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aprofessionalwithoutstandards · 1 year

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Funny pinned post time bc it felt more convenient ⬇⬇

Hi I'm Mick aprofessionalwithoutstandards (or Maria, or Mickey), I'm nineteen, bisexual, bigender transmasculine she/him, Latino, weird in the head, all that good. I might talk kinda strangely or not respond at all sometimes, so bear with me, it's all on me n not you. I'm almost always not trying to start shit. I really do love talking to people so always feel free to talk :)

This is my tf2 blog and has always been only a tf2 blog, sometimes I post Portal stuff too

I make posts. I failed to start an original post tag so most original posts are just tagged #tf2

This is not a primarily NSFW blog but I do reblog porn and have genuine, non-jokey conversations about sex and kink from time to time (the latter is much more common than the former). All of that is tagged under "#mick dicks", so block that tag if you don't want to see any of that sort of content

"#open mick night" is a wreck of a tag but technically it's for anything more personal or anecdotal. Sometimes it means "not tf2" but more often it means "gameplay anecdote"

"#mick fics" is my fic tag. I think my art tag is just "#my art" but I don't draw for tf2 a lot </3 "#oc tag" is for my ocs

I tag for slurs (reclaimed or otherwise), excessive gore, body horror, drugs, and mentions of pregnancy more explicit than the baboon uterus. If you want something else to be tagged, feel free to ask me, but full transparency I will not tag for blood, light gore, or guns. They're kind of unavoidable

I like Sniper, I main Sniper, I even, as the kids say, kin Sniper. This isn't like a roleplay blog or anything, referring to me as him and him as me is just done bc it goes to my head

Not like a dedicated ship blog but I do post a lot of ship stuff. Primarily swordvan, bushmed, demomedic, and funny adminsniper, but you'll basically see everything here from time to time. I try to keep it all tagged for your convenience

The only thing I ask is that you don't send me stuff abt sniperscout/speedingbullet, it's not like a "dni" you can interact if you post that idc but it's a big personal preference and I'd like to have that respected, tysm Oh also no scoutpauling asks tysm

I don't really have a dni but I am just going to ask people to be normal. I'm just some guy and people who send me asks and stuff are also just some guys, respect me and respect other people. I know there can feel like a disconnect but I do see everything people say in my notes and I'm generally trying to cultivate a nice positive setting for everyone lmao. When I complain abt stuff don't take it too seriously lol, we're all just here to have fun

Figured I should stick this on here somewhere: I've never watched Emesis Blue, I don't know what Freak Fortress is, I have never played Team Fortress Classic and I do not care, and I have little to no interest in "fem fortress"posting (I do not consider the trans/nonbinary headcanons I have for some characters to be "fem fortress"). Nothing against any of these things, I just don't really care about them and won't be able to answer questions about them

Main is @biracy (so I reply and send asks from here), ao3 is biracy, Steam acc is Grampus Gaming

#this is less like about Me and more about This Blog you need to find out my lore over time #open mick night

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goldenguillotines · 1 year

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A few things going forward- and I try not to make stuff like this but I feel like it's necessary not only to kinda. Put boundaries down but also for my comfort as well. This isn't sparked by one person but rather multiple occurances and just. Wanna be transparent, because I do have feelings. Gg isn't always super happy go getter energy silly everyone sees me as. I know some people don't really care and that's fine I just want to be clear (pls read tags as well)

I'm going to be selective with who I ship my characters/plot my characters with. I don't mind characters being friends and such but I have been feeling like I've been given mixed signals from people I've reached out to or during talking about them? It makes it hard to tell if I'm just on some one Sided eager excited and the other person isn't digging it. Or that plots get dropped and suddenly im seeing what we were planning or brainstorming thrown away because I wasn't told they were doing something with someone else. I need to explicitly say, I don't mind when plots cross, but if were planning a quad. Most of my characters are monogamous or specifically only open to polycules or occasionally fully polyam. I try to keep it single ship because of bad expierences in the past and my own comfort with how I interact with my characters. Hard to be super chipper excited about it when it brings up bad personal memories myself. I kinda put a piece of myself in every character so trust me when I say it makes me feel disjointed.

Just please be direct with me and tell me if you don't wanna! I hold these quads hostage basically with the idea of a ship that gets dragged on when I wanna do stuff! Again- I know I get excited and wanna do stuff!! Brand new blorbo syndrome!! You can just say no! I won't be mad! I promise. I won't be upset! Or just give me clarity that a quad is shifted. When I'm given no clarity at all- It makes me feel really bad. Again this is not about anyone in particular and imbkot trying to vague anyone but understand this has happened from different people

My commissions are gonna be semi-closed going forward. I don't have the time for it and frankly I'm not sure where I am art wise.

