#where's the fucking 'freedom convoy' now????

[pennelopiad]

This fuckbag of a provincial government has effectively removed our right to collective bargaining, a constitutional right stated in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, and is consciously keeping our lowest paid education workers at or below the poverty line. This is what happens when people don't fucking vote.

[lhazaar]

it’s hard to describe how viscerally disappointing it is to see ostensible leftists abandoning personal masking under the guise of “well individual action means nothing without collective action”. and by disappointing i mean that people pushing this should be deeply, deeply ashamed of this “take”. i don’t know how to make you understand that an airborne pandemic disabling and killing millions is not the same thing as the american political system. masking is not the voting democrat of outbreak control. my work takes me into seniors’ homes and sometimes care homes; we’re required to be masked because the unfiltered air from our lungs can fucking kill the people we’re supposed to be taking care of. i’ve had covid twice despite this, because people in my family were convinced not to mask by peer pressure, and it has further fucked up my life and made my disabilities worse. i live in constant fear that it will kill my parents, including my immunocompromised mother who works in a school. if you’ve been basing your masking decisions on what feels Politically Appropriate at this point in our collective living with covid, i’m at a loss for how else to make you understand the direct, individual, material impact on people’s lives. yes your theory is so so very informed by marxism or whatever, now do you actually care about people one on one? as human beings? where the potential for harm exists and can be SO easily mitigated? what is the material difference between you and one of the freedom convoy dipshits yawing about how it’s your Personal Freedom to Choose What To Do when it comes to the viral load you exhale into the air

[shinra-makonoid]

Lol are you watching the Freedom Convoy court tapping for the class action lawsuit against them? Is fucking gold! The organizers are throwing eachother under the bus over whi told who to commit crimes and fraud, GoFundMe proved they took the campaigns down because they failed to provide proof and necessary papers of where and how the money was gonna be spent and not because the government told them to plus apparently one of the organizers slipped and said "they are taking away my daughter tuition money!" but tried to take it back real quick, one of the organizers recorded videos saying native culture is disgusting, white people have stronger bloodlines, that if needed he would shoot cops and he thought "it's kinda funny people haven't slept for 10 days" because they were honking and disturbing everyday citizens, one of the organizers was pretending to be native and one of them is a Qanon grandpa that said God told him to start the convoy after he got baptised.

L M FUCKING A O now Trudeau has the fair excuse that he didn't speak to them because they were fraudsters at best and proto-terrorist at worst.

I didn't watch it. Honestly it doesn't surprise me the least lmao

It's a mess. Any time those people try to do something, you end up realizing it's a scam or some shit like that.

Do you have a link to the court video? I'm interested now.

[nikkoliferous]

Phase One: Avengers (Part One)

With everything being about the LOKI series right now and me dreading it, I figured I'd distract myself by finally posting my thoughts on the Phase One: Avengers novel, which I seem to recall somehow being way worse than the Thor novel? I'm not completely convinced this thing wasn't ghostwritten by Taika Waititi; that's all I'm saying. Anyways, here we go.

(Quick note: please be aware that this overview is significantly Thor-critical. If that sort of thing bothers you, I do not recommend proceeding. You've been warned. Lol)

Let's start off with a friendly reminder that SHIELD had four hours to evacuate before Loki showed up, shall we?

Dr. Selvig read an energy surge from the Tesseract four hours ago,” Coulson was saying.

“I didn’t approve going to testing,” Fury said.

Coulson nodded. “He wasn’t testing it. He wasn’t even in the room. Spontaneous event.”

So either they're grossly incompetent or grossly negligent, but either way those deaths are on them at least as much as they're on Loki. If not more so.

“It just turned itself on?” Hill sounded skeptical. Fury, as usual, was less interested in how they’d gotten there than in what they were going to do next.

[...]

Selvig acknowledged him briefly and then returned his attention to the monitoring equipment. “Director, the Tesseract is misbehaving.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“No, it’s not funny at all. The Tesseract is not only active, she’s… behaving.”

