#anyway whoever reads this far in the tags deserves a prize

[redstone-sun]

its my birthday today so lemme tell yall: writing the hermits in the world of control (2019) is SO fucking fun. holy shit i love it. however i will probably not end up posting any of it bc most of it is gratuitous mumbo suffering(expected) and ahti cameos(surprising). also control!zed has asthma and i dont really have an explanation for why

[narakurosaki]

title: jealousy

collection: equivalent exchange

summary: the resembool trio attend resembool’s summer festival. unfortunately, jealousy isn’t a good look on a certain elric brother.

rating: t

words: 4173

accepting prompts!

read on ao3

. . .

It reeks of sheep shit.

Resembool was known as a sheep-farming town, using the gathered wool to craft Amestrian military uniforms. The smell shouldn’t be a surprise, but the awful odor still causes Edward to gag. He’s grown used to the shit-free scents encountered across Amestris during his travels—Central reeked of car fumes and smoke from factories; Dublith had become associated with the stench of blood and raw meat thanks to the Curtis’ butcher shop; Liore held the scent of sand in its air; and Briggs stunk of overpriced coffee. The scent of shit in the air had even overwhelmed Alphonse, bringing up his earlier lunch the moment the brothers stepped off of the train. It was the scent of home, he’d smiled, spitting the taste of bile into a nearby trash can. Edward begged to differ. There’s a reason he prefers to stay indoors, the smell of burnt electrical wiring and oil mixing with the mouthwatering scent of freshly baked apple pie.

The strumming of a guitar, the banging of a drum, and the clapping of hands are like nails against a chalkboard. Reaembool’s annual summer festival was in full swing, complete with food, drinks, rigged games, and dancing. Alphonse had been counting down the days since summer began, crossing each passing day off of the calendar until the circled date had approached. He’d gained enough physical strength since returning home to walk without the aid of a crutch—he looked like a proper fifteen-year-old boy, now; his bones no longer protruded from his skin, and he’d even began gaining a healthy amount of belly fat. Edward and Winry had worried themselves silly when Al announced he would partake in dancing with old friends, but Pinako had assured them that Alphonse knew what his body could handle. Still, Edward watches the dance floor for a glimpse of his little brother, spinning in circles with a different girl than before.

The moment dancing was mentioned, however, Edward bid the two farewell, wandering aimlessly along the riverbank. It drained him to be around Resembool citizens his age—they often posed questions regarding his newfound flesh arm, or inquired about his time spent in the military. Some even asked him to perform alchemy, unintentionally striking a cord within him. The friends he and Al had made in grade school weren’t forced to grow up far too quickly. As far as he was concerned, he, Al, and Winry were the most mature teenagers in town.

But, he understood Alphonse’s want to mingle. He deserved to be carefree after spending so long as a suit of armor. Winry tagged along to keep him company, arguing with Edward about ditching his younger brother. She’d yelled that he was a fucking jerk and to go home if he was going to act like that.

He sighs. Things with her had gotten incredibly confusing as of late. Maybe that was his fault; he had kissed her two days ago, and had barely spoken a word to her since. Could that be adding fuel to the fire that was her anger with him for ditching Alphonse? Could that be why he’s been seeing glimpses of her in the distance, spun around the dance floor by another man, a grin on her face?

His hands ball into fists, a fire burning in the pit of his stomach. He knows he shouldn’t care—Winry was free to dance with whoever she wanted. They weren’t dating, after all. They’d only kissed briefly one night, and Edward had scurried back to his room before she could ask what it meant. Perhaps this was payback, not that he would blame her. He deserves it.

To his right, leaves crunch beneath someone’s feet. He lifts his head, averting his gaze from the sheep, searching for the source. Illuminated by the moonlight reflecting off of the river are golden eyes, closed as their owner smiles. Alphonse holds his hand up in a friendly wave.

“You’re missing out,” he speaks into the silence, settling beside his older brother. “We’re having a lot of fun back there.”

“Trust me,” Edward waves a hand, dismissively, “I’m well aware.”

He chances a glance back at the dance floor. It’s easy enough to pick Winry out from the others—long blonde hair that flows freely down her back, a pretty white dress that ends just below her knees, a bright smile that makes his heart race in his chest. There’s a pair of hands at her waist, and Edward squints to make out who they belong to. It’s Benjamin Thompson, a local farmer boy that Ed knew nothing of, other than his hatred for him in this moment. Winry’s arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. She throws her head back to laugh at something he’s whispered in her ear. The hair on the back of Ed’s neck stands on end.