I am putting this blog on a semi Hiatus. Kinda smacking it with that sticker because I haven't really been producing art that i enjoy. Everyone can say "I love gg art" and all that but it's like looking at a mess I made on my canvas and just wondering where I went wrong. It's very very upsetting for me when art is my outlet, I do it to be happy! I like making! I really do. But I feel like stranger with it. My skills have stagnated and it hurts me a lot. The only thing I've felt like that hasn't been bad has been my chibis and I know people don't want to see those all the time. I'm kinda trying to work through it but it hurts. I'm a human, I have feelings. I try not to put my emotions too online or my problems because I think a lot of people here use Tumblr to escape like I do. I try to be positive! I wanna keep things happy and light but I can't always be like that

I wanna also mention I have been trying to keep up with everyone's happenings and stuff but I am awake about 12~14 hours a day working or having my responsibilities. I am tired. So if you haven't seen me in your notifications a lot or when you do, I seem deflated. I don't have a lot of energy to spare and I try to catch stuff here and there. But I won't be able to see everything. it's not that I'm avoiding anyone's content or something like that. I just. Have a physical job.

#long #negative (?)#Im not vauging anyone this isnt from anything like recent i jsut think memefurvur made some good points #that i felt like making something for my own. Because it made me realize i should say something rsther than like #pussyfoot it or ignore how i feel.#I kinda feel like a stranger recently and it feels bad. //shrugs// idk anyways im gonna go have my emotions for a while #I wont delete this one but know itd not anything i want to speak and repeat

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chaikachi · 1 year

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just want to issue brief apology for vague posting about community drama lately. I know it's only been in tags, under the very rare read more, or deleted shortly after it's been posted, but still.

I had a lot of interpersonal conflict with some of the folks I used to run both the RG server and RG week with. It was traumatizing in ways I am still recovering from (not hyperbole, I am in extensive therapy rn lmao). And while none of us are involved with the server anymore, whenever I hear about the event I get very frustrated with some of the context I have for the things they're doing. I want to share that context with the community because I feel like they deserve more honesty and transparency than they're getting. But I also know it's not my place to share. No longer my circus, or my monkeys and all that.

I also know these frustrations are coming from the hurt of that situation and the powerlessness i feel of not being able to talk about what happened publicly. I would love to scream from the rooftops how much harm some specific people caused and how, but harassment isn't activism and calling them out won't get any of us anywhere. Even if I did word it concisely, fairly, or vaguely enough, I still fear that they would fight back in the ways they did to me before and I just don't have the heart to be on the other end of their aggression again.

All that being said, even without most of the context I have, it seems the folks behind RG week have been burnt out from event running for about 2 years now. The only context I will give is that while I was on that team, I ran the entire Spring 2022 week by myself for the same reason that the Fall 2022 week didn't work out. Because everyone was burnt out, busy, or just didn't want to do the work. So I sincerely hope they reach a point sometime soon where they can be honest with themselves and their audience about their limits and either hire more help or pass on the torch to a team that does have the bandwidth to do it. Because just as much as the RG community deserves better, the mods deserve to not force themselves to maintain fandom responsibilities they don't have the energy for anymore. It's just a cycle of hurting themselves and those that rely on them. And until they either give up or someone else takes over by force, it's not going to get any better.

#tiny apology for being salty #re: -gestures vaguely at recent events-#might not leave this up but it's been weighing on me all week so seeing if just saying it helps

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rosetintedgunman · 9 months

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LIAM JACKSON

One thing I've always been transparent about is this: the Wilford that's on this blog wasn't supposed to exist in his timeline. William was supposed to die.

For the sake of good manners, I'm putting everything under a read-more.

Everything would play out as intended, until William and Abe first confront one another. It's tense, but Abe shoots first. He was aiming for the shoulder to try and disarm William. Knowing the soldier would be able to kill him instantly, he pulled the trigger too fast... and hit William in the neck instead.

William died almost instantly.

Celine wasn't supposed to be there. She was never meant to interrupt the confrontation and distract from the intended scenario. Her arrival meant that others were killed or gravely injured, while the one who was supposed to die survived.

But in this timeline...? William dies. There's another argument, but the Manor's influence has subsided.... And everyone else walks out the front door and into the safety of the external grounds. Alive. Safe. Traumatised, but they survived.

