how you're going to get there. If you are driving, (Canada, Mexico), look into importing your car. Canada has specific regulations about what kinds of cars are allowed to be imported due to their strict environmental protection laws.

Learn the language. Duolingo and YouTube University are both free!

IF YOU CAN'T LEAVE THE COUNTRY, STILL FORMULATE A PLAN:

Create a community. Make friends with people of a similar mindset as you. Collaborate amongst each other to keep each other safe. Create groups in your local area. Meet at the library or a local park. Make connections and allies so when the time comes, you are not alone.

Find out what assets you can liquidate quickly for extra cash. If you have things like gold jewelry, keep those. Gold is often better than cash (especially if inflation keeps going up). However, gaming consoles, collectibles, and antiques may be easily sold/pawned if you need to get cash quickly. Make notes of what valuables you have.

Learn survival skills. Maybe not completely necessary, but rather safe than sorry. Learn how to build a shelter, start a fire, and forage. I did most of my survival training at a YMCA. YouTube and your local library are also great places to look!

Create spaces in your home where you can hide things. Make false bottoms in dresser drawers. Make a false wall in your closet or a hidden crawlspace access.

Stockpile the things you need. If you need certain meds to function, try to find alternative ways to get them. If you have the money to buy extra canned food, put them away in storage. If you smoke, stockpile cigarettes or other tobacco products. Those may also be helpful for trading later.

Protect yourselves. If you have no other choice, find a way to protect yourself if the time comes. Whether that is through allies or weapons, PROTECT YOURSELF. At the end of the day, your life is more important than your politics. Don't be a Batman when N@zis are on the loose.

MOST IMPORTANTLY:

Do not lose hope! More than anything, people have the "indomitable human spirit." When push comes to shove, humanity fights back. Generations before us have fought to protect themselves before, and we will do it again. Our communities will survive.

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Going

Tomorrow I pick up my brother from the airport and we drive down to the cabin.

Plans include a quick stop at the grocery for a favorite snack for the trip, and a refill at the gas station. The trip says it takes 2.5 hours so I think the plan is to leave here 2.5 hours earlier than the flight lands. That gives me [time he has deplaning and getting his belongings out to the street] to get gas and snack, and still go at an unhurried pace.

We have a petsitter coming in, so I'm washing the upstairs restroom for her. Aside from scrubbing out the tub the big thing is tidying up the counters, where I have kind of just been leaving treatment kits or tooth care paraphernalia splayed all over.

Given the timing of things, I'll wash my sheets today and sleep on the fresh sheets tonight, rather than trying to do a full wash tomorrow morning.

Need to get packed. I'm going to pack for a 5-day even though I think it's only 4. It's a drive, so I'm not at any shortage of space. I'll also take dress clothes in case it turns out everyone else considers the spreading of the ashes a formal event.

Come to think of it, I have space to bring a card game along. We could play Shadowrift or Marvel Champions at some point on the road, or at the cabin itself. I might bring The Dwarf King to leave at the cabin. Maybe it's because of all of the games of Hearts we played at the cabin, and how similar The Dwarf King is to that genre, but it feels very much like "a cabin kind of card game."

I'm making fudge today. As long as I start making it by 8 tonight I'm good, because then I can do the cutting by 8:45 and there's no problem with letting it sit and continue hardening in the fridge overnight. It won't take long to load into the tin if I wait until tomorrow morning to do that.

I may put together a playlist, but I don't know. [Edit: I never got rid of my "Driving" playlist after my old computer died, so that's handled]

Today's picture is a neighbor's "wishing well" planter. A cute option, especially if you want to prominently display a plant but it needs partial shade!

[llynwen]

wow! That was such an enlightening and beautiful answer to my question, thank you so very much, and congratulations on graduating soon🎉! I felt that same thrill of recognition seeing the people and their homes on the show, because yes poverty really is the same all over. I live in a blue collar town in northeast America, with forested hills instead of wetlands and logging instead of fishing, but I look at their clothes, at the places they hang out, at the porches and lawns filled with clutter and machine parts nestled between the trees, at the small dark house interiors, and I think "this all could've been filmed down the street from me." It must look depressing to others but I find comfort in the familiarity. We're all just surviving as best we can nestled in the detritus of abandoned industry and reclaiming nature, keeping our lives manageably small with little daily tasks and rewards, and beyond our town limits the land itself infinite as space. I guess that bigness is what sets apart American life, thousands of people go missing in the wilderness every year and it's just taken as a given. There's a whole plane that crashed in a Vermont forest in the 80s which I believe still hasn't been found. One thing not shown onscreen, and I don't mind this since true detective is a horror drama and it wouldn't fit the tone, are the threads of community we maintain—church suppers, family game and movie nights at the library, small town festivals, Christmas tree lightings in the square and such. Life is a patchwork of privation and joy.

One thing I will advise you about if you come here (welcome btw) is picking the state with the best resources for you. Montana is gorgeous but the New England states have the best healthcare, and the east coast in general has the most public transit with our trainlines. If what matters is the job than you can visit anywhere I guess, but outside of the cities you better have a coworker/host with a reliable car willing to drive you around, because otherwise you will be stuck and lonely in the miles between anywhere. We joke about Rust being a passenger princess but bumming rides is a way of life here. Other than that, don't whistle at night in the southwest, always being more money than you think is needed to the store, look up any Indigenous nation near where you stay to maybe visit their cultural center, and have a good time!

hi again! so sorry for taking this long to respond, I've been busy with school and other shit, you know how it is

america is such a fascinating and complex place fr, and the negative aspects of it you mention were never shown in the media i (and may other europeans) consume. we're fed this image of this perfect land of the free american dream you can achieve anything if you work hard enough self made man kind of thing. but I'm glad to hear that you have this community - in my experience, that is not really the case here. i hardly ever talk to my neighbors (occasional good mornings and that about it), i don't go to church, but the people who do also don't really know one another, people only every talk to their family members and friends from places like school and work. i feel like in this aspect we could for sure learn from y'all.

when i do come visit I'm pretty sure it wont be permanent (unless chevy does actually wife me, then who knows). i just want to get a taste of that cowboy life i crave so much. i want to see the national parks (hope i don't go missing) and spend some time in the Space of it all. I am aware of the lack of public transport and i am prepared to drive everywhere, but thank you for the heads up. i also know about tax not being included in prices of stuff - which, what the fuck. that's so stupid. same with tipping - why not just pay workers living wages? I will for sure be taking the time to visit the Indigenous people in the places where I'll be staying. I'm actually writing my master's thesis about the Anishinaabe and Inuit people, and even though my area of focus is canada I'm sure I'll learn a great deal from the Indigenous people of the us as well.

thank you again for talking to me (and for your patience), and I'd really love for you to come off anon, be it in my dm's or under this post. I'd love to talk more about the show in general or just cultural issues. but no pressure!

[necrosin]

❝ i don't like to bet on losing dogs, ❞ there's something to be said for the violence of language, the way that they poke and prod but also stab and slash at each other with nothing more than their voices, their vague intensions, veils drawn back to reveal the horror of them in full. well, horror is a strong word —— how do you speak to someone who had meant THE WORLD TO YOU once upon a time? a long lost best friend, someone you had known as well as you had known yourself, if not better —— as far as suguru is concerned, why would he speak and act any differently than ever?

nothing has changed / everything has changed / is there a deeper hidden meaning in how they speak to each other, now? yes and no and maybe ; older and not really any wiser, perhaps, but still falling into old habits, their hands lodged too deeply into each other's chests to withdraw, nails sinking into hearts, lungs, soul, so on.

❝ and i know nothing short of decapitation would make you stop talking, ❞ he'd loved the way that satoru talked, the way his voice filled spaces and silence, how he would go on and on and on about anything and everything. he loves it still, really / knows that satoru isn't being succinct for the sake of it, instead doing it to MOCK HIM, a coy little joke at the idea of debating morality and principles for the millionth time between them —— haha, i don't care, childish things like that. something inside suguru burns in response / something like desirous wanting / something like frustrated longing / or maybe just frustration warring with unerring amusement. ❝ maybe not even that, ❞ satoru would talk his way through his death and funeral and cremation, somehow, laughing and crowing all the while.

I KNOW YOU, funny how it sounds throwaway but they both know it's the core of it all, the bleeding core, pulsing like a heart but nothing like one, all the same. ❝ did you expect me to go on a murderous rampage immediately? i thought you knew me, ❞ amusement soaked tone / honey soaked voice : the idea is humorous, really. if he were THE STRONGEST then, perhaps / but suguru knows perfectly well he isn't, that for all the power he holds he needs more to exact the reckoning that this world requires, desires ; elsewise, he would simply be walking into his own massacre, and we can't have that, can we? ❝ not all of us are THE STRONGEST, satoru, ❞ the title held lovingly, mockingly on his tongue. ❝ the rest of us require planning to carry out our lofty ideals, ❞ like chastising a child, softly condescending like i know you.

satoru presses / suguru presses in return, a morbid recreation, corpses shambling along —— ah, but neither of them were corpses, they were simply fools who couldn't stay away from each other, after all. satoru squeezes hard / suguru squeezes harder, always a push and pull, always a give and take, always action and reaction when it came to them and these silly games they like to play. that steadiness inside of him persists, the surety and absolution with which he chooses to enact justice prevailing even here, even with satoru / suguru is hardly one to waver and pale, ever with that PERSISTENT NEED to meet every challenge ( perceived or true ) head on, even with something as sickeningly saccharine as holding hands with his one and only.

and it isn't a secret what satoru gets up to, not really, the whole of the jujutsu world seems to follow near every moment he makes —— suguru doesn't bother going out of his way to avoid news about him or to receive it : it simply LANDS IN HIS LAP, and he finds he doesn't mind it. still / he wants to laugh and does, a ringing sort of thing, dredged up from the depths of love that curls with amusement. he bats his lashes like a coquette, would throw in biting his lip too to drive the point home, for the sake of teasing, but doesn't. ❝ you think i'm interesting, satoru? ❞ as if he hasn't known, as if it weren't a simple fact of their existence, as if that simple fact hadn't thrilled him as a boy, as if it doesn't thrill him now, still : this proof that he retains the focus of satoru's attention, always, their claws set deep into each other. ❝ i'm honored, ❞ were it possible to carve himself deeper into satoru, to pull apart his ribs with a soft sort of savagery, to settle himself further in, to spread that seeping rot, perhaps he would. perhaps satoru would let him, and isn't that a thought? a possessive sort of thing, a darkly amused sort of thing, like reaching further into satoru's chest and heart and soul until his hands scrape the bottom only to push beyond / because of course his being is infinite, too.

for a moment suguru searches for jealousy in satoru's face / to have and to hold. the idea of a WIFE is so amusing he could die for laughing at the concept / he thinks of his daughters and their laughs and their smiles and doing their hair for them and letting them to his whenever they wished. nothing was too much for his girls, not his love and not their wishes and wants and whims in this world / he loves them and wants to create a BETTER, KINDER WORLD FOR THEM, to spoil them rotten with his love for them.

his daughters, his girls, his most beloved blessings in all of the world —— he wants nothing but happiness for them, to watch them grow into their selves and their confidence and to challenge the world as surely as its challenged them. HIS DAUGHTERS / thinking of them in time with satoru is a strange idea, a strange concept, something disjointed and strange. he loves satoru —— the idea of introducing him to his daughters is utterly impossible, a smoke-like concept, something without substance, just trying to imagine the three of them in a room together brings up nothing at all, as if it were so improbable that the mind refuses to picture it.

but : suguru is a doting father, a fact that amuses his family to no end, tittering and laughing and teasing as the girls glow beneath his affection and love. ❝ my daughters are doing splendidly, ❞ lofty and adoring / not to mention deeply looking forward to any sign or indication of surprise on satoru's face at the mention of them, the idea of them. perhaps the idea of suguru with daughters is as impossible in his mind as suguru trying to imagine mimiko and nanako in satoru's presence. a soft, lamenting sigh, ❝ they've started fourth grade and are excelling, naturally —— they grow up so fast, ❞ he keeps the information vague, half—formed if that, just enough for satoru to determine that they're nine and twins and little else / THAT IS ALL SATORU IS AFFORDED OF THEM. suguru keeps his daughters close to his chest out of a protective instinct, wishing to keep them safe, their lives and existences so thoroughly separated from satoru that trying to place them in the same space would be CATACLYSMIC.

❝ as for my wife, ❞ the word feels unnatural on his tongue / the slant of his mouth a smirk, something morbidly mirthful / he wants to reach inside of satoru and inside of satoru and further and further and FURTHER. to tear him apart. to reach so far into him there's room for little else but suguru. ❝ he's estranged, ❞ A LAMENTING SIGH, NOW, utterly undermined beyond compare by the smirk deepening on his face, love rupturing inside of him, a bleeding and pitiful and relentless thing : satoru as his wife is laughable, really, the way that the question is, the way that the idea of suguru having a wife at all is. who else would he love even half as much? a quarter as much? there's something objectively foolish about digging out your heart and gouging out a place for it in someone else at the tender age of fifteen, but suguru doesn't especially want it back. ❝ we fought and he hasn't seen me in years, ❞ he pulls at their joined hands, bumping against his chest, there's no room to pull satoru closer, at this point, but still.

fingers tap against satoru's jaw, a slow movement, a practiced one, touch dragging against the firm line of it and beneath, touch like a ghost over the fragile skin. ❝ you know, satoru, life is much easier when you simply say what you want, ❞ a play at being the unaffected, to only be affecting. ❝ subterfuge doesn't suit you. ❞

❛ don't you wish. ❜ to behold suguru's wickedness, the brutal way he smiles sick and similar at the thrill of his own cruelty, it's almost too much for satoru's heart, set to burst from delight. at what moment would the knife twist again, the very real way they've shifted and grown again come heavy handed to beat against him? it didn't matter, he would repeat it to himself as many times as he needed to, as long as it would take for his brain to catch up with the lazy drag of hands / wrists / touches that would, in any other context, surely kill him for how much he'd wanted them. what could possibly drive him on, if not that want for suguru against him.

perhaps it would be best to concede, to give the ground that suguru wants over and lay bare the truth of it all. suguru passionate / satoru dispassionate: it would take nothing from him to roll his eyes and churn out faux disgust at the horrid things thrown at him so casually. perhaps, now that things were different, there would be something to it, an end in sight, but they're so stubborn and set that really there's nothing to be done but waste time —— and how much of that do they even have? it had been so easy last time, with those final words ( THERE'S A MEANING TO THAT, what tripe ) and the flex of his hands, grunting from some pained exertion to place them there in the first place.

it hadn't been enough: for him to claw his way inside suguru, to curl his fingers around his heart just to hold, just to see what would happen. to let suguru feast on him and to feast in return: there's a frenzy to it now, a desperation he'd not thought possible, but it was all so normal then, daily and casual as cherry-pop and sweat. the implausible fact of them, to make himself so almost dependent on the rush of love that he'd never thought to scour for again. he was manic, hungry, bedding inside another body and mind for the simple reason that he could.

if suguru could break that, could slice through the conjoined parts of them ( how it festered, how it stunk ) like it was nothing, he'd have no trouble walking away now.