Fury didn’t comment on the doctor characterizing the Tesseract as female. He also wasn’t interested in Selvig’s notions about its personality. It didn’t have a personality. It was a cube containing energy, and all Nick Fury wanted was to know how to control that energy. “I assume you pulled the plug.”

Fury having no intellectual curiosity explains a lot, tbh. Like how he thinks Loki "kills because it's fun", even though nothing about their prior interaction indicates that. Like, at all. Loki killed only the agents who were attacking him. Because he felt threatened. If he indeed killed for the fun of it, he would have taken them all out and been done with it. Doing so would have both entertained him and made for a much smoother getaway.

“She’s an energy source. We turn off the power, she turns it back on. If she reaches peak level—”

“We prepared for this, Doctor. Harnessing energy from space.”

“We’re not ready. My calculations are far from complete. And she’s throwing off interference radiation.”

Fury watched the Tesseract in its circular containment shell. Eight separate energy sensors built into a frame supporting that shell were designed to measure and conduct that energy. Those sensors in turn rested on stainless-steel support scaffolding. The whole setup sprouted cables and conduits. These were there to supply energy to the Tesseract in a controlled fashion so Dr. Selvig could analyze its reactions. Now they were all shut down, as Dr. Selvig had said, but even so, the Tesseract glowed with a fierce blue energy. It was starting to spill onto the sensors, arcing like electricity. But it wasn’t electricity. It was something much more exotic.

I also find it curious/amusing/something that Fury later accuses Loki of "stealing a force [he] can't hope to control". YOU'RE DESCRIBING YOURSELF, NICK. YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CAN'T CONTROL IT AND HAS BEEN ARROGANTLY PRETENDING YOU CAN.

The man looked up at them and smiled as he stood. He was not a large man, not remarkable in any particular way. He had long black hair and wore black leather clothing, similar to what Fury was wearing. However, he wasn’t a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Fury didn’t know where he had come from.

I beg to fucking differ lmao

Fury had the Tesseract in a steel carrying case and was taking a step toward the door when the stranger turned to him and said, “Please don’t. I still need that.”

Kudos to Loki for not forgetting his princely manners even while completely off his rocker. Lol

“This doesn’t have to get any messier,” Fury said. He glanced quickly around, trying to figure the fastest way out.

“Of course it does,” the stranger said. “I’ve come too far for anything else.”

TELL US WHAT YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH, LOKI. INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW.

“Loki?” Dr. Selvig said. He stood up from helping one of his fellow doctors, who was barely conscious. “Brother of Thor?”

“We have no quarrel with your people,” Fury said.

Loki acknowledged Selvig and then returned his attention to Fury.

By "acknowledged", the author means he rolled his eyes so hard he saw his own brain lmao

“I come with glad tidings,” Loki said. “Of a world made free.”

“Free from what?” Fury asked.

Turning back to him, Loki said simply, “Freedom. Freedom is life’s great lie. Once you accept that in your heart…” As he spoke the word “heart,” he turned and touched Selvig’s chest with the tip of his scepter, just as he had with Hawkeye. Selvig gasped, and the same change came over his face that Fury had seen in Hawkeye’s. “You will know peace.”

He's not simply deranged, you know. For Loki, this is actually true. He has never been free in his entire life, and won't be at any point after this either. Yes, there was also the torture and the mind control at play, but even underneath all that, is it any wonder he was vulnerable to the Thanos cult's brainwashing?

Hawkeye had been looking around the complex. Now he stepped up to Loki. “Sir, Director Fury is stalling. This place is about to blow and drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us.”

Loki looked back at Fury, who said, “Like the pharaohs of old.”

“He’s right, the portal is collapsing in on itself!” Selvig called out from the monitors. “We’ve got maybe two minutes before this goes critical.”

Friendly reminder, once again, that Loki wasn't even aware the PEGASUS facility was on the verge of collapsing—let alone the cause of it.

“Well then,” Loki said. He glanced over at Hawkeye.

Without a word, Hawkeye drew his gun and shot Nick Fury once, dead center in the chest.

Two things:

1) Every time I see this scene in gifs, all I can think of is, "Pull the lever, Kronk." 🤣

2) So how does the direct mind control of the sceptre work anyway? Because Loki never actually gives Barton a command here. So does he sometimes communicate with his minions telepathically (sort of like The Other does with him), or does Barton just intuit his intent here, or what?