There's no Attorney stuck in the mirror. No Dark. No one driven mad from ten hours of mourning and watching death undo itself. Nothing. Just the missing corpse of the actor, and a dead soldier.

William's body is left alone while the others wait outside for the authorities. A brief investigation is undertaken to confirm what was said was true. But before the body can be taken away, it too vanishes.

The Actor sneaks out stage right in the stolen corpse.

As for William? Well... He was stuck alone in the Void. There's no looping hellscape here. No need for it. Instead, he's stuck in the same space as Mark's corpse. He can leave whenever he wants! Gosh, if only he had the magical skills to do that. But he doesn't! And he has to wait. For months. Until he absorbs enough of the Manor's energy to amplify his own abilities, ultimately claim and reshape the corpse, and push himself back into the world of the living.

His trust is gone. He paid that price to get out (I'll explain that properly for Dante another time). He's a soldier, completing his tasks on his own, getting revenge on those that wronged him - starting with setting the Manor on fire.

This... Is Liam.

He looks a little worse for wear. The bullet went into the side of his neck and out the other side. Though the entry and exit wounds are covered over now, the damage is done. The nerves related to the brachial plexus were damaged, essentially leaving his left arm paralysed and permanently drooped. However, he CAN move it, however wonky the movements might be, and this is solely through using his powers to manipulate his limb to bypass the use of the nerves. He won't tell anyone this unless he learns how to trust another again and let hkmself be vulnerable. Because of this, the only presence of a red glow is in the area from the left side of his neck to his left hand.

He also has no pupils visible. There's no reason for this. They're unharmed, but lacking them makes it harder to read his expression. If they do appear, they're simply black dots. His skin is pale grey, the eyes are essentially dark grey, and the pupils would be black, so there wouldn't be too much overlap there.

His scarf was taken off during the initial examination of the body and was removed from the site. His glasses, however, were dropped by mistake when he was burning the Manor.

The jacket is ripped. Some parts, like the left collar, were torn to try and lessen his pain when he first woke back up. The ends were pulled off when it got snagged. All medals have been ripped off, but he still wears the dog tags.

Liam spent a long time in the Void alone, and then longer after that on his own. Because of this, he doesn't talk a whole lot. If he does, it's to the point. His voice sounds a little hoarse from lack of use.

That's all I can think of for now, and I'm very tired. I'll leave you with this second sketch I quickly finished when I got home a little earlier.

Finally: why "Liam"?

Simply put, it's an alternate way to shorten the name "William", and it's one that no one used in life. People who knew him would be less likely to join the dots if they heard the name "Liam" in passing.

#(remember: my Will was intended to be the villain. It's why my Dante is so bad at it #it was never meant to be him)#just the intern (ooc)#on the tablet #(anyway I'm off to get some sleep)#liamcanon

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acaiasahi · 1 year

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indefinite hiatus notice + thank you for 100k! ★

hi everyone!

i just wanted to hop on here and say a couple things before logging out indefinitely.

one, thank you so much for 100k followers! i never thought this day would come, let alone get so much love for my silly fics, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you. i couldn't have achieved such a big following w/o the love and support of you guys <3.

two, i'm super sorry for falling off the face of the earth but as you can clearly see, i haven't really been active on here for the past month or so. i actually deleted a bunch of my side blogs except for @/run2tzu so don't worry if you don't see my other ones (not that anyone's searching... i had no bitches awn there 😭)

but to go more in depth, i haven't been into kpop for awhile now. it's less about the music aspect, but more-so of the fandoms. some, emphasis on some, fandoms are toxic, and being completely transparent, i'm just super tired of having to deal with such negative people. i love and will always love kpop, especially with all the people i've been able to connect with through it, but you can't blame me for wanting to step away from such a tiresome hobby.

i'm not sure how long i'll be gone for, i honestly might be away for quite some time. i've gotten into other hobbies like crocheting, i'm busy with work, and trying to get my life together because i'm turning 20 this year and that's terrifying lol. please understand my reasoning and be respectful.

again, thank you so much for your love during the past year and a half, i'm hoping to come back but i know it won't be any time soon.

tldr; thank u for 100k, i love u all and i'm going on an indefinite hiatus for idk how long bc the kpop scene is toxic af lmao

with lots of love and hugs,

jaydi.

tagging: @i-luvsang @tranquilpetrichor @h4chi @sseastar-main @seung-scrittore @sunoo-bby @eulris

#important

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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

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The Things We Don’t Say (modern AU - Actors)

Summary: No one is perfect, and sometimes, two people are just so perfectly flawed that those pieces fit together and make something beautiful. When sparks fly between two leads of a new hit show, is there a happy ending in sight, or will their own mistakes overshadow any chance they had at something worth fighting for.