❛ but i know you —. ❜ how true, even now. ❛ i give you an inch and you take a mile. ❜ a click of his tongue, a roll of his eyes, like this is all so far below him he cannot fathom speaking another word. ❛ but y'know suguru, there is something i've been noticing. there's an awful lot of non-sorcerers still around —— is this the 'best' you were talking about? ❜

there was always something else to do, somewhere else to be : people to save, yada yada. he didn't think of suguru constantly, had the willpower and want to avoid the snaking thoughts that rolled into him when it was warm, or cold, or when he saw glimpse of ink-dark hair wrapped around itself. the unavoidable taste of sweets and nice things —— he'd never tried to purge himself, couldn't rid the rot that settled deep within him. but he would never deny himself that twisted pleasure, indulging in his own sickness alone and quiet where he couldn't be caught, wouldn't be found turning over memories and searching for a new way to hurt himself. a survival mechanism maybe, he liked to think of it as a treat.

half-truth. how rude.

the contorting of their hands, falling into place. palm to palm, satoru presses his flat, the boyish want for proximity, and squeezes hard, once. the tips of their shoes hit, and he moves his ( just ) so there's a tiny overlap, a tiny threat. it excites him beyond belief. ❛ aren't you sweet, still feeding my ego after all this time. ❜ again he coos, shoulders leaning effeminate and pointedly. if there's anything that's shy about suguru ( and what could he be shy about , it's a fact so innate to them ) he'd have gouged it out for the sheer audacity of its presence. the light floats around them, the world still spinning, and for a glorious moment he pokes suguru's cheek, nail digging into the skin bending under him. ❛ i really didn't think you had it in you, suguru. ❜

perhaps that is his confession / the omission of his guilt / proof of flushed long-lived longing for summer because words never meant much to him. he finds himself shocked at his lack of lamenting, had imagined the hours he spent mourning would return to him but his eyes are dry and his stomach settled. what a mess they've made, what a sad honest they've laid bare to poke and scratch at: if he'd done something different … no no no. we can't go over this again.

❛ my guts are spilled thanks, and it's no secret what i get up to. ❜ by nature of his being, and by nature of him being very loud and incapable of shutting up. he cocks his head, heavy eyelashes, if he's going to make all this mean something it's going to be easier than he'd thought. suguru is unshakable in his principles: satoru knows this better than anyone, and i miss you is good enough to prove that love still suffers within him and he wants to grasp at every straw handed to him, too used to gifts and open palms and affection smeared thick across him. ❛ you on the other hand, are a variable platter of intrigue. ❜

satoru loves suguru, but for all the love in them the story still changes from theirs to their own. he'll live and rule without it, he'll never try to bury the parts of him still fat from it and he'll think ( when he lets himself ) about the world with them in it. he can never go home, never bothered to make himself a new one so now ——

he'll claw his way back into suguru's stupid, principled world.

❛ how's work, suguru? — how's the wife and kids? any nice holidays booked? ❜ ugh, and even as he says it ( as he jokes ) jealously from the thought blinds him. he purses his lips, raises his eyebrows, too intrigued for his own good. he cannot have all of suguru's attention, knows that it's a blind want and so doesn't bother thinking about it, but still —— satoru is destined to drive away any girl that looks at him twice. it would be unfair of suguru to one-up him.

❛ any more villainous rampages planned? it's best you tell me now, i don't keep up with the news. ❜ he snickers, still looking untamed and busy. the thought had occurred to him ( running, the sound of his heart in his ears, pounding in his head ) that this was a sick last hurrah: the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. he really, really doesn't want that to be true —— but.

[ignitesthestxrs]

Alright we know that the whole dragon nonsense in King Of Scars was bad, but I'm curious the direction you would have taken with the ending

laughing a little because i started this off going 'i don't think i can answer this because the second half of KoS was so incoherent' but then i did a Me and well, here we are.

i think the whole thing should have been a game of nations political intrigue coping with like, how does a non-Grisha king cope with ruling his vulnerable nation in the wake of a civil war when the nations surrounding him are a) very anti Grisha and b) making use of Grisha power via parem in new and terrifying ways. all the while that same king is dealing with his own terrible monster.

if you REALLY needed to bring the darkling back, just have him as the quiet demon voice in the back of nikolai's brain. not only is he then like, taunting this little king with all the things he can't do and can't control, but it also adds a really interesting dimension to the zoya and nikolai relationship because the zoya definitely WANTED to fuck the darkling at some point (unsure at this point if it's ever implied that she succeeded, but it was a driving part of her character in the first book and i think it does a disservice to her complexity and the fact that she changed her mind on where she stood with him to pretend that this was never an aspect of who she was).

like sorry but nikolai trying to cope with falling for zoya when he has the quiet snide commentary of king bitch aleksander darkling whispering about the sounds she made for him when a part of the tension of the zoyalai relationship is that the king really should not marry a Grisha for political reasons at this point and zoya is definitely not going to become a mistress when she has power in her own right? That's Hot. nikolai falling for women who the darkling characterises as having been His First? Nice. those women being fucking furious about this characterisation? even better.

i also like, 800% thought that the bone bridge we got at the very beginning of the book was made by nina lol, and i was looking forward to her becoming like, the new grisha power in this world? and i think you could have done way more with the parem dependency with nina. i think the 'try it once and you're almost definitely an addict forever, but definitely if you try it twice' framing of this magic drug is a stupid and harmful depiction of any addictive substance lol, and it would have been an interesting and fresh take if the novel had treated it like an actual addictive substance and had nina having to wrestle with that addiction? especially in the wake of the death of her lover and a new quest that requires her to be at her most powerful.

make nina one of the problems that nikolai has to deal with! have her be collecting grisha from different nations that treat them poorly and have those nations blame ravka and nikolai! the whole point of nikolai's character has always been that he is a man who will put the survival of his country (and also like, his position as king!) above everything else, so make him prove that by acting against a different beloved character.

and like, complicating factors, maybe nina-on-parem has the ability to scrape the darkling remnants out of him and nikolai ultimately refuses to do this because having the darkling in his brain gives him an edge. maybe being a monster is the price he pays for the defence of ravka. or maybe he fucking slips and it leads another country (or an alliance of countries) to declare war on ravka because it's being led by a literal monster and a part of the maneouvring he has to do in the wake of this is like, offering land to nina and her grisha who otherwise are refusing to help the defense of the country.

IDK there's just so much that you can do in this space lolol, overall i think the mistake of king of scars esp in the second half is that it was too focused on bringing the darkling back and like, creating New Things In This World that had no real basis in the first two series. the plot and narrative tension in the second half weren't seeded anyway in the prior books, didn't build on anything that had happened in them and, worse than that, were basically untethered from shit that was seeded in the first half of the same book.

[ca-8]

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.' 

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus. 

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said. 

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him. 

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper. 

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building. 

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her. 

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't. 

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger. 

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder. 

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could. 

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant. 

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile. 

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed. 

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses? 

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.  

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin. 

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him. 

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”. 

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat. 

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand. 

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet. 

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).” 

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times. 

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place. 

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality. 

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal. 

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath. 

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!” 

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

[melmac78]

For the ask game: 6 for John please

How would I spend the day with John?

Well, clearly it's space themed somewhat … but as I'd expect he'd visit these two places for sure I wouldn't be taking him to the traditional NASA/Space Center Houston (Texas) or Cape Kennedy (Florida).

I'd argue he'd be interested in touring the remains of the Trinity Project site, but as that's an all day event and you really wouldn't see much - I think he'd skip it unless he really needed sleep.

(The Trinity Project site is open only twice a year as it's on the White Sands Military base. It's the site where they tested the first nuclear bomb, and really from what I've seen and read, there isn't much).

So, we'd go to the New Mexico Museum of Space History in Alamogordo, New Mexico and tour the building.

He'd probably be like me - but worse, correcting folks on names of astronauts next to the scale models of the original projects.

(No seriously - for as much as they talk about Alan Shepard himself and John Glenn's Friendship 7 mission, they sure do use a lot of photos of Gordon Cooper for references to items. Cooper wasn't even from New Mexico. Several of the doctors and physicians who whittled down the 32 applicants to 7 were that I know of, and the original 7 had their physicals in a clinic in Albuquerque).

He'd likely too get a kick out of seeing all the rockets and test tracks and such.

Don't know if the staff would be appreciative or annoyed he’d talk people through the landing of shuttles in the simulators (they have fun seeing folks try but fail spectacularly…) then debate the rocket building. (He Would have some issues about the experiences of the experience if you were in a rocket or shuttle for several projects).

We'd likely skip the planetarium and Omni, but instead go to White Sands National Park (not part of the base) and have fun walking and sliding down the sand dunes. (Yes, we'd get the sleds to do this, and hilarity would ensue. There'd be perks here with him being well known- he would have a lifetime pass to the parks).

Afterward, we'd likely go to either Pistachioland for pistachios (maybe sample some wine) or just head up 18 miles to Cloudcroft, stopping at the Red Barn Restaurant to eat a good burger and fries (I preferred theirs over the restaurant I ate at in Cloudcroft, though it too was good), maybe see the railroad trestle bridge too.

If the weather was pleasant we'd eat outside and enjoy the mountain view (it was too windy and cold for me to do this last go).

The rest of the day would be enjoying the mountains in Cloudcroft, some shopping (if the weather was nice - the snow does stay there even in 60*F temps), drive by the museum (I'll be honest it'd be closed by the time we got there), do some walking around the cabin site and then turn in for the night. It would either be two separate cabins or one of the larger ones with two separate rooms.

Thanks for the ask.

[limenysnocket]

Attention and Company

I couldn't help myself. @honorarytenenbaum

Summary: Sometimes you need someone to chill with, and that's okay. Maybe that person is your boyfriend who also gets a little roughed up at work sometimes. Pubs can sustain you both for only so long, but what you really need is to curb yourselves in the mall parking lot, right next to a shaved ice food truck.

Warnings: Just some light swearing, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and some brief mentions to "raunchy" behavior. This is a soft fic for y'all tonight, out here needin' some gentle lovin'.

A/N: Got some lonely feelings right now. I just wanna hug someone, dude. Yo, we could totally watch a movie over discord sometime... maybe.

○●□○●□○●□○●□○

Today sucked. Flat out. The bags under your eyes didn't lie, and now here you were, outside of your studio, sitting on the hood of your car, eating a granola bar to stave off hunger for a few more hours. Hopefully.

You pull your phone from your pocket, looking at the time for a moment, then looking at your screensaver. It was the only thing that could make you smile. You had your arm wrapped around one of your closets friends, Taika, and the phone didn't capture it, but he had his arm wrapped around your waist. His curls were all messed up, and the picture perfectly showed how drunk you both were by the fuzzy pink on your cheeks. It was 99 cent beer night at one of the local pubs, and unlike the first one held at a baseball game, all went well.

Of course, there was a limit to how much the two of you were allowed to drink, but that didn't stop the many failed attempts at stealing other people's drinks while they were looking away, just to get a taste more. Didn't matter that you guys were eventually thrown out of the bar for breaking rules and coming close to breaking a few faces, you had a great night.

That night also lead to a few other places, including his hotel room, but that end of the story has to be saved for another time.

Instead of staring at your phone for another century, you decide to unlock it and dial the man up. You knew he was somewhere around here, either charming his way onto another movie set to mess with his rich friends, or getting his tired ass kicked by daylight savings.

His number was saved to your favorites, so dialing him was quick and easy. The wait for him to pick up didn't last long either.

"Talk to me..."

God, his voice sounds like one big yawn. Looks like he needs a bit of perking up too.

"I've got two curbside tickets to eat a snow cone and watch kids do loops on their bikes in the parking lot. One of those tickets has your name on them," you grin, despite sounding exhausted too. The day really made you strain your voice.

His musical laughter really makes the sun look brighter from its low position in the sky.

"That's oddly specific... where would these magical tickets take me afterwards?" He had cocked his eyebrows up and leaned against his office door while he spoke to you.

"If this were a booty call, I would have told you already, Taik," you snort and tease him. "So, it's either make yourself fat on some weirdly flavored snow cone, or take your horny-ass home."

"Okay, okay... I'd like to make myself fat for a night, as long as your there," his voice is dreamy, desperate and warm. "You there already?"

"Nope," your lips pop the p, "but I'm nearby."

"I swear to God, if you're talking and driving, I'm gonna whoop your ass," Taika stood up, acting serious when he was just really worried about your safety in general.