Maria Hill saw Hawkeye come out of the lab into the garage with Selvig, a liaison officer, and a stranger carrying a spear. He looked more like one of the people they’d been recruiting into the Avengers Initiative than an ordinary technician or S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. “Who's that?” she asked.

*sigh* In a just MCU, this would have been foreshadowing.

She jumped into a jeep and headed after them. Other S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles followed, filled with agents. They roared along the underground access road that led up to the surface in the New Mexico desert. She was gaining on them and firing as she drove. Sooner or later, she’d be close enough to have a good shot at the stranger.

He had other ideas, though. When he saw the pursuing convoy get too close, he pointed his scepter at them. The tip of it flared bright blue, and a bolt of energy lashed out from it, striking the vehicle in front of Hill and shattering the right side of its passenger compartment. The vehicle slewed around and flipped, rolling and landing sideways across the road. They were blocked.

Interesting of Loki to go for the passenger compartment instead of the driver. Was anyone even sitting there? Just one more example in a long string of Loki being inexplicably merciful to his enemies, I guess. 🤷

They got around ahead of the truck, and Fury leaned out of the helicopter’s side door. He fired, emptying his clip. He could tell from the sparks that some of the bullets had hit, but he was too far away to see if they’d done any damage.

His real target was Loki, but he was protected by the cab of the truck. Fury couldn’t get a good shot at him.

Did Fury already forget that Loki is bulletproof, or...? I mean, I guess that's fair. Earlier, Hawkeye goes to draw his sidearm only minutes after the narration points out that the bullets already fired at Loki had bounced away harmlessly.

Leaning over the truck’s roof and keeping low, however, Loki could get a good shot at the helicopter. A blue bolt lanced out and struck the helicopter’s rotor assembly. All the control mechanisms went haywire, and the helicopter spiraled down out of the sky. The truck drove underneath them as they were about to crash, close enough that Fury could see the gloating expression on Loki’s face.

Haha, good for him.

“Coulson, you know that Stark trusts me about as far as he can throw me,” she said.

“Oh, I’ve got Stark,” Coulson said. “You’ve got the big guy.”

Oh, Natasha thought. That big guy. She said something in Russian. It wasn’t polite.

This has nothing to do with Loki. It just made me laugh.

Nick Fury had called an emergency meeting of the World Security Council. They needed to know what had happened with the Tesseract, and they needed to know what he planned to do about it. He brought up holographic images of all the WSC members, with their faces and locations hidden. He did not know who they were, but S.H.I.E.L.D. reported to them.

Well, that doesn't sound problematic at all, does it?

“The Avengers Initiative was shut down.”

“This isn’t about the Avengers.” That wasn’t strictly true, but Nick Fury was no idiot. He wasn’t going to show all his cards to the World Security Council when he didn’t even know who they were.

I'm glad he at least recognizes the stupidity of working for people he doesn't know, but uh... debatable, otherwise. Lol

“This isn’t about personality profiles anymore,” Coulson said. He wasn’t giving up, and that irritated Tony even more than the fact he’d showed up right when the celebration of Stark Tower was supposed to be starting.

*cough*DIVA*cough*

Loki watched Dr. Erik Selvig work, preparing the Tesseract for the next phase of his plan. Technicians and soldiers scurried about on various errands. Loki did not know the details and did not care. They were beneath him. He had his eye solely on the greater prize. It was time to consult with the Chitauri and begin the next phase of the preparations.

Really? You expect me to believe that Loki, the master tactician with "a cunning mind far exceeding Thor and Odin’s", couldn't be bothered to know the details of his own plan? Um, how about no?

Deep space and a field of stars surrounded this rocky world. Pale blue lights glowed where the Chitauri had built their fortress. They gleamed in a set of stairs that climbed to the topmost tower. That was where Loki had made his bargain with the Chitauri: They would be his army and he would open a path to Earth for them. Once Earth was his, and Asgard as well, he would turn the Tesseract over to them.

At least that was what he had promised.