“You could’ve danced with her, you know.”

He looks to Al, brow furrowed. “These festivals aren’t exactly my style.”

Alphonse rolls his eyes. “Would it kill you to think of someone other than yourself for once?” He leans partially into the pen, running his hand through sheep wool, one by one. “You think Winry wants to dance with those guys?”

Edward drops his gaze to the sheep gathering around his brother’s hand. “Sure seems like it.”

Several sheep baa in Al’s direction. He smiles and reaches his other hand in, commenting that he will gladly pet them all if they would wait their turn. He cranes his head to look at Edward. “She’s trying to make the best out of a bad situation, Brother. Do you know how confused she must be? You spent an absurd amount of money on that ring toss game just to win her that bear she said was cute.”

Ed drags his right hand along the length of his jaw. He had only want to make her happy with that damned plush bear. Seeing Winry smile was one of the greatest sights to behold. While Edward pumped a fist in the air upon landing the winning toss, Winry was jumping up

and down with excitement as the attendant fetched her prize. She’d hugged it so tightly, Edward had joked that she’d squeeze the stuffing out of it.

“…I kissed her the other night.”

It’s spoken so suddenly, so out of no where, that Alphonse removes his hands from the sheep pen. They baa in annoyance, to which Edward glares at them. Stupid, smelly, annoying things.

“You…” Al’s jaw goes slack. It’s evident in the way his cheeks twitch that he wants to smile. His expression remains blank. “When? How? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Edward offers a lazy shrug. “Two nights ago. We were saying goodnight in the hall and it just… happened. It wasn’t anything big.”

“Are you kidding!?” Al runs both hands through his short, golden hair. “Brother, Ed, this is huge! I’ve been waiting for you two to do something since we got back home!” A groan escapes him. His head falls forward, bangs bouncing against his forehead. “Leave it to you to screw things up.”

Where a retort from the elder Elric would be, there is only silence. He looks back at the sheep, now wandering and munching on grass. He begins to pull at the fingers of his right hand. “Maybe she’ll kiss someone else, tonight. She seems pretty comfortable with that Benjamin jackass.”

He can feel his brother’s golden eyes on him, feel the judgment as though it were rain drops upon his skin. Alphonse breathes a sigh from his nose. “There’s a way to fix this, but if you’re going to be stubborn I can’t help you. I have to get back to the dance—I promised Angela I’d dance with her.”

Ed gives a nod.

Al pats his brother’s shoulder, an act of comfort, before making his return to the dance floor. Edward wrings his hands together. A few sheep linger near him, desperate for the human touch Alphonse had offered. Ed only scoffs.

“One way to fix it my ass,” he grouses, gripping the wood until his knuckles go white. “No way in hell am I prying her away from some redneck just to beg her to give me another chance.”

He pushes himself away from the sheep pen, the wood creaking in defiance. The sound alerts the sheep, and a dozen pair of eyes settle on him. “Oh, you guys gonna judge me, too?” But the sheep quickly return to their grazing. Ed rolls his eyes and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. He begins the trek back to the Rockbell house.

If he looks, he can still see Winry dancing with the Thompson boy. His face is burnt from the sun, his messy brown hair falls in his eyes, and he grins from ear-to-ear as he spins Winry around like he knows what he’s doing. His wears a red and white checkered button up shirt with a basic pair of blue jeans and boots. Edward grits his teeth. The outfit was practically the standard amongst the working men of Resembool—Ed and Al had influence from the cities of Amestris when it came to their fashion. It made Edward feel overdressed at this stupid festival, walking around in a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of black slacks covering his ass, and black boots on his feet. Alphonse had dressed similarly, and Ed often heard the girls gossiping about how handsome he looked. At least it worked out for him, in the end.

He pushes his bangs back and flexes his jaw. Maybe his behavior had pushed Winry into the arms of another man, as Al suggested. There was no fixing it now, not in his mind, anyway. He and Winry had fought shortly after he’d won her that stupid stuffed bear. He wouldn’t blame her if she’d tossed it in the river out of anger. He’d fucked up pretty badly.