"I'm not, I'm fine," you laugh again. "Not even in the car. Sitting on it though, trying to convince the world's sexiest man to go out with me again."

"And you said this wasn't a booty call," he retorts over the phone, making you playfully glare at the asphalt on the road. It's like he's in front of you.

"You coming or not?" you change the subject and you hear him laugh again, but softer.

"Yeah... I'll be there in a few minutes, gorgeous."

He always made goodbyes so easy. Maybe it was because you both knew you would be seeing each other again, no matter what circumstances you were thrown into. But the dial tone still had its effects.

You slip off the hood of your car, and take a seat in the driver's seat. The warm summer air makes your skin glow, and your brain went fuzzy only imagining it doing the same to Taika.

The drive feels so quiet. For a moment, you actually thought about calling him again, but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't pick up if he was driving.

As predicted, kids are zooming around on their bikes, showing off to their friends or trying to be cool, even though they all were obviously teary-eyed each time they scraped a knee. It was amusing to you and Taika, especially when some of the older boys would try to catch your attention and zip past you and Taika. It ended up being a heckle fest in the end, and some kid always went home with his butt hurt.

Keys and wallet in hand, you trek to the small, blue trailer tucked in the corner of the parking lot.

"Damn, you must have beat me here by just a few seconds," Taika calls, rustling his way through the small spaces between a couple of cars.

"Well, you've never been a speed demon type, so last place is your calling when it comes to racing," you guwaf and grin at him. He rolls his eyes and comes to walk right next to you.

"I pride myself on road safety," he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You glance at him from the side, just to silently check up on him. His hair was tousled and his eyes were resteless. It looks like he had it rough from the start. He had struggled to get dressed this morning, but picked the most eccentric clothes in his closet to make up from his lack of sleep.

"Dare you to try the dill pickle flavor this time," his cocky tone wakes you up.

"Like hell I will," you snort as you finally reach the trailer, where a teen boy happily greets the both of you.

"Oh come on, it'll be funny," he eggs you on, his bottom lip pouting.

"Keep trying to make me get dill pickle, and the next time we have a movie night together, I'm getting the pizza," you sniff and he rolls his eyes. He thinks it is an odd threat. "And I'm making it all Hawaiian pizza." That got his attention.

"Bull shit, you would never. Not on a perfectly good pizza!" He gasps.

"Oh, just watch me, pineapple boy," you snicker and point to his pineapple print shorts. You break conversation to order two piña colada flavored snow cones. Taika usually took for-fucking-ever when it came to picking a single flavor, so ever since the second time you've been out here with him, he assigned you to choose for him. He usually got what you got.

Now, you wait.

You plop yourself down on the curb, as you promised, and he joined you with a long, loud groan. You give him a bewildered stare, wondering if his age had really gotten him this much. He smiles at you through a wince.

"Sat on my keys," he wheezes and chuckles at his own stupidity under his breath.

Your eyes float down to where he pulls out his keys and you start giggling quietly.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done the same thing," Taika says, not handling the fact that you have new material to mess with him, and also trying to get some stories out of you.

"Well yeah, but I don't sit down as violently as you do," you prod his bicep, and he laughs.

"Such a lady. Must sit down gracefully and slowly," he says, mocking an English accent, but he was horrible at accents so of course it was bad. You smack his bicep this time, and he playfully flinches, like it hurt.

"I really need to get you into some accent classes or some shit, before you get your teeth knocked out," you shake your head with a smile.

"What? I think I'm great at accents. My American accent is the best one yet, don't you think?" He smirks at you, and proceeds to demonstrate. "All you have to do is put an 'er' at the end of everything, right? That's totally how they speak around here."

"I would be careful, Mr. Waititi. Could get in some trouble if you say that too loudly," you roll your eyes, and he sighs. Yeah. Things were going to shit in LA. It was clear to everyone, but what could two hollywood producers do to stop things like that? Keep making films, you guess.

"Two, large piña coladas!"

You look up, and so does he.

"I'll get them," you volunteer, but he places his hand on your shoulder before you could get up.

"Let me," he speaks softly, in a damn near whisper.

He stands up and strides right over to the trailer with so much confidence, you're envious. He comes back with two large styrofoam cups in hand, spoons, and a warm smile. His smile was always warm. It set fire in your belly.

He sits down a bit more carefully this time, even though his car keys were sitting in the grass, far away from his landing zone. He hands you your cup and a spoon.

"Do these have alcohol in them?" He nudges you with your elbow and you shake your head.

"As if they would let a seventeen-year-old serve alcoholic beverages," you throw in logic.

"I dunno... ever been to a ballpark before? Pretty sure some of those kids are way too young to be peddling there too, but that doesn't stop people from hiring them," he says while pointing his spoon at you.

"Fair point," you finish, then look at your snow cone. You decide to start eating before it melts.

Silence swarms the air, but comfortably. There's the occasional murmur of cicadas or humming cars drowning them out. Birds would land on the scorching asphalt to pick at whatever crumbs were left by other patrons, before fluttering away at the sight of a zooming bike getting too close for comfort.

Taika will point out a few of the kids doing tricks. He picks his favorites for the night, and he keeps himself busy by watching them. You, on the other hand, are occupied with him. You examine him from the tips of his dirty white chucks, to his frazzled hairdo.

"You look like shit," you mutter. He barely pays you mind and that comment was hardly acknowledged. It was like the air had gone a bit stiffer. He was hiding something from you.

"What's going on, Taik?" you worry. He never kept things from you, unless they were hard to bear.

He sets his cup down and holds his hands together. He looks so tired. So solemn.

"Today was total shit," he whispers and runs a hand through his hair.

"Well, yeah, I get that. I wouldn't have known if you had looked a little spiffier," you say, reaching out and gently tucking a curl on his forehead back in place with all the rest of its friends.

"Look, I--..." he says, turning to you, lips parted slightly, and a yearning sensation bubbling from the tips of his fingers as he rests a single hand on you.

There were tough times with the occupancy you both, willingly, chose. The hardest part about it was making friends, or making love, then finding out you have to leave it behind for a new location the next morning.

"I have to leave... for Sydney..." he says, reaching to gently take your cheek into the palm of his hand.

"When?" you manage, though you were clearly becoming upset.

"In a few weeks. Thor is waiting for me," he sighs, barely able to look at you while his thumb rubbed your ample cheek.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"I don't want to leave you," he says, tilting your head up just the slightest bit. "And I don't want to stop loving you."

Your eyes search his for a moment, wide and a bit confused.

"I thought you said we were just a fling with--"

He cuts you off, "A fling with benefits. I know..." he sighs again, "but every time I find myself waiting for you to call on a shitty day, each time you rest your head on my shoulder, all the times you smile at me and tease me, I find myself falling... more in love with you." He has to pause to breathe.

It's so quiet. Dangerously quiet.

"What happens if I love you too...?" you muster your courage, and look right into his expressive, brown eyes.

"I don't know," he says to you, thumb still rubbing circles.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" you breathe, and he nods.

Still as statues, you wait for words to touch the air. It's only when his foot makes a wrong move and knocks over his snow cone, does the tension break.

His bottom lip pouts for him again and you quietly pick his spoon up off the ground. You clean it on your shirt and hand it to him, all before taking your cup, and holding it out to share. He smiles down at you, taking his spoon from your hand and sticking it into the shaved ice.

Your head leans against his shoulder when the sun disappears behind the mall building.

"I love you too," you whisper.

"I know," he says back, sucking at the tip of his spoon.

"Think we can keep this up over the phone?" you ask, wondering about a brief virtual relationship, just until one of you catches a break.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" he says, lowering his spoon, wrapping his arm around you, and giving you his full attention.

[miss-dr-reid]

This is calm, and it's, Doctor #8

Warning: some domestic abuse, but nothing gory

On the drive home, my head was filled with memories of yesterday. How cute Spencer was when all he wanted to do was win a game of chess. Pretty much passing out on his lounge while waiting for dinner. Dancing the night away and waking up surrounded by fuzzy, cuddly, Spencer blanket. My heart beat hard, my head filled with joy.

Does Spencer feel this way about me? There's no reason he would. We barely know each other.

I arrived home and jumped straight in the shower. Washing my hair felt so good, I stood there, massaging for a while, relieving my head of the stress from the last week. I scrubbed my body and shaved everything baby smooth.

Stepping out of the shower, I reached for a towel from the rack, grabbed it and patted myself dry. I wrapped it around myself and looked in the mirror, memories of the first night I spent with a guy after leaving my ex.

~ I had arrived home and was finishing up having a shower, I reached for the towel rack, only looking when I couldn't feel one. When I looked, I was surprised to see my ex sitting on the toilet. A look of anger on his face...

"Have a good night?" he retorted.

"Doesn't matter to you, but it was great." I retaliated, hating that he made it in to my house without my knowing.

"As if. No one can make you feel the way that I can. I make you feel so good, baby, don't I?" He said, getting up off the toilet seat, coming toward me, one hand hiding behind his back.

"Fuck off. I don't want you anymore. I already told you." I said, backing up, ripping a folded towel off the counter behind me, "You need to leave, right now." Even though my voice was stern, he was still coming for me.

I didn't want to fight, so I ran, he tried to grab me on my way past, but I was still wet, so I slipped out of his grip. I ran straight for the front door, flinging it open and banging on my neighbours door. She didn't hesitate to open it, seeing me on the other side. I shoved my way in and she locked the door.

We moved away from the door, to her room and she grabbed me a spare shirt, I dropped the towel to put it on and was shocked to see red all over the towel where my hand had been pressed to my chest. I looked up at her who noticed it as well. She was on the phone to emergency serviced and asked for an ambulance to be added to the people on dispatch.

I didn't even realise he had got me as I pushed past him. the adrenaline was pumping through my body. I picked the towel back up and pressed it to myself once again. Waiting. He was banging on the door, demanding to be let in. He left soon after, knowing how this would end if he didn't.

The police arrived after what seemed like forever, followed by the EMT's. They were let into the apartment and the EMT suggested I go to hospital. I opted to get myself there after they deemed that the cut was not bad enough to need emergency surgery. I gave my statement to the police and thanked my neighbour for letting me in to her place so quick. ~

That was the last time I saw him. I moved out 2 weeks after that, changed jobs and finished studying. I looked at myself in the mirror, lowering the towel, lowering the towel, revealing the scar I still have on the outside of my breast, right where it meets my chest.

I covered up and went to my room, deciding what to wear.

'Something nice, but casual enough to walk places.' I tho9ught to myself. I landed on a semi-fitted sun dress and my favourite lime-green bikini. I wore some flats that I was easily able to slip on and off. I threw my hair into a messy bun and decided it was good enough.

I grabbed a few things, like sunscreen and a towel and popped them into a beach bag that I had stored away. I was ready to go. I checked my watch 11:15. Taking one last look around the place, I took my stuff and left. On the drive, I couldn't help but drive past Spencer's place, just for fun, and only 2 minutes later, I arrived at the cafe where I had met the boys for the first time.

The clock on my dash read 11:37, plenty of time to sit and wait before the boys would be here. I closed my eyes and rested my head back on the head rest. My mind wondering back to last night, wish that Spencer would think of me the same way I think of him. Maybe I'm just being desperate, but thinking about Spencer causes me to smile, every single time. I can't help it.

The loud knock on my window cause me to jolt from my thoughts. I looked out the window, seeing Morgan's face on the other side as his hand reached for the handle. Once the door was open, I climbed out and locked the car. Derek hugged me, which I returned, squeezing him slightly, he smelt good. We let go of the embrace, stepping back from each other, he looked me up and down.

"Looking good, mama." He says with a wink.

"Ha, you too." I winked back, "I thought you only had eyes for Garcia."

We stood there laughing for a bit, until I saw Spencer come around the corner, his face buried in a book, he was only ever looking away from it to see if there was an obstacle in his path.

"Ah, pretty boy." Morgan said, turning to look at him. Spencer's face still glued to the book, he didn't look up until he was inside. Derek decided it would be a good idea to sneak up on him and we entered the cafe behind him and stood there watching. He looked around to try and find Derek and I, to no avail. He pulled out his phone and started dialing. Derek and I giggled to ourselves, but Spencer wasn't paying attention as he was listening to the ringing on his phone. As Derek's phone rang, he didn't even reach for it, instead watching Spencer as he spun around to see us right behind him, all of us giggling.

We greeted each other, and Spencer walked toward me, his arms going outward as if coming in for a hug. I gave him a puzzled look, and accepted his embrace. The familiar smell of his cologne filling my nose, I took in a deep breath before releasing him.

Morgan bro-hugged him and we all laughed at how silly everything had just been.

"Let's grab lunch!" I exclaimed, I was starving.

We sat around a table, our chairs evenly spaced apart. The guys picked up menus, but I already knew what I wanted. After deciding, Derek and Spencer got up to order, insisting on covering my lunch. They came back and Derek decided small talk would be a good idea.

"So, Y/N," he smirked, "Is there anyone special in your life?" his eyebrows wiggling.

"Yes and No." I started, staring him in the eyes, not sure how to proceed, "I met this guy recently, I think he's great. I'm not sure if he's interested in me though. I'm also not sure if I should ask him how he feels. I mean, we only met not that long ago, so it might be too soon, you see..." I trailed off, rubbing my thumbs together, avoiding even a glance in Spencer's direction, so as though to not give anything away.

"Non sense!" Derek remarked, "If you feel a certain way about someone, you gotta tell them, babygirl. So, who is he?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter, you don't know him." I replied, trying to brush him off, but he wouldn't have it, and insisted I give him the identity of the 'mysterious guy' that I was keeping secret from him.

I remembered back to the car ride with Emily, all the little things she told me about Spencer.

"Walter..." I trailed off, smirking at myself a little, "He's cute and tall and quite smart." I could go on about all the little things I found adorable and attractive about Spence, but if I made the list too specific, Derek would piece it together too easily.