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: This is a joyfully Captain Swan story, but there are a few warnings. It does start with Emma/Neal and Killian/Milah. I don't write non-CS, so there won't be any sexual anything happening 'on screen', so to speak, between those couples, but I won't guarantee there may not be a mention. This story contains numerous episodes of cheating. If any of these things make you squick or are not your bag, carry on.

AO3 - FF

- or read below the cut -

As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for further updates.

Tag list: @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @teamhook @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4

Chapter One

Emma scrolled through the email her manager had sent detailing the new role she was being offered. It was something fresh, something different from what she normally focused on—no hint of a police procedural in sight—and based on the tone, it sounded like they were very interested in getting her signed for one of the leads. She stretched her legs out along the couch, digging her cold toes underneath the pillows in search of some warmth, only to yank them back when she encountered something both crinkly and wet.

“Dammit, Neal! What the hell is this?” she growled, glaring at the brown sludge coating her foot.

She leaned forward, careful to angle her toes away from any other surface, and peeled the throw pillow from the couch. Smeared across the white fabric and the expensive leather was what looked like the remainder of a milky way bar, the wrapper still clinging to the puddle of caramel and chocolate.

“You have got to be kidding me. Neal!”

The only response she got was the sound of something hitting a pan full of oil in the kitchen, the apartment filled with the sizzling hiss of something frying. Dropping her phone and forgetting all about the email she’d just been reading, she hobbled down the hall into the bathroom to clean up, wondering how in the hell to get out a chocolate and caramel stain. Why he couldn’t just learn to clean up after himself was beyond understanding. Sometimes it felt like she was living with a teenager who never wanted to grow up, and she couldn’t help but long for the days when her apartment was clean and didn’t smell like whatever weird odor it was that Neal always brought home—grease and cigarette smoke, maybe.

Her foot finally clean enough to be walked on, she headed into the kitchen to get some paper towels only to be greeted by what looked like every dish she owned spread out on the counters and island. Every surface was dusted in flour and drips of batter, measuring spoons leaving trails of oil and sugar across the floor and counters alike.

“Oh my god,” she cringed, knowing the mess would be left for her. “What are you doing?”

“I was wondering when you’d get off the phone,” Neal poked, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder before motioning proudly over the mess that just seemed to get worse each time she looked at it. “I’m cooking.”

The casual way he always stabbed at her phone use was exactly what she didn’t want to hear right now. Maybe she wouldn’t have to spend so much time working if he bothered looking for something himself. He’d had a recurring role on a family comedy when they met, but he’d been fired not long after, and for the last six months, Emma was pretty sure he hadn’t even gone to any of the auditions she’d mentioned. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if he had an agent anymore.

“When was the last time you had a Milky Way?” she asked, choosing to ignore his snide comment. She just wasn’t in the mood.

“That’s a weird question. I don’t know, maybe last week? You didn’t pick any up the last time you ran to the store.”

Emma nodded, her lips drawn tight as she tore paper towels from the rack and returned to the living room, pulling what she could of the melted mass from the couch and thinking she’d need to resort to Google to get the rest out. Her anger bubbled with every sticky string of caramel that wrapped around her fingers. Why couldn’t he go to the store on his day off? He only had seven of them. She stomped back into the kitchen, hitting the garbage can a little harder than necessary and tossing the mess of chocolate and paper inside.

There was just enough room in the overload sink—what had he used the colander for—that she could wash her hands.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge. What was so important that you had to turn the entire kitchen into a complete disaster?” she questioned, already adding up how much time it would take her to wash and wipe everything down.

She’d be lucky if she was able to get back to her manager before tomorrow as requested.

“You remember that travel show we watched the other night?” he prodded, his eyes glued to the pan as it hissed on the stovetop, a spatula held ready in his hand. “You mentioned you hadn’t had good churros since that trip to Mexico, so I thought maybe I’d make you some.”

The anger that had been just about to boil over slipped away to that place far enough below everything else that she could just go back to ignoring it.

“Neal,” she sighed, suddenly more exhausted than anything else. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Ems—anything for you.”

In the living room her phone blared to life, the dark tones of The Imperial March echoing as it vibrated across the coffee table.

“Work calls,” Neal sniped, a trace of resentment running beneath the pleasant smile he fixed in her direction. “Wouldn’t want to keep Regina waiting.”