The sounds of the festival—instruments, laughter and chatter, the stomping of feet—begin to fade the more distance Edward puts between them. He watches his feet carry him down the familiar path home, kicking any rock that stands in his way. Granny would ask why he was home so early the moment he walked through the door. There wasn’t any use lying to her—she could read him like a book—but he didn’t want to talk about it, either. He planned to climb up the stairs and settle in his bed, doing his best to forget what he’d seen and sleep the remainder of the night away.

Maybe if he hadn’t acted so stupid after kissing her. Maybe if he’d manned up and discussed how he felt, he wouldn’t be in the situation he was now. But he’d learned at a young age that there was no fixing your mistakes. At least, no easily, and this one seemed beyond repair.

“Dammit, Ed, what are you doing?”

He stops to look over his shoulder, the familiar voice catching him off guard. He blinks, eyes widening as his brain registers the sight before him: Winry is running down the dirt path, oversized bear hugged against her chest, desperately trying to catch up to him.

His chest tightens.

“What’s it look like?” His voice lacks its usual hardness. He’s unable to mask the pain. “I’m going home. I didn’t want to be at that stupid thing, anyway.”

As he turns his attention ahead of him, Winry clutches his wrist, pulling his arm back. “What the hell is your problem?”

He clenches his teeth and yanks his arm out of her grasp. “I don’t have one. Why don’t your go back to your hick of a boyfriend and leave me alone.”

“What, are you jealous?”

“Of course no—

“Because I’m not the one who kissed me and then avoided me for two days!”

So he had hurt her feelings.

What a dumb thing to think, believing he could get out of the situation without hurting her. He really is foolish.

He fills his lungs, doing his best to ignore the stench in the air, and breathes out slowly. He turns to face her, brow furrowed. He isn’t surprised to see just how angry she is.

“All you ever gave me was a small acknowledgment, and that was only when you ran in to me.” Her arms loosen around the stuffed bear. Its head flops forward a smidge. “I figured you regretted kissing me, but, then you insisted on playing that stupid game just to win me this toy…” Their eyes meet, and Edward can see just how much he’s hurt her. “I’m confused, Ed. You never talk about your feelings, you just act. And right now, you’re acting like a dick.”

He deserved to be called every name in the book, but Winry would never do it. She was right—he was acting like a dick, and why? Because he was worried she may not return his feelings for her? Because he couldn’t bear to be in the same house after embarrassing himself? He hadn’t even been sure that she’d kissed him back. It was more of a peck than anything, and she had’t said a word once he’d pulled away.

He sneers. It infuriates him how well she knows him, how she knows exactly what buttons to press to elicit a reaction. “Why does it even matter? You’re having a good time. Why not just let me leave?”

The plush bear falls to the dirt as Winry throws her arms in the air. She groans into the night. “Geez, how stupid can one man be!?”

If it’s meant to hurt him, he barely feels it.

She places her palm against her chest. “Did it ever occur to you that I was trying to make you jealous?”

They remain there, glaring at one another as Winry’s words settle in the air. Edward’s brain works overtime to process them—he blinks, the anger on his face slowly fading as the realization settles. The anger he felt lingers, dancing in the pit of his stomach with his jealousy. Annoyance bubbles its way up his throat, leaving the taste of bile on his tongue. She couldn’t be serious.

“That’s a low blow, Winry.” His words are soft, barely audible above the sounds of the festival.

“Is it?” Her hands ball into fists at her sides. “Because I think it’s pretty on par with your behavior these past few days.”

He grits his teeth and reaches for the plush bear’s ear, lifting it forcefully off of the ground. “Don’t worry, I’ll put this in your room for you so you can go dance with Benjamin.” He turns on his heel, oversized plush dragging on the ground as he continues down his earlier path.

He makes it only three feet when Winry’s words stop him. “What is it going to take to get you to talk about the other night?”

The other night; the kiss, she means. What did it mean? Why had it happened? Why had he avoided her afterward? He swallows and lowers his head, keeping his back to her. Maybe it would be easier to discuss if he couldn’t see her face…

“I kissed you,” he answers, “and then I went to bed.”

An exasperated sigh rushes from her lungs. “You’re so stubborn, you know that?”

He spins around, ponytail coming to rest against his shoulder. His bangs hit his face, hairs sticking out in disarray. His grip on the plus bear’s ear tightens, knuckles whitening. He clenches his jaw past the point of comfort, and scowls at his best friend. She thinks this is easy? He’d avoided her those two days because it was anything but.

His upper lip quivers until he can no longer take it. “I was afraid, dammit!”