Spencer's ears perked at the name, and he looked at me with a puzzled looked, and I couldn't help the small smile that came across my face. Derek was still trying to figure out who 'Walter' was.

Derek noticed us looking at each other, looked between us, his eyes narrowing as he examined my face. His concentration broken by our food being put on the table in front of us. We all thanked the waitress and started eating. I had a chicken salad wrap, Spencer had a cheese ham and tomato toastie, while Derek had a burger. We all ate, barely saying a word, enjoying our meals.

I was the first to finish, Spencer was done soon after. We started talking about work things. We started picking on Derek who was having trouble defending himself as he tried to finish his food quickly.

"At least I don't hide behind books to avoid my feelings." Derek spat back at Spence, who just shrugged his shoulders. "And how about you, miss Perfect? Sucking up to Hotch and showing off in front of everyone on your first day, making us all look bad! You can't fool anyone with your goody-two-shoes act!" he finished by taking a sip of his drink.

I clasped a hand to my chest in fake offence, "Oh no! ME make the fantastic Mr. Morgan look bad?! how could I? His beautiful physique and wonderful words which help him pull all the ladies, tarnished! what ever will he do?" I stopped when I noticed Spencer silently giggling to himself at the sight before him. I couldn't let him get out of this. "Oh no no, Doctor. You're not getting out of this that easily. Your big brilliant brain is beautiful, but you need to work on understanding innuendos. The amount of things that have been said to and around you, that go straight over your head, we need to get you cultured."

He was confused. He didn't understand why he needed to understand jokes, why it mattered so much, and really, it doesn't. He's perfect in my eyes.

We sat there talking for a bit more until Derek decided it was time to go. We got up, left a tip on the table and headed out. We walked to y car and leaned on it, Spencer choosing to stand.

"What now?" I asked.

"The beach." Derek answered, "Don't worry pretty by, we'll find somewhere with shade so you can sit and read." Spencer's expression calmed at the sound of not being forced to swim.

We decided to go in one car. My car was elected because it was closest. I climbed in to the drivers seat, Derek in the passenger and Spence, in the back.

On the car ride, I changed through radio stations, trying to find music. Derek was confused by it, but Spencer knew what was happening. With the back coming along the corner, we all kept our eyes peeled for a parking spot.

I saw a spot, near a decent sized tree, which had a bench in the shade underneath it. Perfect. I pulled into the spot and we all climbed out. Derek and I, grabbing our beach bags and Spencer with his satchel that he has with him literally everywhere he goes.

The three of us walked single-file, me leading, to the bench. Spencer quite happily sat and pulled out his book while Derek and I set down our bags. I took a moment to take in the scene. Closing my eyes, I listened to the water, the crashing of the waves, so welcoming and calming. The smell of the ocean was so refreshing, the scent filling my lungs with every breath.

Opening my eyes, I saw Morgan had started removing layers until he was just in his swim trunks. I followed his lead, undressing down to my bikini. My skin looked so pasty compared to his caramel skin.

I grabbed the sunscreen from my bag, and started on my arms, chest, legs but of course, I can't each my call back properly. I looked over at Derek, with almost output dog eyes and he held out his hand. I have him the tube and turned around.

"You know, Walter should be going this guy you.." his suggestive tone caused heat to rush to my face as my eyes lifted to look at Spencer, who's eyes were glued to the pages of his book.

As he finished, he threw the tube down to my bag and ye inlled,

"Last one in is a rotten egg!"

Without hesitation we both ran for the water, laughing the whole way. With sand flicking up behind us as we ran, we reached the water in no time. We leapt over the small wave as we reached the water, the splash from the land was cool and refreshing. After a few more leaps, I dove in under a wave, losing sight of Derek.

The Cool water consumed my body. The waves in my hair, the current caressing and flowing over me. As I resurfaced, I couldn't see Derek. I assumed he went under too, and started looking in to the water, trading to see his figure.

With my head still looking to the water, a splash came from my side, Derek sat there unleashing a wave of splashes as I tried to deflect and return. Laughter erupting from both of us as we unleashed a wrath of splashes on each other. He finally stopped with a breathy laugh and so did I. He started to swim toward me and I couldn't help but splash him one last time, playback for what he'd started.

"Alright," he laughed, "You win." He made it over next to me. As our breathing solved, we both looked at Spencer, who's attention seemed to never leave his book.

"How can we get pretty boy in the water?" He suggested. We decided a plan and set it in to play, and I was the bait. I watched Derek swim far enough away and began acting. It needed to be convincing or Spence Rodney buy it.

I started waving my hand in the air and started yelling out for help. Using his name a couple of times in the process helped a lot. His head finally snapped up to see me, my head bobbing under the water a few times, and to see Derek no where near close enough to help. He jumped up, ripped off his shirt and used his feet to remove his shoes.

He ran for the water and jumped in. He made it close enough to me that he was commited to swimming and I started laughing. Derek, who had been watching, had made his way over too and joined in with my giggles. It wasn't long until Spencer had his arms wrapped around me, trying to get my head above water. I looked into his eyes and batted my eyelashes, a small smile coming over my lips.

"Sorry." I said quietly as Derek patted him on the back, telling him of our plan.

"if you guys wanted me to swim so bad, you should have just asked." Spencer said, releasing me and staring me down with betrayal in his eyes.

"C'mon Reid," Morgan started, "you wouldn't have come in if I had simply asked. And besides, didn't it feel good holding a beautiful woman in your arms?" His eyebrows wiggling as Spencer studied me, both of our faces going red at the suggestion.

Derek swam off with a 'catch me if you can' look on his face.

"Sorry for doing that to you." I apologised to Spencer.

"No, he's right. I wouldn't have come in if he had asked. I'm not much for swimming, not in open experts anyway. I much prefer somewhere I can see the bottom. Even though the percentage of shark attacks is pretty low, the chances of getting stuck in a rip are quite high. I don't think I'd put up much of a fight against one..." His voice trailed off as he watched Derek get further away.

"I'll save you if that ever happens." I said, winking at him. He laughed and started after Derek, I followed. The swim turned into more of a race rather than us trying to catch Derek.

We stayed at the beach for a few hours. I could feel my shoulders and nose burning. We had been having so much fun, I had forgotten to reapply sunscreen.

"Maybe we should get going," I suggested, "at least in to the shade?" I noticed Spencer's face was also red and I felt bad because he didn't even apply sunscreen. The three of us retreated to the shade.

I picked up my towel and patted myself dry. I slipped on my dress and we packed up our stuff ready to go. We stopped at the public showers to wash our feet before getting to the car.

"Who's still keen for icecream?" Derek asked as we reached the car. My sunburn wasn't 'burning' as of yet and I was still keen on icecream.

"I'm keen, but we shouldn't be too long. The sooner I get some cream into this bad boy, the better." I replied, pointing to my nose and shoulders, while putting my seat belt on. Derek looked over his shoulder to Spencer who simply said,

"Sure." With a shrug of his shoulders, pulling his book out of his bag.

The icecream shop wasn't too far away, so o didn't burger with the radio. Instead, Derek and I joked around with each other during the drive.

This one is longer to make up for the day's I've been missing. It's been sitting in my drafts for days because I keep getting distracted. I'm so sorry, please enjoy. :)

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 6 "Seven Minutes in Hell" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

Everyone would immediately assume the killer is me.

Are you one of those idiot savants who's heavy on the idiot, light on the savant?

I am simply a victim of my times.

Are you aware your pants are on backwards?

Then whose fault is it?

I am never talking about anything ever again!

Yeah, super sorry about what happened down there.

Why are you laughing?

What about that fit you threw down there?

You're not mad at me?

Oh, I meant everything I said about you.

I still think you're useless. I'm just not sad about it.

You never, ever want to be the boss in a time of extreme crisis.

As soon as you become the boss, you get a target on your back, from the feds, the other families, ambitious underlings.

Sure, seems like you have all the power, but you also take on the most risk.

Oh, don't judge me for trying to stay alive.

Do not give an inch.

What's your game here?

I trust you about as far as I can throw you.

I know we don't know who the killer is, but we know it traces back to this house.

There are two things that always happen at a slumber party; someone experiments with lesbianism and secrets are revealed.

We can create situations and scenarios to really prime the pump.

We'll lock everybody up overnight, and we're bound to find out something.

A slumber party sounds fun.

Let's play spin the bottle.

Someone always goes lesbian.

We're playing spin the damn bottle.

Why spin the bottle?

That is not a nasty rumor. That is a true rumor.

So I propose a panty raid.

You taste like wax.

I guess we have to kiss.

You're a great kisser.

Was I interrupting you?

I was just practicing looking disinterested.

I'm pretty sure I was born without that part of the brain that actually feels stuff.

We have so much in common.

I'm starting to think we have something very important and specific in common.

My sex life up until this point is what you'd call unusual.

I think the only way to be sure of your feelings is if you let me gently rub your uterus right now.

When I love someone, it drives them insane.

Believe me when I say that if it was possible for me to feel anything I would totally be crying right now.

That doesn't seem healthy.

All the doors are locked solid. Windows, too. Upstairs and down.

I decided to have the whole house turned into a panic room.

But wait, doesn't that mean that there's some sort of switch somewhere to deactivate it?

I hate being trapped in small places.

There's only one reason why the killer would do something like this-- to pick us off one by one.

Guess it's just a matter of time before one of us or all of us ends up dead.

You have to help us.

Look, I'm prepared to say I'm sorry I did that.

What I'm not prepared to do is say the sex was bad.

Yeah. I'm not gonna apologize for that one.

I'm about to get murdered, so can you please just hang up and get over here?

How on earth are we supposed to get in if all the doors and windows are locked?

Dude, we climb up the ladder, break the windows upstairs, save all the girls, climb back down, then it's vagina city for all of us.

Why would you bomb-proof upstairs windows? For what, like, a flying bomb?

Don't be an idiot.

It's hero time.

Save me and I'm yours forever.

I'm not really sure I'm ready for that level of commitment.

Break the glass!

Stand back, fair maiden.

Give him the dignity of watching him die.

Someone in this house definitely knows who the killer is.

It's truth or dare time.

Whatever it takes to stop the douche that's trying to kill everybody.

I mean, do you ever just stop and ask yourself if we can actually pull this off?

Maybe we all just need to get out of here.

The best way to avoid a shark attack is to not go in the water.

We all have a crisis of faith sometimes.

Maybe you're hiding something.

I'd pick truth and then just lie.

If you want to lie, you can just pick dare.

That's the whole point of truth or dare. You can't lie.

Does your vagina have teeth?

I'm not lying.

My vagina doesn't have teeth.

Does your vagina still have teeth?

So it used to have teeth, but you got them removed?

So your vagina still has teeth.

Sounds like you're trapped in a web of lies.

You're forfeiting your turn, bitch.

Okay, I guess it's my turn, then.

You promised you wouldn't tell.

Sorry. I had to tell the truth.

Of course you're the killer.

I propose we take a little break, You know, take a whiz, get a refill.

You know what? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever trusted you.

I wanted to talk about the other thing you said, about how you thought you had feelings for me.

The only feelings I have for you now are rage and pissed offedness.

Now go sit in that bathtub and think about what you've done. And try not to rub one out, okay?

Come on! I said I was sorry!

If anybody's down here, please don't jump out at me.

Is that blood?

Wait. If you're gonna kill me, at least show me who you are first.

I knew it. I knew it was you.

Please. You don't have to do this. I could help you.

There's never any food in there. Just laxatives.

I got the impression that you and I are on the verge of being the next "it" couple.

See, this is the problem with texting, you know? You can't hear the context.

Even though I decided to not wear a bra, you haven't been staring at my shirt raisins once.

Okay, look, I was waiting to talk to you about this 'cause secretly I was hoping you'd be killed and I wouldn't have to hurt your feelings.

I just don't think it would work out with us.

You're nuts, and not like a typical crazy-eyes co-ed, but wake-up-with-my penis-in-a-jar lunatic.

I love space mountain. Best ride at Disneyland. But I love my penis more.

Number one-- I never take second place. And number two-- I don't stop till I get what I want.

Was that salad spinner hitting on you?

I am super turned on from her, and I need some sweet release.

Is there any, like, Crisco or cooking oil here? Just, like, dry handies bum me out.

I propose we treat ourselves to a little heaven. Seven minutes in heaven.

Whatever your plan was, it isn't working.

Would you like to pat the little man in the canoe?

I want to take our relationship to the next level.

I want us to be together, but I want it to mean something.

I love boning girls all over this great land. But really, at the end of the day, I just kind of want to bone one girl. Like, that one special girl.

I just didn't think that girl was you. Because, obviously, there's so much wrong with you.

Will you get back together with me?

I would consider taking you back under one condition.

You have to pinky-pledge that you will be monogamous to me.

You will not have sex with anyone else. Do you understand me?

Dude, she looks like prepackaged meat from the supermarket.

Oh, god, has someone checked on the kids?

Pretty convenient that you're the one who found the body.

You're the darkest bitch of them all.

Those are some serious accusations, and they make no sense.

I would be opening myself up to a lot of trouble if I were to turn you in to the authorities.

It doesn't do any of us any good to start accusing each other with no evidence.

I suggest that we just have someone stand guard and watch me for the rest of the night, or until someone else dies, therefore proving that I am not the killer.

This feels so good.

I tried to scream, but nothing came out!

Interesting. That's all I'm gonna say. Interesting.

There is a trapdoor with, like, a tunnel system.

But wait, there are secret tunnels in this house perfect for a killer to use, and you neglected to tell us?

That's a little suspicious.

We are losing sight of the big picture here.

I'm not going down there. I do not dig on cobwebs, and I'm guessing there are loads of cobwebs down there.

If you get murdered in those tunnels, I promise I will never bang anyone harder than I banged you.

You're so rich and hot.

These are the nicest secret tunnels I've ever seen.