It was amazing how quickly that anger came right back to the top of everything, and she found her feet pushing her as far away from Neal as possible, snatching her phone from the table and forgetting entirely about the couch as she stormed into the bedroom.

“What?” she hissed, slamming the door behind her and clenching the cell like it was something she wanted to crush. “What is so important that you couldn’t give me a few more hours, Regina?”

The other end of the line was silent, as if Regina had either hung up, or was waiting for an apology. Well, she wasn’t getting one—not today.

“Is there something you needed, Regina?”

“Are you okay?” Regina asked, not as a friend, but as an employee that was curious to know how soon she would have to contact Emma’s PR team and inform them a mental breakdown was imminent.

“I’m fine. It’s just a bad time. I got the details you sent. I just haven’t read through everything yet.”

“Well, that explains why I haven’t heard from you. Honestly, I thought you cared more about your career than that. I was quite clear this was urgent. Don’t take your time with this one, Miss Swan—they want you, but they can’t wait much longer.”

The line went dead after Regina had delivered her scolding and Emma sighed, dropping to the bed and rolling onto her back as she flicked back into her email and started again from the top. It was an interesting premise with even more depth than she’d originally thought—a new series that centered on the mental health of a man who had developed delusions after a car accident that took his brother, leading him to believe everyone in the hospital was a character from a fairy tale world—but then she got the part that Regina really focused on, the money.

“Holy shit!” Emma gasped, double checking the figures and thinking how she’d never seen such a good offer—not for someone in her bracket. It was unheard of. “I guess they really do want me.”

It wasn’t until she read through the rest of the itinerary and details that she wondered if the big paycheck wasn’t recompense for the filming location and duration—the middle of Nowhere, Maine, as if Maine wasn’t already considered the middle of nowhere.

She read everything twice before she shot Regina a quick text.

E: I’ll take it

The message had only just sent and there were already three ellipses following. Emma could practically hear her manager’s smug response.

R: I knew you would. I’ll be in touch.

There should have been nerves fluttering in her stomach, or at least a solid pit of dread at the prospect of having to walk into the kitchen and tell Neal, but there was nothing. It was a big decision to move across the country for what could be a long-term role, but it was still her decision to make.

Hopefully, he would be happy for her, he would understand that this had the potential of lifting her out of her rut and providing great income for the foreseeable future. There were some great names attached, veterans of the industry that were looking to branch out into a new genre.

She was excited for the first time in a long time.

She didn’t need to feel guilty, at least that was what she told herself as a niggling pang of guilt worked its way into her chest.

It would be good to break it to him gently though, to put a good spin on it.

The minutes ticked by and she finally realizing she couldn’t put it off any longer, she wandered into the kitchen, her arms crossed in front of her as she looked for him, but the apartment was empty. The stove was turned off and a plate, probably the last clean one, was waiting on the counter with a pile of golden churros perched on top of a greasy paper towel.

Next to it was another torn paper towel with a note scratched onto it in sharpie.

The boys called and I’m heading out for a few beers. Don’t wait up. Enjoy the churros.

She waited for the anger to bubble back to the top, but there was nothing—no anger, no guilt, just a deep, hollow nothingness that grew and yawned as she fingered the scrap of a note transparent with oily fingerprints. Feeling like maybe this job had come at the best possible time, she picked up the plate of churros and walked over to the trash, watching them slide in with the rest of the garbage.

#Captain Swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #modern au #actors #the things we don't say

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manesalex · 4 years

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Argh, this fandom is crazy. The Michael stans who pretend they aren't his stans, are always going on about Michael being picked on by the Alex fans (which smells funky to me, because as far as I can see, Alex is the only one who gets constantly called out in their relationship) & the Alex stans (who don't hide their favour) seem like they are just simply trying to exist in this fandom. The 'Malex' fans who don't want Alex/Michael compared, I suggest they don't actively do that themselves.

Wow, Nonnie, you don't hold back! I hope you'll forgive me for being unwilling to generalize.

First, I'm going to say that, in my long time in fandom, I've learned there are assholes in every segment of every fandom. Every ship has a few jerks who won't stay out of the other ship's tags. Every character has fans who think the sun shines out of their fave's ass and they've done nothing wrong. Every fandom has a few people who spend a lot of time and energy stirring up drama. I'm generally suspicious of anyone who claims otherwise.

But, yes, I think that anyone who is really involved in a fandom and claims objectivity is either lying to themselves or lying to everyone else. And they're usually pretty transparent.