His words echo across the river. He looks worriedly towards the festival grounds, seeking anyone who may be looking his way. He comes up empty, met only with Winry’s bright blue eyes.

He shoves his free hand into his pocket. His cheeks burn with embarrassment. He ducks his head to hide his face beneath his bangs. “I had no idea what you were thinking after I kissed you. For all I know, you didn’t even want it to happen. I couldn’t face you just for you to put me down easy. We live in the same damn house, Winry. I’d die of embarrassment.”

“God.”

Here it comes, he thinks, here comes her shooting me down.

It’s okay. Tonight has prepared him for this. If she wanted to be in the arms of another man, so be it. He’d move on. He’d have to.

“You really are dumb, aren’t you?” From behind his bangs, he watches her pinch the bridge of her nose. “It’s a wonder they let you become a state alchemist. Actually, scratch that.” She places her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes. “State alchemists don’t have to be smart with women, I forgot.”

He lifts his head, dumbfounded.

“Didn’t it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, I wanted you to kiss me?”

Actually, it hadn’t.

He shakes his head.

“Geez,” she grumbles. She closes the distance between them and plucks her plush bear from his fingers. She sets it down on a small grassy patch beside the path. “Here, come dance with me.”

“What?” But she’s already grabbing his hands, pulling the other out of his pocket. She leads him to the grass by the river bank. She places his hands on her hips, looping her arms around his neck. His heart rate picks up, drowning out the faint music from the festival. Winry sets the pace, swaying side-to-side to what he guesses is the beat of the music. He swallows the lump in his throat.

The moonlight reflects off of the water and illuminates her eyes; they’re a cloudless sky that Edward could easily lose himself in. “I’ve literally spelled it out for you, and you still don’t get it.” She shakes her head and smiles. “What am I going to do with you?”

He sways in time with her. He begins to hear the music over the beating of his heart—the strumming of a guitar, the beat of a drum, and the deep voice singing a song of a man that didn’t dance, but would for the woman he loved. He glances down at his hands upon her hips and turns a brighter shade of red. Winry places her index finger beneath his chin and guides his eyes back to hers.

“You really hurt my feelings when you avoided me.” Her voice, barely above a whisper, is drenched in sadness. “That morning, after you kissed me, I was hoping to talk to you. Granny and Al had no clue where you were, and you didn’t come back until later that evening. Do you know how awful I felt?”

He shakes his head, and she loops her arm back around his neck. Truth be told, he hadn’t put her feelings into consideration even once. He’d ran off that morning, visiting his mother’s (and, inadvertently, his father’s) grave, telling her just how stupid he was, how he’d made a fool of himself, how he’d destroyed a lifelong friendship because his feelings for her couldn’t be held back. He won’t tell this to Winry. Not now.

“I felt awful, Ed. I felt that you kissed me on some whim and grew to regret it.” Her fingers play with the hair at his neck. “No girl wants to feel like the guy who kissed her regrets doing it.”

The pair continue to sway to the beat of the music as Edward processes Winry’s words. He hangs on to each word, each syllable, analyzing their meaning. He’d hurt her, that much he knew, and he regrets it deeply. But he never could have imagined that she would believe he regretted kissing her.

“Is that why you decided to make me jealous?”

She nods stiffly. Clearly, that wasn’t her proudest moment. “You won me that stupid bear and I figured that you were finally going to talk to me about what happened. Instead, you ran away, again, so I went with Al. All I planned to do was wait for my turn to dance with Al, but Benjamin asked me go dance, and I saw you out there by yourself… I knew you could see the dance floor. I knew you would see us—that was my intention.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Ed rolls his eyes. “You were all over him.”

“Oh, Edward.” Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes. She struggles to stifle her laughter. “Benjamin is gay.”

Oh.

Now he feels like an even greater ass.

“You honestly think I’d willingly dance with someone just wanting to get in my pants?”

Well, yes. He had thought that, anyway.

He hangs his head and lets out a sound of annoyance. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Again, her arm untangles from behind his head, hand moving to cup his cheek. She guides his gaze back to her, a soft smile on her lips. He stares into her eyes, a fire burning in the pit of his stomach. A sense of urgency hits him like a ton of bricks—kiss her; make it right—but he’s lost himself in her beauty. His feet move automatically to the song, eyes drinking in every ounce of her. It isn’t often he sees Winry in a dress—she greatly prefers the comfort and protection of her coveralls while working, and can often be found lazing about in an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. Though, it was strange. She was always beautiful, even covered in grease. Perhaps he’s just never been this close. The last time he’d felt this way was two nights ago, outside of her bedroom, their actions masked by the dark. He swallows.