Wow. What amazing legacies they all have. What do you think ours will be?

If we can get through this year without everyone getting killed, I think we'll go down as the greatest of them all.

You came back for me.

Purely selfish.

You are probably the worst cop ever.

Wait, where are we going?

I won't go!

In three seconds, I'm gonna pick you up and carry you out of here.

I just kind of came over here because I farted over there and it smelled bad.

Wait, you're a lesbian?

Basically, I'm in love with love.

The next time I feel love for someone, I'm going to tell them. Right away. Just in case they're murdered before I can.

I just feel like I'm never gonna find a guy who likes me.

I'm a freak.

Nobody actually likes me.

You are totally gonna find another guy.

They're custom-made pink nunchaku.

Thank you for making that announcement that no one cared about.

No slumber party is finished without a kickass dance party.

This is so wonderfully random.

What a great way to pretend all these people we know weren't brutally murdered.

[lihikainanea]

No hate because I don't mean to offend it's just I've always been told otherwise and I'd like your input. Genuinely, how do you fight against a grown man that's twice your size when you're so small??? Like could you throw Bill around for example? I just don't understand how that works. I've always been told that no matter how strong a woman is, if a man twice her size takes her on she'll lose. And that martial arts won't win against a guy who street fights and you need to defend yourself.

No offence taken, bubs. I get this question a lot, and I’m always happy to explain these things to people who ask out of genuine curiosity. For people who ask out of arrogance (ie: usually dudes), I tend to prefer a more demonstrative approach.

There are a few things that make this whole “martial arts is useless against people bigger and stronger than you” thing a total misconception, so let’s outline some of them.

1) Martial arts is never about strength or force. Well, not your own anyway. The concept of martial arts was created with one very, very obvious thing in mind: That you will usually get attacked by someone bigger and stronger than you. I can’t speak for all martial arts, but as a kyokushinkai, I can tell you how we train and what we believe. Martial arts is not about your strength, or your force--but rather, it is about using your opponent’s strength and force against them. Have you ever thrown a punch at the air? I’m talking a real punch, one with your whole body weight--ever throw a haymaker like that at absolutely nothing? Let me tell you what happens: you go flying. More specifically, you pitch forward at the waist, you lean your upper body forward, you step into it as you try to regain your balance--and then your body’s natural inclination to counter that weight kicks in, and you lean back to try and regain your centre.

Now, imagine that as you throw that punch, the person in front of you just hooks a hand behind your shoulder and guides you even more into the direction you were already catapulting yourself in. Then imagine as your body is pitching forward from your own force, all of that forward momentum driving into one sole place--imagine the person in front of you just raises a knee, sinks it into your gut. All of this--every modicum of it--is your own force. Not theirs.

Additionally, there are also spots on the body where you can cause maximum damage with minimum efforts--these are called pressure points, most people don’t have more than a basic understanding of them, and they are a bitch. There are a lot of them in a lot of easy to reach places, and none of them require much more than a tap. Take your fingers--your index and your middle finger--and put them on the spot under your earlobe, right where your jaw connects to your skull. Push down there--that’s pretty sensitive, right? Now look at your hand, where your thumb connects to your wrist. Tuck your thumb into your palm.

If you tap someone on either side where their jaw connects, with that bony part of your hand--and you have a solid 5cm of space here, so you can miss and still be fine--you will knock them out. Every single time.

How this is applicable to the argument: People tend to think of fighting as a Rock’Em Sock’Em game. You stand in front and you punch each other. If that’s how fighting worked, then punch for punch--yeah, a dude who is 6′4 and 240lbs is stronger than me. But martial artists are craftier than that--and if I know that I won’t win the brute force game, then I don’t play the brute force game. After 12 years of training, I have 238975854569 other games that he doesn’t.

So yes, I could throw Bill around. But the whole point is--I would never have to. Strength would be his fight, because he’s a big dude. If I know my strength won’t win, then I won’t fight that way.

2) Speed and accuracy

Again, I can only speak as a kyokushinkai. But something that we emphasized was that there was a need, when you train, to constantly be uncomfortable. Are we throwing punches? Okay great, here put a weighted belt on only one side of your body and also these rubber bands on your wrist are connected to a guy behind you who will pull your hand back every time you try to throw it forward. Are we practicing defending against surprise attacks, or accuracy? Great, here kick this tiny ping pong ball using only this part of your foot, and wear a blindfold while you’re at it.

12 years of this.

I will reiterate that standing in front of a dude, square on, throwing timed punches--I will lose. He will be stronger than me. But thankfully, that’s...not ever how a fight works.

What allows me to win against a guy of that size is my speed, and my accuracy.  Let me tell you a little something about how people punch: people don’t know how to punch. Their features pinch in their face, and their neck tightens. An arm is drawn back--way back--and usually, the leading foot is raised just a tad, on the heel, so it’s just the ball of the foot on the ground. The fist comes through the air in a circular arc, reaching to connect to the side of your face as the person steps forward. The punch’s natural progression is from one of your shoulders to the other--if you can imagine that pathway. The entire thing is circular, it is energy-consuming, but more than that--it’s predictable.

I have spent 12 years getting punched by men stronger than me, who were trained to punch. Men who spent 20 years training to punch. I don’t see those coming, for a few reasons: they’re too fast, but mostly, we have been trained to not “give away” our strikes. Our faces don’t twitch anymore. We give no indication that a punch is coming, until we’ve actually punched you. There’s no wind up. There’s no arc. There’s no shift in weight--it is a direct line, and it is immediate. And devastating. We punch to break cinder blocks. Your face is not as strong as a cinderblock.

Fighting these dudes who give nothing away, I can say that in a street fight against someone--things are moving in slow motion for me. And I can confirm this, because I’ve been jumped twice in my life. Everything the opponent did, it looked like he was moving through molasses. I recognized the sudden tensing in his facial features (as competitors, do you know where we look when we fight? At the hollow of the neck on our opponent. Because of the involuntary way it clenches when they’re about to throw a strike.) I saw the arm wind back--way the fuck back. It gave me a half a second--but that’s a half a second head start, and that’s all the time I need. I can deflect. I can stop. I can strike back.

How this is applicable to the argument: Strength and force don’t even come to the party when an opponent is faster than you, because you can’t exude force against something that you can’t grab or strike. You also can’t exude force against something that strikes you right as you’re attempting to strike it.

And because we train so much on accuracy, it means that I can hit the spot that I mean to hit, with the force I mean to hit it with, under most circumstances. Including on a moving, erratic, unpredictable target. And if I miss, then I have the reflexes fast enough to strike something that was just made available to me in my miss. Example: I go to strike a groin, and he covers? Most men have an incredibly fast reflex to cover their groin. That’s fine, because it means that his hands just went down to block my strike. And when his hands go down, you know what he’s not protecting?

His head. Off with it.

(it’s also important to note that the first thing we are ever taught to protect, is our head. This is so deeply engrained in us. And the number one thing that people always punch for, is the head. When you spend 12 years protecting it against 5th degree black belts, believe me some drunk dude in a bar is not even going to get close to it without dying first.)

3) Tolerance for pain

I mentioned before that if you have never gotten punched before, it is an incredibly jarring experience. You panic. You freeze. Your knees give out. You maybe scream, you probably start to cry, you get really freaked out. There’s so many things that play on the brain in those situations--that you’re in danger, that you’re under attack, that you don’t know what to do, that the punch caused some serious damage, that you’re in pain, that somebody tried to hurt you. All of these things are terrifying, and they’re a very natural panic response to the situation.

Over the course of 12 years, I have gotten punched and kicked at full force--my face, my stomach, my chest, my head--millions of times. Millions. It doesn’t incite panic anymore, but it sure does incite rage.

Kyokushinkai go through various exercises to numb ourselves to pain. We punch telephone books covered in burlap, to kill the nerve endings in our knuckles. When we’re past that, we move onto concrete. We whack our shins with baseball bats to break down the microfibres in the bone, so they’ll not only grow back stronger--but they’ll grow back numb. We stand there, and we let the entire class punch us. Kick us. We don’t block--we absorb it. In kyokushin tournaments, if you show pain, you automatically lose. That means that if I take a kick to the head and I grimace, if I grunt or suck in a breath or otherwise show any emotion--I forfeit the fight. Immediately.

All of this takes the shock value out of experiencing pain, and more importantly, it re-programs your brain to replace it with something else. We have been, essentially, reprogrammed. That’s the only word I can think of for this. The normal brain is programmed that when you get punched, you feel pain. The kyokunshinkai brain is programmed that when you get punched, you feel fucking blind rage.

How this is applicable to the argument: He might be stronger, and he might land the hit. But I have been punched much harder by men who have been trained to use their bodies as weapons. I have submitted my body to that for 12 years. So he may land the hit. But it won’t hurt me, because for 12 years, I have been through worse. And if he lands the hit, refer to item 2 on how I can still win. Most people throw the punch thinking it will end the fight. It’s rather shocking when you throw the punch and a harder one lands on you 2 seconds later.

4) We understand body mechanics.

This is kind of all of the points rolled into one. Martial artists have an innate understanding of pressure points, how to manipulate them, but more than that--we understand how the body moves. We understand actions, and counter-actions. We understand involuntary muscle twitches. We understand the ebb and flow, the sway, the centre lines. Gravity.

Up top I mentioned that in competition, we stare at the other person’s throat when we fight. This is not only because it’s one of the places where your peripheral vision is most effective (you can see all movement in their arms and legs), but because the body basically gives involuntary muscle twitches there before any other movement is made. If something there twitches, then something is about to come flying at your head.

But we also understand that for anybody who hasn’t been trained, a contortion of the facial features precedes strike. It’s a running joke amongst martial artists, this idea that “a punch comes from your face.” It does. there is always a constriction of the facial features before a strike.

We understand the body mechanics of a poorly thrown punch. We understand that to get more force, people will swing back, shift their weight to their back leg before pitching forward, planting their front leg, swinging their arm way behind them as their gravity shifts to the front and they launch it. A martial artist would look at this situation, and manipulate it.

So when the dude shifts his weight onto his back leg and draws his arm back--you break his back leg. Chop it down like a fucking tree, which is easy to do when his weight is on it. Or you let him throw the punch, and you move--just a slight toss to the side, guide his arm where it was going anyway if you want to, and with a little downward momentum this guy is eating pavement. And again, it’s his own momentum. You’re just nudging him to where he was already going.

As martial artists we understand centrelines and counterbalance. We understand that sometimes you need to swing things up to have enough momentum to bring them down (a double collar grab), we understand that you need to oppose the force to gain enough momentum to go with the force (a double wrist grab on you that turns into a forearm lock on them).

How this is applicable to the argument: if I could hone in on something here, and it’s only because it’s something that took me a long time to learn: we understand how to force someone to fight our fight. For years and years I would adapt to someone else’s fight. If he was a garbage truck on the mats, standing there and pounding on me, I would morph into a garbage truck too and just stand there, take it, and punch back--instead of working my angles, getting off his centre, not giving him the access to get into a punching rhythm. And against a big tall dude, a big strong dude--no, I can’t reach his head.

But I can make his head come to me.

You learn that a groin kick will lower an opponent’s hands, and it will buckle their knees in protection. Cause them to crouch. You learn that a well positioned punch low on the abdomen--say, the bladder--will fold a person in half, which brings their head much closer to you. You learn to get what you want. You want the back leg? You put yours forward. Offer it up. You hand it to them on a silver platter and let them believe they have it. You want the ribs? You throw up high, so their hands come up. You want the groin? You give them your hands. Because essentially--they don’t have your hands. You have theirs, and then bullseye.

Which brings me to my fifth and final point....

5) Adaptability.

As martial artists, we have options. We have a lot of options. We like options. We don’t believe in one fight. We don’t believe you’re ever really stuck.  But we do believe in something else, that is very dear to us. A philosophy, of sorts, and it goes like this:

Every single part of me is a weapon and every single part of you is a target.

We know how to use what’s left, we know how to use what’s available. If you have one of my hands, I have 3 other weapons I can strike you with. If I kick for your groin and I miss or you block, I now know that your head is unprotected and you’re hunched over. It means I can knock you out, it means I can reach and literally rip your ears off (sorry kids, self-defence is nasty). If I throw a punch for your solar plexus and you move, I can hit you from any angle within a 5 foot radius because that’s how I’ve been trained. If you break my leg, then I’ll remember that time that I broke my leg in competition and I still finished the fight, because I know that my adrenaline is so far off the charts that I still have a good 20 minutes before I’ll feel the pain.

If I kick and you block, I know how to throw another 3 kicks before my foot lands--all at different areas of the body. If I punch and you block, I know how to punch another 6 times and kick another 3 and one of them is bound to land, and hurt you.

How this is applicable to the argument: Everybody’s got a plan ‘til they get punched in the face. Most people start a brawl with some semblance of a plan in mind--even if that plan is just “I’m gonna throw this punch that this fucker won’t ever see coming and knock him the fuck out.”

Martial artists don’t have a plan. Martial artists wait until you reveal your plan, and then we just make sure we don’t let you carry through with it. I hope this helps shed some light, bubs <3

[guigz1-coldwar]

'A reason to hold on': New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"A reason to hold on"

"Let's face it, Grigoriev, you're just a pathetic little lost girl, running to get her memories back but I'm going to stop you in your run!"

Chapter Summary: Yirina is trying to forget the dream that she lived earlier this day before taking a night of sleep and having a discussion about things with a friend...

Link of the Picrew used !

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3200

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Park did have a good idea to left Century House than usual today, not only because she was looking exhausted on the outside but for me, she was either doing it to avoid the CIA's eyes during our way back to the apartment...something that was a bit not believable for me as our paranoid attitudes were still on or because she maybe saw that I wasn't very well after she woke me up in the office but either way, she did a good choice. Me, I was still shocked by the news we learned today from Liliya...