Generally, my approach is acknowledging who my fave is, acknowledging that my opinion is just that, an opinion, and trying my hardest to understand where all the characters are coming from, whether or not I agree with their actions. That's as close to objectivity as I get. It may not be perfect and other people may not like it, but it's what works best for me.

I personally don't follow any Alex stans who constantly pick on Michael (most of us don't talk about him much at all outside of his relationship with Alex). Most of what I see is simply love for Alex and defending him when others blame him or make him responsible for other characters' actions/decisions. Personally, seeing that is pretty triggering. And I have seen that a lot in this fandom.

Most of us know Alex isn't perfect. We see him trying to do better and we're proud of him for that. Or maybe just I am. Watching Alex gives me hope.

I'd imagine there are some asshole Alex fans. Just like there are some asshole Michael fans. I'd imagine the silent majority of fans of each just want to be able to love their fave in peace. Unfortunately, we probably mostly see the loud asshole stans of the other, rather than those who are just appreciating their fave.

I just want to be able to love Alex in peace. I want to stop seeing people saying "you're an awful person if you ship x or stan y". I want to stop seeing posts in which people claim that, somehow, Alex is responsible for other characters' decisions and actions. And posts in which people assume the worst of intentions from him in order to make their fave look like a victim of 'evil Alex Manes'.

I want to stop seeing Alex fans, most often those who are women of color, bullied out of fandom by fans of other characters. I want to stop seeing victim blaming behavior.

I know I won't though, so I'm trying my hardest to blacklist all the discourse and block anyone I feel is trying to stir up drama. I'm trying to make my dash my safe corner in this fandom, as I have in others. I hope you can do the same!

#long post #fandom drama #discourse #ship wars #ask me stuff #thanks so much for the ask!#roswell new mexico

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prxttypxrker · 5 years

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our endgame [T.S]

fandom: Marvel

pairing: Tony Stark x OC (father-daughter)

word count: 2,607

summary: after five years of pent up guilt and and helping each other cope with the loss of those who didn’t survive the snap, the two girls find themselves in a sudden situation they hoped for, but never really believed would come to play

tag list: @nerdypisces160

A/N: I don’t want to put too much happening in these chapters because I don’t want this to be or feel rushed so they will be relatively short. Also, the events will not 100% be based on endgame because this fic idea is actually based off of an rp I had with a very good friend on discord that I felt would be amazing as an actual story. So as future reference for everyone that reads this—NOT 100% BASED ON ENDGAME. THERE WILL BE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN MOVIE EVENTS AND FIC EVENTS

—

pre endgame

two

She was exhausted, that much could be said. Day in and day out for the last half decade, her friend would visit just to find that she wasn't in the house, but out in the backyard exerting too much energy. It was only a miracle that those who were left never saw her doing what she did every morning, afternoon and night. The activity was so prolonged Tala was sure her best friend got little to no sleep. That day they both discovered the other was still on Earth, she'd seen the never-ending result of visiting Tony Stark and the toll it had. The search for how to get their friends and family back never left either of their minds, but at the same time it was too difficult to figure out on their own. Even if they discovered a way to save everybody, it was two against the universe—an odd that was never going to be in their favor.

Tala marched through the tall grass that led to the fenced in yard, immediately coming to view with the many targets and practice dummies. Any size, shape and form of a sword—all covered in either a dark glow or blue sparks—laid in a pile against one side of the fence. She bent over and tried to pick one up, only to have black electricity nearly shock her if she hadn't moved back in time. She sighed and stood up, facing her friend. “Kirsy.” There wasn't a response as the brunette continued to make various hand movements to strike the objects in front of her. “Kirsy. Mind taking a break for a bit?”

Said girl let out a rough breath, the light and dark fading away from everything they engulfed as she set her arms down by her sides. She straightened up and turned to face the only person she'd really had any form of contact with since then. “If I take a break then however much time I spend on it is less time to get stronger.”

Tala rolled her eyes, walking toward a bench covered by the shade of the trees from next door. She patted the spot beside her, waiting until the slightly older of the two gave in and sat in the empty space. “You've been doing this almost every day for five years. You can't stay cooped up in this townhouse blasting everything in the backyard and then replacing them for the next day. You've used it up too much.”

Kirsy chuckled humorlessly, making her friend frown. “I'm not like you, Tala. I can't live knowing that all of them just... aren't.”

“What's the point of surviving being wiped away if you won't do just that? You've been working your ass off non-stop for months on end. You're definitely stronger, so now you just need to take a real break.”