The hair at his neck twirls easily around her fingers. He yearns for her to run them through his hair, to touch him in ways no one has ever touched him before. His eyes close as he begins to dream.

Winry let’s a content sigh out through her nose. She pulls his head down until their foreheads touch. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Mm, get what?”

He feels her gently shake her head. “That your fears were silly. I like you, dummy.”

His eyes open, met once more by a sea of blue and a warm smile. A faint blush dusts her cheeks. His heart skips a beat.

She lays a palm flat against the back of his neck, the other moving to rest above his heart. Their swaying comes to a natural halt, and Edward moves his right hand to cup her cheek. “I like you, too.”

Winry’s grin is instantaneous. “I think we’ve established that.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, guess so.”

His tongue peeks out to wet his lips. There’s an array of emotion within Winry’s eyes that drive him wild—excitement, joy, infatuation, and something deeper that he can’t quite place. He leans forward and tilts his head, closing his eyes as their lips meet. An electric current runs between them with nowhere to go. Winry’s pulls Ed closer towards her, Ed’s hand on her hip grips the fabric of her dress tighter. Their lips move awkwardly, both lacking any form of experience. His teeth clack clumsily against hers, her lips move too quickly at one point, and his tongue shyly enters her mouth without a clue of what to do. They are intoxicating one another, freely conveying years of pent up emotions for one another with their mouths. In the distance, the band stops playing. The only sounds they hear are their lips, their breathing, and the crickets hiding amongst them.

[vonlipvig]

Fodder vs. Freelancers - Finale (Part 2)

(If you’re looking for past episodes, just check the “Survivor RvB” tag in my blog!)

Quick recap! The game got real intense last time after Church won immunity, putting Simmons, Donut and Doc in danger. All seemed to be lost for Donut, the outcast, but miraculously, there was a tie between him and Simmons, thanks to Doc voting with Donut! And then ANOTHER tie, which led to a tiebreaker challenge. In the end, Donut ended up victorious, and we had to say goodbye to Simmons. 

After many, many eliminations, we’re finally here. The game started as a fierce battle between Fodder and Freelancers, but now there’s only the 3 that survived it all. Church. Doc. And Donut. Each played a different game, with their strenghts and weaknesses, but each one managed to achieve what all the other failed to do, and that is get to the Final 3.

The simulation doesn’t do this, but I’d like to explain a bit what really happens in a Survivor game here, because it’s such a lovely moment of the show. Once the three castaways wake up, they’re greeted by a congratulations message and lots of food to celebrate their accomplishment. But there’s also one more thing to do before the last immunity challenge, and that’s the Rites of Passage. This is a little ritual done to remember all the competitors who didn’t make it, with the F3 thanking them for taking part in their journey. The F3 walk towards torches which have their fallen friends’ nametags and reminisce about their time together (Imagine them remembering Kai, the first one eliminated, and how she made the camp a little bit brighter, even if it was for a short time. Or them remembering Tex, which manages to get some tears out of Church’s eyes. Or Simmons, their friend who made it so far...). At the end of the journey, they gather all the torches and nametags and burn them, finally closing the Rites of Passage.

And, with that done, it’s finally time. This is where champions are made. It’s time for the final immunity challenge. Whoever wins this gets to decide who goes home and who sits beside them in FTC. Boys, best of luck to all.

And it’s Doc, with his zen attitude and incredible concentration, that manages to snatch the most important immunity win of all! You can say he has coasted along during the game, but he won what needed to be won, and there’s no denying he deserves his spot in the F2.

But with great power comes great responsibility. Now it’s up to Doc--and only him--to decide who gets the chance at the million dollars. Does he take his friend Donut, who he cares about, but will certainly get votes with the Jury due to his great performance? Or will he pick Church, who was in his alliance, and who has probably pissed off some people in the Jury?

Doc, I wouldn’t wanna be in your shoes right now. Or I do, I guess, you have a 50/50 chance at a million dollars! But this decision right here...this could be a million dollar mistake...