I learned that Perseus himself had two real children who are Bellamy Petrov & Liliya Petrov that he totally forgot about them, focusing on raising me & Freya instead. That....it was shaking me down on the inside: why did he abandon them? Why only raising me & Freya instead of having them too? Why did he do this? I couldn't know the answer and my head...I'm pretty sure that it doesn't have the answer to those questions, the only person doing that is Perseus...him...and he's not around. He abandoned them, and now, he greeted them back like that, Bellamy was the only one staying in the Collective while Liliya joins the CIA.

Those thoughts stayed in my head for the remainder of the day, walking back to the apartment in the group while still watching our backs, having dinner in the dining room, playing a little game of 'Bullshit' but they were still here, now adding to that, that weird dream that could have made me cry again in front of the others, seeing that scene again from time to time and that's what caused me to get earlier in my bedroom at 10 PM while the others were continuing to play the game even if Park was showing signs of concerns.

Instead of getting undressed & laid down on my side of the bed, I decided to stay sit in front of the bed, still in my clothes, blank stare looking at the wooden door like that, having no particular expression on my face as I was trying to remove that weird dream out of my head. My hands were slightly sliding on the top of my lap to concentrate...that dream needed to go...I can't see Freya kill Park...I can't see it...

"No, Beans, you're not coming," My sort of struggle was interrupted as I heard Park's muffled voice behind the door before the handle starts to move, the door opened softly. "You've already got a bed for yourself," She said, her voice sounding normal as she stepped into the room, looking outside on the ground. "Good night, Beans," She then closes the door in front of her as the lights outside went off.

"Seems that someone wanted to come in," I scoffed as Park turned around to look at me

"Yeah, don't have enough place for someone else on our bed, right?" She admitted, winking at me with her left eyebrow before a look of questions was seen on her face. "I thought that you will be already under the blanket," She narrowed her eyes, her hands that were almost going to take her shirt off

"I couldn't, had to...get something off," I breathed as my eyes closed for one second...enough to see the exact moment when that gunshot in the dream went off, watching Park's face..."That dream again as you maybe thought," I told her.

"The...the same one you talked about a little earlier that day?" She presumed, her hands moving away from her shirt as she kneels in front of me, looking worried.

"Yes..." I snorted, passing my left hand below my nose after that. "I'm having flashes of you getting shot in the chest by Freya," I explained, my eyes looking down as I fear to see her face...and the expression she used in that dream that was terrifying me.

"Why you didn't tell me before?" She asked, worried in her voice as her right-hand starts to move near my face as I could see.

"I didn't want you to be stressed & afraid about me," I replied, my lips barely moving to say those words.

"Yiri, you know that you can say everything," She confided, feeling the cold side of her hand slowly caressing my left cheek, removing along the way the hair that was on the cheek.

"I know but I'm not sure if I can really say anything about that...nightmare," I chuckled, her thumb passing below my left eye as a little tear came out of it. "You don't want to know," I muttered.

"Please, tell me...tell me..." She demanded in a pleading voice as her other hand moved on my face on the other cheek.

"You're sure, you...are sure?" I questioned her and she nodded without any hesitations on her face, her eyes looking sad...I needed to tell her.

"Just tell me, it'll be fine," She affirmed in a low voice, awaiting for me to speak about that dream.

"Okay, I...I was in a sort of bedroom, dressed up in a black suit. " I started, trying to keep a straight face for Park to look at her. "Someone called me out and as soon as I left...I found myself...in a place that was making a wedding on a cliffside," I continued.

"A...a wedding?" Park whispered, keeping her hand on me as I nodded to her.

"Yes and..." I took a deep breath, wondering what she could say after the next parts. "You were there...dressed in a white wedding dress," I revealed, Park's eyes going all wide, the palms of her hands staying on my face. "Standing below an altar, asking me to come next to you and I did, we were alone at that moment and after a few seconds....it happened," I continued, looking away from her as I saw that expression again for real.

"A wedding dress?" Park was sounding more confused & astonished at what I said, maybe believing that I was joking but that first part took over with the seriousness of my voice.

"I tried to help you to stop the bleeding but Freya was shouting at me, saying that I was hers, that you never loved me and..." I stopped myself to take a little breath, not looking so well right now. "And then, it was done..the last thing I saw was you, your body all limp...dead..." I added before closing my eyes, making a silent cry.

"I'm sorry, Yirina, I'm sorry," Park apologized as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, my head against her own left shoulder, silently crying...It wasn't her fault at all, it never was..."If only...if only..." She tried to say before she stops herself in her words, not saying anything else.

"You did what you have to do, it was not your fault," I told her, my voice muffled by her shoulder as her hands around me stayed. "I love you, that's the main thing," I confirmed, her right hand moving behind my head who got on her shoulder.

It wasn't her fault...it never was...

We stayed in that position for about 5 minutes, Park still hugging me on the end of the bed before she got up back at her feet, feeling myself a little better with that dream slowly going away to get undressed, allowing me to do the same before I installed myself right under the blanket at my side of the bed, watching Park undressing slowly but surely not like I did before she moved to get on the bed with me.

"You're okay, Yiri?" Park asked as she got the blanket on her, me looking away in another direction from her.

"Yeah, I just...try to sleep now," I responded in a low voice, my eyes struggling to not get close for the moment.

"Yirina?"

"Yes?" I demanded.

"Uhm...in that dream...how I was in that...wedding dress?" She asked me in a curious & positive voice, feeling that need to think positively on a small part of that dream. "You said that it was white, how I was in it?" She added.

"You were...so damn pretty, looking so well on you," I replied with a big smile on my face, just to think about it before I could feel her hands on my chest for a cuddle as she got closer to me, leaving no longer space between us.

"Thanks," She said, landing a kiss right behind my neck, and then, she stayed near me, her hands wrapped around my chest.

I continued to smile about it, my hands going above hers as I was now seeing in front of my eyes, only Park dressed in that wedding dress...looking so damn pretty, so...lovely. This was the best thing I saw in days and it was giving me a little smile to think about it...how I can propose to her? And when I would be able to do this? It's with those questions that I closed my eyes to get some needed sleep...

"What does Portnova wants with me?" I said to myself as I was sitting on the hood of a blue car, smoking a cigarette. The view in front of me was a big river and from afar, I could perceive Moscow, meaning that I was sure one or two kilometers from the city by looking at it. The night was surely making the landscape looking much better but to say, I was nonetheless freezing even with a leather jacket around me.

The whole place around me was nearly silent: no wind knocking against the trees, only hearing the water hitting the side of the river, and the radio inside the car that was still turned on along with the car front lights enlighten up slightly a part of the river. I wanted to have some silence so I moved away from the hood to open the front door of the car and shut off the radio, making a relieving breath when I do it.

It was after I closed the front door that another light arrives on the scene, hearing a car driving on the dirt path leading here as I saw, without been blinded by the light of the incoming car, Portnova alone, driving it before she parked it alongside my car, shutting down everything including the lights of it.

"Sorry for my late," She started first the conversation, getting out of the car as she was wearing a black leather jacket with a red scarf and blue jeans.

"That's okay, I arrived here only a few minutes ago," I exclaimed, throwing at my feet the cigarette to crush it down as she closed the door of her car. "You know, we can talk at your place or in mine, no need to go to an isolated place," I complained about that.

"I know but I couldn't go to your place without having Zasha around," She explained in a sort of joking voice. "I needed to talk with you alone and not with Zasha," She clarified, walking to get in front of me, looking a bit unsure on her moves.

"What about?" I asked, sitting again as I was minutes ago on the blue car's hood.

"Well...Uhm...how do you feel?" She demanded, looking down at her black boots, maybe thinking that she was uncomfortable to ask that from me.

"Right now, I'm good," I replied in a good voice, suddenly feeling the whole lie I did say as she looks at me with a raised eyebrow, holding her left arm with her right hand. "No...not so fucking great," I confessed, my hands on the car hood behind me. "With the situation getting out of hands and our wishes to defect, nothing can be good,"  I clarified, my right hand moving to scratch the back of my head.

"And what about Freya?" She questioned me, taking a step towards me.

"Her? She started to cheat on me with someone else that I don't know, she doesn't know that I know but I can't afford to tell her,"  I answered, tapping my two index fingers on the car, a little stressed about myself. "If I had to defect without her, so be it," I whispered, Portnova arriving near me.

"You know, Zasha told me about some...things from before," She said, getting my attention on her by turning my head around to look at her. "Is that true, you two...were in a little relationship before...years ago?"

"Yeah...they should have told you that after they got their panic attack days ago...when Dedov left," I presumed, looking away from her towards the river and the city on the horizon. "We swore to not talk about it but things changed, right?" I told her, shaking my head to think about the situation.

"I know, that was indiscreet from me to..."

"Ask me about it? That's okay," I cut her gently in her words, having guessed what she will say to me before. "That couldn't stay hidden deep forever," I snorted as Portnova decided to get sit next to me on the hood.

"I'm sorry in case if it brought you back memories that..." She tried to say before she stops herself, thinking that I was going to stop her by myself, now both looking at the horizon, without saying any words. "The two Yirina's talking about things...that's funny," Portnova spoke up after at least 30 seconds of silence between us.

"What were the odds that two people called Yirina will be friends and working together in the KGB in the same section?" I scoffed, breaking out a laugh that was looking so weird with that whole situation around us. "Yeah...that's funny," I admitted with a laugh, crossing my arms.

"My parents never wanted me to join the KGB, it was my teachers at the university who told me that I was good in cryptography," She confessed to me, having a smile on the left corner of her lips. "I want to wonder how my life could have been if I followed my parent's advice than my teacher's ones,"

"I don't know, you wouldn't have met me...or Zed," I suggested as the thoughts of another life came to me too. "Me; I would have like to...teach...or travel the world without having to carry a gun every day with me," I said.

"Things that we can't actually come back now, right?" Portnova presumed and I sadly nodded to her. "I'm not saying that...I didn't want to meet you & Zasha but if we could all avoid being mixed in a terrorist group, that could have been better,"

"Yeah, if there weren't the Collective..." I sighed, my hands getting below my chin to hold it. "Perseus made me a KGB officer just to...just as an insider agent," I revealed to her who wasn't surprised at that. "If I didn't join the KGB, I wouldn't have met Zasha and you," I exclaimed, a bit sad to tell myself sad: meeting the best friends in a path that I didn't like to take.

"Good choices...in a bad path," Portnova muttered to herself at my words, looking away from me.

"You know, I remember the day when we first met, you were very shy and looking stressed and now, you're very different," I stated.

"I can say thanks to you & Zeze for that," She smiled at me but that smile didn't last as tears came out of her eyes. "I'm scared, Grigoriev, I'm scared," She said, her voice sounding broken & in pain. "Zed is my only reason to hold on, I can't...I can't..."

"Hey, don't cry, Portnova," I demanded, moving my arms to hug her and trying to comfort her. "It's okay, we're going to flee, it'll be okay," I reassured her but she was still crying and it was slowly making me cry in silence.

I was staying to hug her but she was still crying in my arms and eventually, my own tears started to fall down my cheeks, even wondering to myself if what I said about being fine was really true but for the moment, I couldn't know. I was just trying to comfort a friend...

We all have a reason to hold on

My eyes opened by themselves in the middle of the night after that dream with Portnova, feeling myself a bit...sad of what I lived, seeing Portnova crying in my arms, that was the first time I saw her do that for real, knowing that she was never someone to be like that but no...I saw her cry, with tears and that...it was...troubling but my eyes didn't open by themselves because of that dream but...because were making noises in the apartment.

The phone was ringing permanently outside of the room and it wasn't stopping at all. I checked up my nightstand to see the time it was: 2:30 AM...and someone was trying to call the apartment at that time...for fuck sake, at 2 AM! I seriously thought at first that someone else than me will go to answer the phone but eventually, that wasn't going to be the case at all as I was the only one here awake to notice that.

It's with a big sigh that I woke up after getting Park's hands gently off me to get up from the bed, not taking the time to get dressed just to go answer the person that was constantly trying to call here. I opened the door, turning on the necessary light and meeting Beans who meowed at me, still not asleep before I join the phone in the living room.

"Yes?" I sighed, picking up the phone and using the most annoying voice that I have ever used in my life, adding a yawn to it.

"Thank god, finally," I was surprised when I heard Sarah's voice, the one working in Zasha's team through the phone, sounding very panicked.

"Sarah?" I whispered silently. "Why are you calling here, at Zasha's place at... 2 AM?" I asked her directly.

"Listen, I'm...I'm at Peter's place, he...shit, he killed himself!" She revealed to me, sending chills & freezing my blood at hearing those words. "Peter's death, he's...fuck...I don't know what happened but...you need to get over here now," She demanded, using the same voice she used when I first heard her.

"Wait, where is Peter's place located?" I asked her, trying to look around to find something to write on, found on the small table, a white pen & a small piece of paper.

"In the City of Westminster district, I needed to check him because I was going to tell him that I had feelings for him but...fuck...let me give you this precise address," She said before she starts to give me Peter's address, writing it on the piece of paper.

"What's happening?" I almost jump scared when I heard Park's voice coming into the room, wearing a simple shirt and nothing on her legs, sounding worried as I gestured for her to stay silent for a second.

"It's good, Sarah, I got it," I spoke up after I was done writing the address on the paper.

"Thanks, now..." She started to say before I heard a loud crash through the phone, like something falling on the ground. "Hey, fuckers, get off me...FUCK OFF!" I heard her shout in rage before the phone hanged up by itself, leaving me alone.

"Fuck!" I whispered before I turned around to Park, having to announce what I learned and what happened in a few moments from me...the situation just getting fucking worse... "Peter Furnill killed himself and Sarah, she has been kidnapped by someone before the phone hangs up, she gave me his address," I announced to Park who couldn't believe it.