“But Peter and the others-”

“They can wait until we have an actual plan. We can't go who the hell knows where with powers blazing.”

Silence. It filled the open air and hung in the small atmosphere of the pair's own little hero club. Kirsy knew she was right—it was obvious. All that time spent draining herself and her powers each night was starting to take a physical and mental toll on her. What the founder of Stark Industries said himself rang in her head every second of each moment she was still breathing, and instead of using it to rationalize she used it as a fuel to keep going. To her, each and every minute she spent doing anything but training was a pointless minute that everyone who didn’t make it were trapped somewhere. There was really nothing that interested her after the events of the Snap. Whatever career she wanted to get a jump on during high school was long forgotten. Any goals written on her bucket list had no reason in being done anymore. She didn’t even feel like learning anything, but the impeccable loss of half of the universe was something that also kept her needing as much knowledge as possible. It didn’t really feel like there was much of a purpose for the pair of young adults, or at least not for her. It still didn’t feel right to try and have a good life while so many people were gone.

As the girls sat in this familiar and comfortable quiet, a somber look settled on Kirsy’s face.

Flashes of her encounter with Tony slowly transitioned into a recurring dream she’d been having at least once a week for the past few years. A dream that plagued her mind from day to night, never ceasing to rewind and play all over again whenever she stopped to take a breath or get those minimal hours of sleep. It wasn’t that he was in the wrong. She learned soon after she left his home that day that he wasn’t. It was the fact that he was right. If the people who protected Earth for years weren’t able to get everyone back—if the iron legend himself was trapped in a limited oxygenic ship for days and nearly died—then there was nothing he could’ve done for her. Even if she showed him what she could do and he said yes, the others were still living their own lives as best they could during this time of loss, grief and moving forward. It was obvious there was no plan of action or hints to lead them somewhere, but she didn’t want to stop trying. No matter how much Tala scolded her or how weak she became in other aspects while she became stronger within her powers, it just didn’t matter if they couldn’t be brought back. And she had to do it. She had to get everyone back home.

Kirsy cleared her throat, gaining the other girl's attention. “I guess you might be right.” Tala raised an eyebrow, not saying anything in order to let her friend continue speaking. “I need to let myself relax. It’s been five years and there have been no signs of...”

She trailed off at the sight of a shining object in the sky. It wasn’t easy to make out what it was, but it was easy to see that it seemed to be hurtling toward them at a speed no human or all heroes could ever muster. Tala followed her friend’s gaze and her eyes widened. “What is that?”

“I don’t know..” A flash of colors made it familiar to her, though no chance could be taken. She didn’t know who or what was left behind after the Snap, and she wasn’t going to take any risks or chances even after all this time since then. “Do you remember how to shape your shield?”

Tala scoffed, “I may not have run myself ragged but I know how to use my powers.” Without explanation, she closed her eyes and took a breath, the brown of her irises now a purple hue. Purple light engulfed her hands and she began to make a shape with her hands, drawing together a force field that would only grow around the back yard and themselves, leaving an open circle at the top. Once the almost transparent shield was up, electricity surged and sparked at Kirsy’s fingertips. She brought them closer together and tied the live wires, creating an arrow that she was able to shoot into the sky. There was a slight pull when the arrow attached itself, and a jolt went off in her system, and she held onto the rope it created before pulling it down to the ground. In mere seconds the object landed with a loud thud, crashing into some of the targets that were still up. The two let the products of their abilities disappear, both pairs of hands still glowing with the colors of their magistry as they approached the formerly unidentified object. As the smoke from the crash began to clear up there was the familial shine of red and gold. When a cough resonated from within the metal shell, their eyes widened.

All that could be said then was, “Oh, shit.”

“What did we do?!”

“We?! I’m not the one with the shock-y hands!” Tala exclaimed, quickly going to remove the dirt and target dummy remains from atop the man in the suit.

two and a half hours later

“I am so sorry, Mr. Stark. If I knew it was you I definitely wouldn’t have done that.”

“That’s the sixth apology you’ve given me in the past two hours.” Tony told her, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I suspect you don’t usually go around hurtling flying people towards you with electricity coming out of your hands.” The man stated, an ironic tone lying underneath his words.

“Nope—just you.” Tala replied with a grin, not at all letting herself fan girl over the super genius and instead choosing to joke around.

Kirsy glanced between her friend and former chance of saving her other friends. It was weird watching this unfold before her. Approaching him that long ago was completely different than him flying toward her only to end up getting some circuits messed up by two young adults. This time wasn’t a search and beg mission. This time he came to her, and nothing in her occupied space of mind could muster up a reason.