HOLY FREAKING SHIT. HE HAS SPOKEN. The eighteenth person voted off Survivor Blood Gulch is Church. Doc has voted against his alliance member (well, that alliance was done anyway), and has chosen to keep Donut around. That could be a good move or a disastrous move. On one hand, he shows the jury he’s not going to sacrifice his best friend and bring someone like Church to the Final, who he can win against easily. But on the other hand, Donut is a power player, and the Jury will certainly reward that. 

I honestly have NO idea how this is going to go. BUT OH MY GOD, WE HAVE DOCNUT IN THE FINAL TWO. THIS SIMULATIONS LOVES ME.

So Doc and Donut get to spend their last night in the island, together and happy that they’ve made it as far as they could. But the game’s not over, and now they have to face the Jury, who will eventually decide who gets to keep the million dollars. That means that, in Final Tribal Council, Doc and Donut will each get an opening statement, explaining why they should win the game, and then each Jury member will be able to ask any of them, or both, a question. Then a final statement can be issued, and then it’s up to the Jury to vote for who they think deserves the prize.

So imagine that. Doc and Donut sitting down facing Tex, York, Carolina, Wash, Caboose, Sarge, Simmons and Church (people who they’ve had a hand in voting off), and trying to convince them to give them money. I can also imagine the kinds of questions the Jury would ask. Church would ask a very loaded, angry question, maybe asking them if they truly think they deserve to be there when other, more deserving people (cough him cough) are sitting right there, and Caboose may ask...idk, for them to pick a random number, that stuff happens for real.

The thing is that all is ready, now it’s the Jury’s time to vote, and all Doc and Donut can do is hope for the best...

BUT, THE VOTES ARE NOT REVEALED RIGHT NOW, YOU HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL THE REUNION EPISODE!

...But this is not TV, so we’re doing it right now. Just imagine that now everyone is clean and washed up and at a live studio in NYC. The pressure is on. 

So, yeah. Doc, Donut, tonight you wanna see your name on the votes. Tonight is the night. 

And the winner of Survivor Blood Gulch: Fodder vs. Freelancers is...

~ DONUT! ~

We have a winner! The man, the lightish red legend, it’s Franklin Delano Donut, who’s beaten the odds and done the impossible to get here! And by a 7-1 vote, almost an unanimous decision! How did the Jury vote, then?

Tex was the only one to vote for Doc, as she thought he had a more balanced game.

York, Carolina, Caboose, Simmons and Church all voted for Donut because they thought he deserved it after winning so many immunity challenges.

Wash voted for Donut because they had a strong relationship.

And Sarge voted for Donut because he liked him much more than Doc.

But that’s not all! We still have to give the award to the Fan Favorite! Drumrolls please...

THE WINNER IS CABOOSE! Guys, I swear to GOD I didn’t pick it myself, the simulation just did that, but I was THINKING IT. I bet he was such a fun, lovable character during the season, so yes, well deserved, Caboose!

And that’s the show! I can imagine Donut smiling with joy and bursting into happy tears, Doc hugging him and being tremendously happy about him winning because c’mon, he totally deserved it (and you can bet in the Reunion Doc’s gonna get asked if he regrets not picking Church over Donut, but no, he really doesn’t!), and everyone getting together and having a damn good time after all the excitement of the season...

And with that, we’ve reached the end of this wonderful, crazy journey. I still can’t believe how accurate this simulation ended up being, with all its flaws and problems, of course. It was such a joy for me to share this with you guys, and a BIG BIG million dollar thanks to everyone that liked, read and reblogged my silly posts. I do this because I’m a total Survivor nerd, but seeing other people enjoy it makes me so unbelievably happy. Of course, I encourage you all to try a simulation for yourself, either a Survivor one, or from any other reality show! (Please, someone do an America’s Next Top Model one, PLEASE), because they sure are fun.

Here are some statistics, if you’re into that! Judge for yourself!

And with that, this has been Survivor Blood Gulch: Fodder vs. Freelancers! Until next time!