"Bloody hell!" She roared, looking down at the ground as she was leaned with her left fist against the wall near the hallway leading to every room of the apartment before she got off, clenching her both fists...

"Dammit, let's get dressed now!"

[keilanabug]

Stargazing

Peter Parker x fem!reader, although it’s not the whole focus

Special thank you to my friends for letting me use their names or this fic could’ve gotten confusing to read.

Warnings: None. This is pure fluff.

Picture below belongs to Sierra Mahseelah. Please do not use.

You had gone stargazing several times before. You had gone stargazing several different places. It was one of your favorite things to do wherever you went.

But in New York, it was hard to see the stars with all the light pollution. You were so used to seeing the stars as you fell asleep.

So when you suggested to go Stargazing to the Avengers, they looked at you like you were crazy. “Y/N, there is nowhere to go stargazing in the whole state of New York where it will be possible to get away from the light pollution.”

“Whoever said it was here?”

Tony gave you a questioning look. “I know the best stargazing spots ever. And there’s no place like Montana.”

The Avengers chuckled. “You want to go to Montana?” Nat questioned.

“Yes! Please! Stargazing there is so much fun. And I know the best places we can go in Montana. My friends can meet us there. It’ll be fun and relaxing. And next week is the Sturgeon moon. Between that and the wildfire season, the moon will look amazing.” No one was going for it.

But luckily, Peter came to your side. “I think it sounds like an amazing idea Y/N! C’mon Mr. Stark it’ll be fun. Besides, I’ve barely left the state besides to go to D.C.”

“I mean, it’s not a bad idea. I mean, I think it could be fun.” Nat agreed. Tony still didn’t seem convinced. “C’mon Tony. It’ll be fun for Y/N to go home and Peter I’m sure would like to go somewhere besides NYC and D.C.” Steve said, jumping on the bandwagon. Tony looked at the four of you.

“I never said it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Well you didn’t seem convinced it was.” Nat shot back.

“You know what? Fine. We can go to Montana to Stargaze. What day is this ‘sturgeon moon’?” Tony asked.

“August 3rd.” You answered excitedly. “So I’ll call my friends and I can have them meet us at the spot around 9:30z could I go up a couple days early to help them set up?”

“Set up?” Peter asked, making it sound outrageous. “What do you have to set up? You gonna throw a whole party?”

“No. I just want to make sure your first time Stargazing is perfect. Besides, I’d like to see my friends. I haven’t seen them since May.” You explained.

Sure, the Avengers were your friends, your family even, but your first home would always be in Montana. It hasn’t been your choice to come to NYC, your parent’s jobs had required you to move here.

But that’s ok. You had a better chance to use your skills for things like helping the Avengers and becoming part of the team and working in the labs at SI and finding and making amazing new friends. Like Peter.

You flew out a few days later. You had vetoed the idea of calling them, so you could surprise them instead. And you knew that even with the short time frame, they’d be able to pull together something nice for the Stargazing night. Heck, you often threw your stargazing night party the same day you decided to do them. You weren’t worried.

Your best friend’s mom picked you up. She was in on the surprise thing and you’d be staying with one of your friends for the few days you would be here before the Avengers came.

“Are you excited to see everyone again?” Your best friend’s mom asked. “Yes. New York is great, but nothing beats home. I can’t wait to surprise all my friends.” She smiled at you.

“Miriam has no clue right?”

“No, no one does.” It was a 30 minute drive from the airport back to your hometown.

When you pull up to the house, you immediately jump out of the car, running to the front door like you had many times before. You opened the door with no hesitation yelling, “Miriam! I’m home!”

“Y/N?” You heard your friends voice from farther inside the house. Before seeing her face pop out, seeing yours.

“Y/N!” Miriam yelled in excitement, barreling into you for a hug. “Oh my goodness, it’s so good to see you! What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be back in New York…”

She whispered in your ear, “...the Avengers?” Only your closest friends and immediate family knew about you working with the Avengers.

“Yes. But I need your help. And the help of a few others.” Miriam smiled. “We’re getting the free back together?”

You smiled, “We’re getting the crew back together.”

Once you had the crew, which was composed of you, Miriam, and your friends Joselyn and Mackenzie, you told them the plan.

“Look, I’m not here for just any reason. I’ve convinced the Avengers to come out here and stargaze. But I need some help from you guys and want you guys to come with me.”

“You convinced the Avengers to come to Montana and Stargaze?” Joselyn asked you like you were crazy.

“Yes, ok. I want it to be perfect. Peter’s coming too and I want him to be impressed. Plus, it’s the Sturgeon moon and with fire season it’ll look absolutely amazing.”

“Peter?”

“My boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend? Ooh! How long have you been dating? You didn’t tell us about any boyfriend.” Miriam said.

“He asked me out to prom and we’ve been dating since then.”

“Since April?! And you didn’t tell us?!” Mackenzie exclaimed.

“It didn’t seem important. That’s besides the point. I need your help to set up a stargazing night for the Avengers. So I need any trucks I can get. Blankets and pillows too. Maybe tents if we can’t get enough trucks. And shopping for some treats and food? Can I count on your help?”

Your friends smiled at you before saying, “Only if we can come along too.” You smile, thinking about it. “Fine. Just, don't embarrass yourselves.”

Your friends cheered as you laughed. “Ok, so here’s the game plan…”

The day came and you had everything set up and ready at Miriam’s property. Trucks, and tents and even some hammocks between some of the trees. You had no idea when the Avenger’s would get here. You were just trying to have everything perfect and ready for them.

And you expected lots of different entrances for the Avengers. Landing the jet in the middle of Miriam’s field was not one of them. But you honestly didn’t expect anything less. You watched as the plane landed and the Avenger’s walked out of it, looking around.

“This is actually really nice.” Nat said, surprised. “Hey, don’t sound so surprised. I can have good ideas too. Welcome to Montana guys. These are my friends Miriam, Joselyn, and Mackenzie. They helped me with this.” The Avenger’s introduced themselves. It came to Peter and they smiled.

“So this is the boyfriend?” Miriam questioned. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “Yes, this is the boyfriend. Peter these are the friends I’ve told you about.”

“Oh. Ok. So what do we do during the stargazing party?”

“Yeah, what do we do?” Steve asked.

“Well, we cuddle up in our trucks or the tents with blankets and pillows, while we watch the stars. Spot constellations and what not. I often take pictures and we play music from my phone using a Bluetooth speaker. We also have lots of snacks. My friends already claimed the middle truck. I claim the outside left one with Peter.” Peter smiled.

“Anything else is free. You can often fit two to three people in the back of each of these trucks. So we can probably fit 4 to 6 more. It just depends on how massive you are and how much room is left in the trucks.

“The sun is almost completely set. Help yourselves.” You smiled. Everything was going well so far. You grabbed your camera before asking your friends and Peter if they wanted to do photos which they happily agreed to.

A bit later, soft music played in the background. You were talking to your friends when Peter grabbed your hand, pulling you down from the truck’s tailgate.

Peter walked you away from your friends. You chuckled, “What are you doing Peter? I was about to go snuggle up in the truck.”

“What? I can’t dance with my girlfriend?”

“Dance? Since when do you dance Parker?” You asked. “Since this seemed like such a romantic moment. Under the stars with my favorite girl with soft music playing in the background.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Just dance with me please.” Peter pleaded. You chuckled softly. “Fine.” Peter took your hand, placing his other on your hip. You got into position and you quietly danced as music played. It still wasn’t completely dark, but as you danced, you could see the moon rising, a bright light red color. You smile before placing your head on Peter’s chest as you dance.

The song ended and you looked at Peter who gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Can we go lay in the truck now and actually look at the stars now?” You asked.

Peter gave you a teasing exaggerated eye roll, “I guess.” You laughed, hoping into the back of the truck. You moved towards the back of the truck before lifting the blankets and getting under them, Peter following you. You snuggled close to each other, looking up at the stars.

Everyone was impressed with the amount of stars in the sky. And having lived most your life in Montana, you had grown so used to it, and were able to point out constellations.

But Peter has his eyes on you. He loved how happy you were. You pointed out every constellation Peter thought possible and he admired how much you enjoyed something so simple. And you wanted to share it with everyone. Most of the Avenger’s were talking to each other or spacing off or sleeping already. And here you were, pointing out stars, with your closest friends helping spot ones you were having trouble finding.

Peter finally looked up at the sky and pointed out a star. “I like that one. Look at how bright it is. Like you, you’re my little star.”

You couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend. “You know Peter, that’s also the northern star.”

“And you’re always pointing me in the right direction.” You were speechless. “Peter-“

You were cut off by a gentle kiss from Peter. When you pulled away, you smiled. “That was so sweet.”

“The kiss or the words?”

“Both.”

He kissed you again. “Ok, ok you two. No more PDA. You’re disgusting.” You and Peter both started laughing at Miriam’s scolding. “Wait Y/N and Peter were showing PDA? We can’t have any of that.” Steve scolded. You and Peter were laughing hard now.

“Excuse me teenagers, you are not allowed to show PDA. Remember the rules?” Tony yelled. You laughed with Peter. “Ok, ok. No more PDA. Promise.” You said.

You looked back at Peter. He shrugged. “You know you look really cute when you're pointing out the stars.” Heat rose in your cheeks. “Stars are my favorite. When I miss home, I can look up at the stars, and know that my friends are sleeping under the stars and everything feels right again. That’s part of why New York is too hard for me to live in. Too much light pollution.”

Peter smiled. “Well, I like the stars. They’re so beautiful. They remind me of you. Bright and happy and hopeful. A little light peaking through the darkness.”

“I love you Peter.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

And with those words, you snuggled up close, keeping each other warm during the cold summer night, falling asleep while watching the stars.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story!!! Feedback is always welcome. I hope you enjoyed it. Huge thank you (again) to Sierra Mahseelah (who is my uncle’s girlfriend) for giving me permission to use her photo.

Tagging some people: @tommysparker @the-crazy-fanfictionist @halfblood-princess-505 @angel-spidey @spideygirl2003 @tonguetiedholland @greenorangevioletgrass

[sirro85-blog]

Dark Horses: 1

Humans are unusual, in most other races the classification of attractiveness is simple. In the Flet it was size, the larger males and females were deemed more desirable. Amongst the Rhul the more colourful the skin the more attractive the potential mate, I could go on. With humans however it appears to be personal choice or perhaps I should say preference as humans don't get to choose who they find attractive.

Captain Becca was drawn to, in her words, "muscle bound dickheads" while Knickers preferred men who were less heavily muscled but extremely well groomed and Barbie preferred what she referred to as "pretty boys".

These three women were themselves all considered attractive but were physically all different (note that they were all of white European descent so their appearance was not as varied as humans can be) Becca was tall and had a slender build beneath her muscled frame. The two Cassidies Knickers and Barbie were very different in appearance. Knickers was slim and lightly built with delicate features; Barbie was named for her appearance, full figured with almost impossible proportions she was named for the old child's toy she so resembled.

Most fascinating to me was the response these physical appearances drew from others.

The soft "tock" "crack" of a snooker cue knocking two balls together was the background noise of the conversation as Becca watched Knickers clean up the table.

"I dunno, he's really handsome Knix but do you really want a guy that takes longer to get ready than you do?" They were discussing the liaison they were meeting with, one that Knickers had expressed appreciation of.

"Well now I know why Kovac always looks so rough, he's only got the time it takes for you to apply that one brand of eyeliner and put on some heels," laughed Barbie.

"Yeah but at least with Kovac, you know he can go all night," said Knickers in a knowing voice.

"How would you know?" Snapped Becca a little defensive.

"Oh not first hand but you forget I used to share a wall with Kovac, boy has stamina," Knickers and Barbie laughed at Becca's face.

"Well, you're not wrong," the Captain admitted grudgingly.

"At least you two get some eye candy, you don't see many of my type out here," Barbie said sulkily.

"We'll be back in Pelcar-3 soon enough and we'll all have something to look at," Becca said.

"Speaking of eye-candy, Bex somthin' for you to enjoy," Knickers said nodding to the bar.

Looking up Becca saw what Knickers was talking about, 12 soldiers of the Earth Defence Corps had just walked in.

"To look at maybe, I prefer my meatheads to be able to think...well now I do."

"No danger of that with this lot, they're not just EDC they're marines" muttered Barbie, she looked nervous.

The Earth Defence Corps was a partly private enterprise set up on earth when certain individuals and countries rejected the decision by the UN to entrust their military power to the Galactic Council. The EDC were founded to defend earth but since their inception has started to be used for "furthering the human cause" this usually meant trouble was close behind. Worst of all were the EDC marines the shocktroops of the corps, they viewed themselves as highly trained elites but most former UN troops called them "cannon fodder" and spoke of them with derision.

"That's game," said Knickers.

"That's me v Barbie to see who sucks more," said Becca.

"We all know that's your title sweet," said Barbie a little nastily.

"Being good at snooker is a legacy of a misspent youth," replied Becca haughtily.

"Right and we all know you spent your teenage years flat on your back with your ankles on your forehead." Knickers heckled, Barbie laughed so hard she spilled her drink.

Becca pouted and then glanced at the EDC soldiers, "where's Kovac and Wolf?"

"Relax Kovac won't let Wolf start a bar fight, he's responsible remember," Barbie said gesturing two tables over where the two men also played snooker.

"Sure, sober Kovac is responsible but let's not forget Bottle-of-Rum-Kovac is a mischievous deviant who takes great delight in upsetting people like local security forces, the Galactic Defence Air Command and the Korlax Dominion." Becca cautioned.

"True, Fun-Kovac would definitely enjoy embarrassing the EDC," Knickers agreed.

"You shouldn't call it Fun-Kovac, maybe Troubl-" Becca was cut off when one of the EDC marines pressed his groin against Barbie's backside as she bent over to take her shot.