“Mr. Stark..” she started, gaining the attention once more, “why are you here?” She looked up at him. “I mean I came to you five years ago asking for information, which I got, and help that you said you couldn’t give me. We haven’t been in contact since then.”

Tony gazed at her, setting down the coffee the girls made because they felt bad about the incident. He could see the desperation, as well as the fact she practically reeked of it the moment he was fully aware of his surroundings again. He had no clue how strong or weak she was when they had their first encounter, but it sounded like she didn’t let up since then. The force she had in those few seconds of her and her friend defending themselves was something he never thought he would come across; at least not in the form of a 20 year old short circuiting his most recently upgraded iron armor with electric currents that shot out from her fingers. And the other girl? That shield she conjured was definitely something he had never seen before.

After the sneak attack he received earlier that day, he took time to think back to when Kirsy marched herself into his life that day, only to drag herself back out when he couldn’t help her. He was racked with guilt every day since seeing the look on her face when she left, and when the others approached him that morning reconciling with her was one of the first things on his mind.

He cleared his throat noticing the gap of silence between the three of them, and set down the mug in his hand. He leaned back against the chair, shoving his hands in the pockets of the hoodie he wore underneath the suit. “Some... friends came to me today. Asked for some assistance in creating a sequence that would allow us to go back and get the stones.” The girls’ eyes widened, but neither moved to interrupt the stay-at-home scientist. “I didn’t want to help them at first. I was able to build a life past what happened; I couldn’t jeopardize that again. But memories made me figure that I at least had to try. I did it, and I know I told you I couldn’t help,” He kept a steady look on Kirsy, watching the realization form an expression on her face, “but now I can.”

“So you’re asking for our help?” Tala raised an eyebrow, the anticipation eating away at her on the inside while hope and suspicion shared the stage on the outside.

Tony cast his orbs her way as he stood from his spot, now looking down at the two girls. “I guess I am. So what do you say, kid—you ready to go save your friend?”

“And the universe.”

“Yeah, that too.”

The pair of best friends shared a glance of what could only be a flurry of excitement, anxiety, hope and the readiness that was questions seconds ago. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening to them. She spent half a decade wallowing in self pity and staring at photographs pinned against her wall and mirror, missing those she lost more and more every day. Her dad, her aunt and cousin, her friends, her coworkers, her crush. Everyone but Tala was out of her life for good. Well, she thought it was for good. And even though that seemed to be the case a shred of her never lost sight of the theory on what happened and the possibility that she could have done something back then if given the chance she lost months ago. Now that chance was standing in her half dining room, staring down at her and her lifelong friend and not only offering help her way but also asking for her help in return. It felt like her daydream was coming to life and her nightmares could finally cease to exist, and it was already starting to feel like a weight being lifted off of her shoulders.

With a grin in place of the earlier neutral formation, Kirsy nodded her head firmly. “We’re ready, sir.”

A ghost of a smile twitched at the ends of the man’s lips. “Good, then let’s go.”

Tala’s head snapped toward his figure when he started to walk to the front of the complex. “Wait wait wait. We’re leaving now?”

He turned to look at her with a shrug, raising a brow at her question. “Does that sound like a smart question to you?” The Filipino narrowed her eyes at him. “Look—I have a super soldier, an expert assassin, a thunder god, a green giant with glasses, a girl with proton blasts for hands, and a blue space cyborg sitting around in my old tower. Do you think I want to go waltzing in there without an entourage?”

Tala rolled her eyes and a chuckle resonated from the Dominican girl’s throat. The bickering pair looked over to see her already grabbing keys from a side table by the front door. “As dumbstruck as I am right now, I’m not wasting time in taking this opportunity. So let’s get in the car and go.” No one protested while she marched her way out the door, not bothering to lock the door when everyone was outside because how many people were even left in this city for her to lock her house for safety.

A double beep sounded from the vehicle and she opened the driver door. Tony groaned when he realized he would be sitting in the backseat like the third person of any group hangout, but also not complaining to being able to have a driver for the day like he used to. As he was about to let himself into the car Kirsy announced his name and he shot her a questioning glance. “I may not be making you fly to your old house, but if you call me your entourage one more time I’m going to shock you on purpose this time.”

“Testy.” He muttered, giving her a sarcastic look before getting in. Yet he couldn’t help but still see a part of him in her, and his motive of having her on the team for this grew a bit more.

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