Beginning

[lokaneiscanon]

Mighty Thor in Thor: Love and Thunder rant

Seeing Natalie Portman returning to reprise her role as Jane Foster, nevertheless wielding Mjolnir, finally getting the treatment this character deserves, was surreal to say the least. I had just started reading Lords of Midgard, the 8th issue of Mighty Thor (2015 - 2018), and had fallen in love already. But I didn't suspect at all that Taika Waititi would pull this card in Thor: Love and Thunder, considering Jane was barely mentioned in Ragnarok. The news about my favorite actress portraying one of my favorite characters coming out of the blue - you can imagine the excitement. Alas, I quickly remembered what the fandom thought of that comic (at least on tumblr) and imagined it now growing tenfold, cuz not everyone in the MCU fandom reads comics but pretty much everyone wants to watch another Thor movie. And yes, many fans weren't ready for this step, still recovering from Sam Wilson getting the shield in Endgame. Which is completely fine. We're not obligated to like everything Marvel throws in our faces, we're allowed to criticize and express our opinion on the internet or wherever. What is not okay is mindlessly hating, and even worse - using false facts to support said opinion.

I have seen some people using the argument that it is one of Marvel's worst selling comics. Which has already been proven wrong by multiple sites, including Comichron, just Google it, as I did myself. I read multiple posts, ones saying how good Jane is doing as Thor in sales, others disproving this, so I checked for myself the numbers at the site mentioned above month by month to be sure. The comic truly had its downfalls as the story progressed but in my opinion it's normal for the 1st issue to have more sales than the 21st. If we compare it to Unworthy Thor, which started running a bit later and followed the now unworthy Odinson, the data shows the latter had more sales. But then again, while Might Thor was at its 17th issue, Unworthy Thor was at its 2nd. Also, they later crossed paths, shared comic issues, it's fair to say they go hand in hand and Jason Aaron, the author, probably doesn't want us to compare them, as they complete and compliment each other's stories. Still I decided to check the comic that made Thor unworthy in the first place - Thor: God of Thunder (2012 - 2014), which seemed to me more "comparable" to Might Thor (2015 - 2018). *I keep putting the years it was being released so as to not be confused with previous Mighty Thor issues, whole Odinson was still Thor, please bear with me* So yes, the numbers were pretty close, but from what I saw, Mighty Thor had the upper hand if we compare first issue to first issue and so on. (In defense of Odinson, we have to take into account that this data is only from the US and does not include digital sales. Also, he's been around since the 50s. We could argue Jane was a breath of fresh air that some Marvel fans were indeed ready for. As a non-American, and also a person without a hint of knowledge in economics I cannot take into account inflation and whatever else has prevented or enabled Americans to get their hands on the comics or has affected prizes through the years. Bear that in mind.) Moreover, from what I saw on Comichron, both comics had much competition - God of thunder was released along with Avengers vs the X-men, the Uncanny X-men, pretty popular at the time, and the Goddess of Thunder faced Civil War 2 and DC Universe Rebirth (yes, DC is in the game too), also dominating with tremendous sales for the longest time. Yet I stick with my original statement - both Thors are valid and shouldn't be put against one another regardless of profit. Because at the end of the day what will matter the most is the story. And boy, what a story it is.

Now, I haven't read the Thor: God of Thunder, but as I was doing research I found one very well written summary and explanation of Thor's arc and his becoming unworthy and I will post a link below, because I honestly feel I wouldn't be doing this comic a favor by describing it without having read it. Which I plan to do in the future, tbh. It's a fantastic prelude to the Mighty Thor (2015 - 2018) that I've come to love. First, I'd like to ask you all to stop hating on the comic without having read it first. It doesn't make any sense and being petty for the sake of being petty won't benefit neither you, nor anyone, really. Now, about the comic itself - the art is magnificent. It's just gorgeous. Mighty Thor isn't , thank all the gods, sexualized, she is pretty buffed and generally looks like a warrior. As it is with the other characters, I dare say. The background truly captures the essence of every world Jane finds herself on. Action scenes are just the right amount and balanced with dialogue well. On a side note, it's pretty funny to read/listen to in your head the Shakespearean English cursive in which Jane talks as Thor. The plot line branches beyond this comic, starting from Thor: God of Thunder and leading to the War of Realms. And it is elaborately built in every issue. You don't know what to expect, yet it makes sense when it happens. Which leads me to the characterizations. My God, what a treat Loki is in this. Clearly, my opinion is kinda biased, since he's my favorite character, but you never know which side he's on. What his motivations are. And it just feels so... Loki. His writing is brilliant. Almost makes me forget what the MCU did to him. Also, he gets some daddy time with Laufey (not as kinky as I make it sound). Frigga/Freyja is just as awesome as in the MCU, even more, at least in the comics she calls Odin out on his shit, who btw is I guess an asshole in every version and universe. Malekith, the main villain, is unbearably despicable, I want to tear every page he is on. He really was mishandled in the Dark World, if you want some true action with the dark elves, you are welcome to enjoy. I saved the best for the end - Jane Foster/ Might Thor. Now, if you think Dr. Foster spends her time boasting about her worthiness and how Odinson is just called Thor, but she is Mighty Thor, you are horribly wrong. She just... does her job. Because the hammer chose her. Because there's no one else to do so. That's it. If you think there's some feminism involved, yes, there sure is, but it certainly isn't the reason Jane became Thor in the first place. It was not the creators going SJW because it's trendy, as such a mindset is honestly offensive to any descent creator with any self respect, but a well thought out story arc, which, I repeat, you have to read the comic to understand. Jane is not at all whiny about the hate she gets in-universe, not only from foes like Odin and who-not, but from Shield and generally people whose asses she's saving. Her having cancer is not something they pulled to provoke sympathy and make her look like a victim - on the contrary, she is a damn hero and a victor. I don't want to give out spoilers, but her being Thor is actually a giant sacrifice that no one really appreciates (both in-universe and in the fandom). She is not Thor to prove she can be, or just to prove "women can be heroes" - she doesn't have to. She is simply needed by the realms and so she does her job, even though she is called a thief, persecuted and generally hated. All that matters is that the hammer finds her worthy - the beauty and simplicity of that fact you will find out, for the last time, if you read the comic.