1) Who said anything about Asgard...?

2) Indicator that Loki never planned on actually turning over the Tesseract? I don't know why you'd include this line otherwise.

“Let them gird themselves,” he said. “I will lead them in glorious battle.”

“Battle?” the Chitauri warrior snorted. “Against the meager might of Earth?”

“Glorious,” Loki repeated. “Not lengthy. If your force is as formidable as you claim.”

He had intended to anger the Chitauri, and he had succeeded.

Personally, I saw this less as intending to anger and more as "Loki has no self-preservation instinct and literally cannot help himself". What's to be gained by intentionally pissing off The Other here?

“You don’t have the Tesseract yet.” The Chitauri leader rushed at Loki and stopped just short of him, claws raised. Loki did not move.

“I don’t threaten,” he said, though he was doing exactly that.

LOL

The Chitauri leader backed down but only a step. “You will have your war, Asgardian,” he growled. Then he too decided to make a threat. “If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain.”

Loki flashed back into his awareness of Earth. He took a deep breath. The Chitauri did not frighten him… but he would have been a fool if he had not possessed a healthy respect for their leader, the mad Titan known as Thanos. For it was Thanos who had given Loki the scepter, and Thanos who had rallied the Chitauri to Loki’s cause… and Thanos who wished to possess the Tesseract for his own monstrous ends. One did not bargain lightly with Thanos—and one certainly did not fail to meet the terms of such a bargain.

Love how this book just repeatedly glosses over the obvious fact that Loki was tortured. In the first chapter, it makes zero mention of his stumbling or other signs of being weakened. Here, it completely omits the pain WE ALL SAW The Other inflict on him. Fuck this narrator, seriously.

Steve had a moment to look around. The commanding officer appeared to be a woman with short dark hair reeling off orders from near the center of the bridge. “S.H.I.E.L.D. Emergency Protocol 193.6 in effect,” she was saying after a series of status orders and acknowledgments. Steve didn’t know what protocol that was. At the moment, all he knew was that he was on a flying aircraft carrier… and wasn’t that enough? Amazing.

[....]

The Helicarrier disappeared from view. From the inside, it didn’t look any different, but Steve saw monitors from satellite feeds, and on those, the Helicarrier had simply become invisible. He corrected himself: He wasn’t just on a flying aircraft carrier. He was on an invisible flying aircraft carrier. The future was pretty… cool, was the word everyone used now.

I'm not the biggest Steve fan, but I will admit to finding his childlike awe over the Helicarrier slightly adorable. Lol

Side note: is someone on this thing coordinating with Air Traffic Control? I... really hope so.

“What did it show you, Agent Barton?”

Barton turned to look at Loki. “My next target,” he said.

Loki nodded. “Tell me what you need.”

Barton took one his bows out of a case and snapped it into shape with a flick of his arm. “I need a distraction,” he said. “And a biometric ID.”

Why the change from "eyeball", I wonder? Seems random. Lol

Inside, Loki had been mingling with the crowd, taking on the appearance of an ordinary man with a walking stick. But as the president of the museum, one Doktor Heinrich Schäfer, began his welcoming speech, Loki decided it was time to make a dramatic entrance. He tapped the walking stick on the floor and it became his scepter. Immediately, to get the crowd’s attention, he aimed it at the nearest museum security guard and fired.

This... didn't happen?? At all??

Loki strode the rest of the way down the stairs and manhandled Schäfer over to a stone altar that was one of the museum’s prized ancient Norse relics. He slammed Schäfer onto his back, forcing a machine over his face. Schäfer cried out in pain and surprise as the machine shone blinding light into his face, holding his eyes open.

On the one hand, confirmation that Loki did not actually shred this dude's eye and he's probably fine. On the other hand, the author completely made up what just happened literally two sentences ago, so their credibility is a little suspect at the moment. Lol

A police car, alerted by the commotion, raced toward him. He blasted it with his scepter, and it spun out of control and crashed.

ACAB!

The crowd froze. Slowly the crowd knelt, and Loki reveled in their submission. “There,” he said. “Is this not simpler? Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.”

He's talking about himself here. We all get that, right?