As so often happened when humans grew violent I could not follow the flow of actions but one moment Barbie was bent over the snooker table and the marine was pressed up behind her and then Barbie was standing, the marine was face down on the table with the pool cue was jammed into the marine's throat turning him a purple colour and Barbie had a grip of the man's wrist, twisting it at a funny angle.

"Now I can only assume that as I found this hand in my skirt that it somehow belongs to me," Barbie said calmly into the sudden silence of the snooker hall. "Now I'm willing to return this hand perfectly undamaged if you promise to take it away and not bother me again...whimper pathetically if you agree."

Around the table a crowd had gathered, several EDC marines moved to help their friend but Wolf and Kovac were quick to block their way.

Barbie's victim stayed silent for a few more seconds before she applied a little more pressure to his arm and a wail escaped the marine's lips. "Good, all settled then," said Barbie and she shoved the marine away from her so he sprawled onto the floor, he received a kick to the rump as he struggled to his feet.

The marine regained his feet and nurses his arm for a moment before turning to regard the smaller woman before him. He appeared to gain some swagger back when he realised he was several inches taller and significantly heavier than Barbie.

He swore at Barbie and moved as if to grab her but she moved quicker, the snooker cue snapped out striking him in the throat and then as he staggered back Barbie connected a kick to the groin hard enough to lift him from the ground.

Chaos broke out, Kovac planted his forehead into the nearest marine and Wolf brought his drinking utensil into the face of his opponent. Knickers threw the snooker balls at the four marines approaching from the farside of the table, driving them back.

Becca backed up hurriedly as two marines closed on her. She staggered and flung up two hands, the marines paused, "wait, wait for God's sake these are 6 inch heels," and then delivered a kick to the closest marine's head that caught his jaw and snapped his head to the right and he dropped to the floor insensate, "even I need to get my balance right in these damn things," she said as the other marine rushed her. Becca fell back onto a table pulled both legs in and then kicked out hard, her left foot ineffectively struck the marine's arm but her right caught his thigh, her narrow heel puncturing his flesh and causing him to fall, Becca's swinging left foot caught him under the chin.

Wolf hurdled the snooker table to land crossbody on four marines sending them all sprawling, Barbie and Knickers had both used snooker cues to good effect beating two attackers down. Kovac was facing one more marine who appeared to be the leader, he eyed Kovac then drew a large knife from his belt. Kovac cast around for a weapon and realising nothing useful was near him stepped back and to his left putting an overturned stool between him and his armed opponent.

"Its a shame there isn't a fruit bowl here, you'd be amazed at what I can do with a pineapple," remarked Kovac.

The marine looked a little confused as Kovac edged back further muttering, "even a banana in a pinch," Kovac looked past the marine to the barman, "got any fruit?" He called.

"Fruit won't help," growled the marine.

"It'll keep you distracted," said Kovac as Becca hit the marine with a stool.

Only Wolf was still fighting, he was a blur of fists and feet as he pounded all four marines at once. Seeing his friends watching he stepped back, "take your friends and get out," he yelled gesturing at the various supine marines in the snooker hall, the bloodied marines gathered up their more unfortunate members and delarted.

Kovac paid for the damages and the friends left the bar.

"It's possible that we may live to regret upsetting the EDC," Wolf said as the five of them arrived at their rooms.

"God knows they regret pissing off Barbie," Kovac said.

"What are they doing this far out?" Wolf insisted.

"At a guess...The new colony on planet 1D.F7 will need security with its proximity to the Xhost controlled space. I think they're here for that."

"1D.F7? I'm no good with designations," Becca asked.

"They're calling it Thresh-28 as it's technically part of the Thresh system."

"That's a huge contract, it's going to be a major hub for this regions expansion, the Galactic Council won't employ EDC troops for that." Becca said.

"My guess...they will if the EDC are doing it cheap, and they will, they'll do it to get their foot in the door so they can take a pop at the Xhost, they haven't forgiven them for the incident with the Saturn defences. Once the EDC rile the Xhost up the Galactic Council will be forced to involve themselves to protect the Thresh and Galun systems. "

"Great so they're here looking for a fight and Barbie gave them one, good job Babs you saved the galaxy," Knickers laughed.

"Goodnight Knickers, Barbie, goodnight Captain," Kovac said steering Becca through the door to their rooms.

Humans unlike many races have the ability to overlook rational facts and logic and to trust opinions and their preferred versions of events to reality. Often they convince themselves that these alternative views are the "true" facts, such creatures would certainly be capable of starting a war over pride and imagined offence but I did not truly believe that even the EDC would look to provoke a war with the Xhost fanatics.

[bonetrader]

Unusual RPG combinations

I like to tinker with mixing and matching rpg settings and systems. I will try to collect the ones I'm most fascinated with. I haven't found the opportunity to actually try any of these combinations, but I guess it doesn't hurt to put them out there in case someone finds any of them interesting.

Shadowrun redux

Setting: Shadowrun

System: Blades in the Dark

I adore Shadowrun. It takes all the bleakness of reality, amplifies it, but also mixes it with a lot of magic and wonder. And if you read the books selectively, even with hope.

But playing it can get convoluted, especially if your group is prone to overplan. And we know that plans always go sideways. There's no such thing as a milk run. Spending an hour on planning can be annoying in itself. But it's extra painful if it has to be thrown out the window in the first five minutes of execution.

Enter Blades in the Dark that instead of planning ahead encourages to use flashbacks on the spot to reveal how you prepared in advance to get past an obstacle. That makes pulling off daring heists a lot more easier for the players. Infiltration is way less stressful on the player if they can make up any forged backstory on the go, and do a flashback to make sure it's believable. There's still some minimal planning, but it's practically just setting the starting scene of the run. You don't have to specify anything beyond that.

The concept of crew from Blades also fits nicely with Shadowrun. It can tell the GM what kind of runs the players prefer, and gives the players the ability tospecialize their team. Blades was created for a different level of technology and magic. But it mainly focuses on the hierarchy of the criminal underground, and that translates easily even to a modern world. So I expect the same crews to work with Shadowrun, but more thematic options could be added to tie it closer to the sixth world.

The concept of hunting grounds should be reconsidered. In Blades it means a specific neighbourhood the characters are more familiar with and usually target. In Shadowrun it makes more sense to make it a specific scenery they usually operate in. For example it could be a specific megacorporation they often go up against, or a type of gang that's common in the sprawls they operate in.

Blades also offers a nice subsystem for handling reputation, growth, notoriety, and even stress and trauma between runs. Incorporating a specific vice for each PC also seems completely in line with Shadowrun's concept.

The biggest difference will be in character creation. Blades' system is more abstract than Shadowrun's. In Blades you have to pick a specific playbook for your character. I think that's OK. While Shadowrun allowed building characters skill by skill, it always encouraged working toward specific archetypes like face, rigger, or adept. Your playbook determines your starting stats, but you can still somewhat specialize it. Blades also allows crossing from a playbook to a new one, but that's long term character advancement.

Adding some elements of Shadowrun might not be trivial. Spirits could be more or less handled as the ghosts in Blades. But magic and technology would have to be specifically addressed. Some of it could be treated like fluff, making it mechanically irrelevant whether your efforts are more effective because of training, because of an implant, or because you are infusing them with magic. But at least mages, riggers and deckers would probably need their own playbooks.

Twisted Houses of the Drow

Setting: any fantasy setting with drows, but I have a specific campaign idea for Spelljammer

System: Houses of the Blooded

This is a re-skin of Houses of the Blooded. The ven and the drow have different values and cultures, but I think they share a similar style. Decadence and intrigue runs deep in their societies. I'd replace the virtues (attributes) of the original game with corresponding vices. And each vice would be linked to a drow god instead of the totem animals of the original game.

Instead of the romance mechanic there would be rivalry. It would work the same way, just with a different flavour. Drows could pick someone as a rival, driving each other to greater feats. Instead of creating art drows could develop schemes. Same as the art mechanic. The scheme could give a bonus to those it was shared with. Seasons, regions, holdings, and blessings would have to be reworked, but I think renaming them would be enough in most cases.

My campaign idea is for a group of drow renegades employed by the elven admiralty as covert agents. They would be sent for long term infiltration missions to places where surface elves are not welcome. Each of them would have an affiliation with a drow god as well, and each would have their own hidden agenda. It might even work if not all characters are drows. I could imagine one or two elf, half-elf, or shapeshifter mixed in.

If I ever got to it seasons of the campaign would include: Building up a career of piracy in space (remember, Spelljammer) to get on the good side of a notorious and elusive pirate king, and lead the elven navy to its hideout. Instead of holdings the players could manage trade routes they raid, and their ships. Another would be infiltrating a drow city to stop an invasion. I think this would be the closest to the original Houses game. And finally I'd drop them in a mission to arrive as inmates to Elfcatraz, the secret prison of the admiralty (named by one of my players) to find out who's really in control there.

Around Cerilia in 80 days

Setting: Birthright

System: Primetime adventures

This one is kind of cheating, because Primetime adventures is quite setting-independent. So I rather mean it's a better fit for the kind of stories I'd like to run in this setting.

Birthright's setting works on a comprehensible scale for me. Most fantasy worlds have gigantic continents with dozens of large countries. They are too large for me, and I end up with a vast countryside where everything's the same for weeks to go. But Birthright has a small continent, maybe more like a large island with five distinct cultural regions. And each of those regions have a dozen provinces, each province described with its own flavor. It's not complicated, but colorful.

I guess it was done this way to accomodate the strategy aspect of Birthright that was one of its main features. While the concept of ruling provinces sounds great, the setting really makes me want to have a game about just travelling through this world. Not with adventurers, but rather with tourists, merchants, travelers who are going there to see a foreign place, or do business with the locals, and not just to explore a dungeon that happens to be there.

Ever since I saw the Roman Mysteries TV series I've been particularly fascinated with the idea of having a bunch of kids as player characters who are brought along by one's aunt/uncle on business trips to foreign lands, and get into trouble there. For example a trip from a frontier barony to the capital city, traveling through the woods of wary elves, then sailing down the river, stopping in a few more interesting port. Or a journey to the magnificent kingdoms in the east, although there are many perils both natural, and man-made on the way.

Thinking in Primetime adventures terms each province or city could be a separate episode. And the peculiarities of the place could be used to decide which character's spotlight episode should happen there.

Even domains of awnshegh (people and animals infected by the power of a dead god of darkness, becoming "monsters") don't have to be off limits. Some of them were quite sociable, and even more ruled over people whose perspective could be interesting.

Crown of Wings

Setting: Council of Wyrms

System: Birthright's domain management

Council of Wyrms focuses on playing dragons from various clans who work together. Despite the central role of the council, and the politics between the dragon clans, Council of Wyrms didn't touch much on the actual politics and realm management. It was the same AD&D, just scaled up to dragon PCs.

But I think there's so much more potential in the setting. I could easily imagine dragons ruling the land, managing guilds, and churches, and building out ley line networks to cast spells affecting whole realms. So everything that Birthright's system offered.

The setting isn't fully fleshed out, but it lets us fill in the land with fantastic locations. Some cities and towns were mentioned at unusual places, full of various races. So players could run wild with ideas when they create their own domain. Should their be trade routes with a merfolk city, and underwater ley lines? Absolutely. Could there be a church based on promoting the halfling lifestyle? Why not?

And then there's the Council. Domain Power could determine the character's status in it. Regency Points, and Gold Bars could be used as bargaining chips.

But what should be its purpose? I have seen enough of the trope of warring factions who have to be unified against some common threat, maybe with a traitorous faction thrown in the mix. I mean it makes for a fine story, but I'm getting a little tired of it. This time I'd rather see a council as a way to trade, to exchange ideas, and to help everybody improve their own clan. It doesn't make for a strong narrative, but I think it's a more positive message overall.

I think the biggest restriction in the setting is that dragon clans are too homogenic. Like, each clan consists of just one kind of dragon. That doesn't help in putting together a game with diverse characters. The original game concept solved that by making the PCs agents of the Council who may come from various clans.

For a more political game we could introduce mixed clans. So the characters could be part of the same clan, while still coming from various places. Maybe they are outcasts or survivors who created their own clan. Or maybe their clan was open minded, and was located in a central place, so it naturally lead to it becoming more diverse.

Or we could say that they are from different clans, but their clans are neighbours and allies of each other. At least if you're like me, and you don't want to set the players up for PvP by putting them to opposing sides of a clan feud.

Custom Quest

Setting: Your long-running campaign

System: Fiasco

I think any campaign that went on for a while should be an easy source for creating a Fiasco playset for a one-time play. Fiasco is about nobodies trying to pull off something bigger than they are. It's about petty people, and half-baked ideas going wrong. And while that might still sound like your average adventurer party, here we know they can't win. They will be lucky if they don't end up in a lot worse situation they started in.

For convenience I will refer to the PCs of the original campaign as heroes. It's okay if they are not actual heroes. That happens pretty often. But they had the greatest influence on the campaign this one shot is based on, so we have to heavily rely on them.

So the player characters in this one-shot are probably just background noise in the original campaign. I think this is a great way to explore how the actions of the heroes might affect the common people in unexpected ways. Objects driving the character dynamics could be things the heroes brought back, created, or just used in a memorable moment. Maybe an artifact they sold off is making its rounds on the blackmarket, and someone sees an opportunity in it. Or evidence surfaced that could incriminate one of the heroes.

And it's not just Objects. Their shenanigans might have brought the unwanted attention of a powerful cult to the city. Or the local barkeep loathes the heroes because they trashed his place one too many times. And he's just looking for some idiots to exact his revenge. Really, just look for whomever the heroes might have ever slighted or aided to get a plethora of petty plots and strange driving forces in the community. This can give you the Needs and Relationships between the player characters.

Locations could be places well known by the players, preferably close to a place the heroes frequent. The heroes, and the more memorable NPCs could give some enjoyable cameos. And finally they could become part of the Tilt table to turn a bad situation worse in the middle of the game.