I'm not making you read the comic or watch Thor: Love and Thunder. I myself don't know what to make of this film yet because there's barely any information about it. I only know it will be based on the comic so that's a reason for my hopes to be up already. On the other hand, since I didn't like Loki's characterization in Ragnarok, I'm not sure what to expect from Taika. There are valid reasons to not like the idea of Jane returning to the MCU as Thor, which you are entitled to. However, reasons such as "why does everything have to be political these days" are not. Because if I had to make a list of everything politically related in the MCU, it would take forever. Steve Rogers kills nazis is the most blatant example. Make of it what you want. But I think we're far enough into the 21st century to realize art and real life are not that separable. It's undeniable that art affects people and that is to say, people everywhere. And they all have different opinions and aren't gonna like everything media is offering to them. And I wish I could simply tell you not to watch the movie but I'm a Marvel fan too and I understand that I can't just take away Thor from you because I want Mighty Thor as well. But none of us can stop Marvel from producing it. So, to quote an image I saw recently, I don't know how to explain to you that you should care about other people. Let the rest of the fandom enjoy what they want to enjoy. Yes, ik I can play around with the tags and avoid posts that unnerve me but, for example, I'm looking up Mighty Thor fanart, which obviously isn't anti-Mighty Thor, yet I get attacked in the comics for anticipating a movie that doesn't even have a full cast yet. Ik I'm not asking for too much when I wish to get the same internet experience (not only tumblr, but also insta, YouTube, Twitter, any site) as the Thor Odison fans, for example. I'm aware I cannot stop all the toxic fans and the trolls but I hope this post has inspired those of you who simply can't envision Jane as Thor, or don't like Natalie Portman in the role, or whatever eles personal preference that doesn't involve political issues and isn't harmful to the community, not to attack every post on your dash with hate. The movie is called LOVE and Thunder, for God's sake. (on a side note, is a franchise that is too afraid to show LGBT characters for more than 1 minute so as to not lose profit from China, THAT politically correct)

Anyway, that was a veeeery long rant, sorry to whoever reads this but, like, please, I put effort into this, hoping this time around I won't be the only positive reviewer of a movie, like I was with Solo: a Star Wars story (yes, I'm still bitter about this), which was boycotted for no apparent reason but was a decent film in reality, and I'm only bringing it up because it has a similar experience to Love and Thunder for getting hate before even being released. I'm not defending a billion dollar company that flopped in box office once, I'm defending the viewer's right to media they are interested in. If you don't like the character, remember - that's your opinion, not a fact that the character sucks. Kudos.

Not very easy to navigate, I advice you to do the research month by month individually for comics you'd like to compare. Also, if you happen to find more reliable data, pls say so in the comments.

Here you have the summary and explanation of the greatness of Thor: God of Thunder, Jesus, I'll go bankrupt if I buy this one too.

Yes, I want to end the sales dispute once and for all, I'm tired of seeing it on my dash. This guy probably explains it better than I did.

@awesomejenlawrence you said you'd like to read this and I delivered