I'm going pro in sitting on my couch

[healingmirth]

I worked really hard at volleyball last night, okay? There was sweat and everything, so clearly what I need to do today is watch 5 hours of hockey and have corn chips & avocado for dinner.

---

A meme! via muccamukk
Tell me a little about a story I haven't written, and I'll give you several sentences from that story.

Fandoms I've actually finished fic in include:

Live Free or Die Hard (actually any Die Hard but 5, which I totally forgot to see), Inception, American Idiot the musical, Stargate Atlantis, Firefly, Valentine's Day, Smokin' Aces, The Unusuals, Justified, Veronica Mars, Sports Night, The Eagle of the Ninth.

Basically anything else I've talked about here is fair game - so, uh, Teen Wolf, Vikings, Hockey RPF, The Losers, The Breakfast Club... or anything you think I might have talked about at some point, if you don't mind that I write you something with the characters heads pasted on based on 5 minutes of wikipedia and youtube.

---

Of relevance to basically no one on my flist, but probably proof of how little I care about the New York Rangers: until about an hour ago, I really thought Dan Girardi was a forward. Oops.

Slightly more relevant to some of you: in looking at the google a few minutes ago, I happened upon Taylor Pyatt, whose team I could not previously have identified for love or money. The top suggested google image searches are "taylor pyatt eyes" and "taylor pyatt shirtless" and "taylor pyatt hot" with which I concur. Mostly the eyes one. here, have a link to a tumblr image

Comments

[muccamukk]

That Losers fic you wrote with Cougar, Pooch and Jensen holed up, where most of the communication was either body language, profanity, or read between the lines of off topic conversation.

[healingmirth]

It's been 24 hours, and I still have no idea who they're hiding from, where they're hiding (other than somewhere vaguely urban in South America), or where anyone else is, so...

***

As far as Pooch is concerned, they're good. They've got water, and probably-beef jerky, and he's hasn't lost so much blood that his vision goes swimmy. He's had worse days. He's had worse days this year.

There's even a game on, if you count distorted audio from the apartment below them. Of course, it's in Spanish, and it sounds like soccer, but he's not really in a position to be picky. As if the floor-rattling volume wasn't enough, the way whoever's watching jumps up and down when the announcer gets excited is a nice touch.

Cougar's focus hasn't left the window for more than five seconds at a time since they'd dropped in from the roof. It's so covered in soot that Pooch has a hard time believing that Cougar can see anything, but damned if he's going to question it.

And Pooch has been sitting in the corner for almost as long as Cougar's been at the window. Jensen... has not.

He'd paced for a while, until Cougar actually turned his whole body away from the window and stared at Jensen for what felt like the longest moment of Pooch's life. Jensen had responded by turning away from both of them and then dropped to the floor in the middle of the room. The cloud of dust that puffed up made him have to stifle a sneeze.

The setting sun fighting to come through the window doesn't make anything look glowy or romantic. It does a pretty good job of showing off how long it really takes dust to settle, when you have nothing else to do but watch dust settle.

***

The good news is that no one seems to be looking for them. The bad news, of course, is also that no one is likely to be looking for them.

Pooch is too tired to be tense, but not too tired to be bored. The second part of which he says out loud because even if his vision isn't swimmy, his brain seems to be.

"Nothing a smartphone and a deck of cards can't fix," Jensen says, a reflex before remembering that they don't have a smartphone or a deck of cards.

What they do have is the contents of Cougar's pockets, Pooch's pack, and Jensen's brain. If that wasn't the least helpful combination of those people and possessions, then Pooch would eat Cougar's hat, and then promptly die, because that shit was probably coated in iocane powder.

[muccamukk]

This is great. Why have you not, in fact, written that fic? You do wonderful Losers voices.

Love the last paragraph especially.

[dirty_diana]

the one where John McClane retires.