An old man in the middle of the crowd stood. Loki paused in his speech to regard this individual. Around him, all the copies of himself also looked at this old man.

“Not to men like you,” the old man said.

“There are no men like me,” Loki said.

No lies detected.

But Loki was tougher than he looked. He struck back with the scepter, forcing Captain America to parry until Loki found an opening and slammed the butt of the scepter into Captain America’s midsection, knocking him down. Captain America threw the shield again, but this time Loki was ready. He knocked it aside. It fell ringing to the stones of the plaza, and Loki had the tip of the scepter against the back of Captain America’s neck before the soldier could get back to his feet.

Correction: If he'd actually been trying to win, he would have used the tip. (Narrator: he was not trying to win).

A sudden storm rose around the Quinjet. Natasha looked at the instrument panel. There’d been no warning of heavy weather. “Where’s this coming from?” she wondered out loud.

At first, she thought that Loki was responsible. But that didn’t appear to be the case. He looked more nervous than anyone else on the jet.

Loki has Thor-induced PTSD. Understandable, tbh.

Thor let Loki fall well before they got to the ground.

Because Thor is an asshole.

So hey, as long as we're here, let's review how each member of Loki's family responds to the realisation that he's survived his suicide attempt.

Thor- manhandles him, angrily demands to know where the Tesseract is

Odin- refuses to even use his name, implies he should have either slaughtered him as an infant or left him to die

Frigga- tells him not to make things worse (fucking rich coming from the woman who exacerbated his trauma immeasurably by thrusting the throne upon him when he was at his most vulnerable)

Wild, man. I wonder why Loki's convinced his family doesn't give a shit about him. They seem like such loving people to me.

“I remember a shadow,” Loki said bitterly. “Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss. I who was and should be king!”

Because you would have destroyed Asgard, Thor thought. Just to impress our father, you would have annihilated all the Nine Realms. “So you took the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights? No. The Earth is under my protection, Loki.”

1) Actually, he was trying to save Asgard... from a war that YOU started, numbnuts. He went about it all wrong because he was having a fucking mental breakdown, but at no stage did he even really endanger Asgard, let alone come close to destroying it.

2) Um, what? Where the fuck in Loki's plan was annihilating anything other than Jötunheim? I see Thor shares his friends' impressive conclusion-jumping skills. Not surprising.

3) Thor, I mean this truly and without reservation: go fuck yourself.

Loki chuckled. “And you’re doing a marvelous job with that. The humans slaughter each other in droves while you idly fret. I mean to rule them, and why should I not?”

He... has a point.

“You think yourself above them?”

“Well, yes.”

At least Loki is honest about his condescension, Thor. You should try it sometime.

Suddenly furious, Loki raged at Thor. “I’ve seen worlds you’ve never known about! I have grown, Odinson, in my exile. I have seen the true power of the Tesseract, and when I wield it—”

“Who showed you this power?” Thor interrupted. “Who controls the would-be king?”

And he will never bring this up again. Ever.

Stepping right up to his brother, Thor shouted back. “Not here! You give up the Tesseract! You give up this poisonous dream!” Then he softened. “You come home.”

“I don’t have it,” Loki said. Furious, Thor brought Mjolnir to his hand, ready for battle.

Thor's sort of a one-solution kind of guy, huh? Somebody help me out here, because he's "changed" but his first instinct when he's not getting his way is still to react with intimidation and violence. Funny how that works.

Tony braked and skidded to a halt as the Asgardian rolled away from him, tearing up trees and brush as he went. He got to his feet and extended a warning hand. “Do not touch me again,” he said.

Oh, what's the matter, Thor? Do you not like being manhandled? That's weird because you sure do seem to enjoy doing the manhandling. 😕

“If he gives up the cube, he’s all yours. Until then…” Tony’s faceplate clamped back down. “Stay out of the way.”

He turned to walk back to a place where he could make a clean takeoff. “Tourist,” he muttered.

That was the last straw, apparently, because the next thing Tony knew, the Asgardian’s hammer had hit him about as hard as he’d ever been hit in his life. The force of the blow carried him through the trunk of a tree and laid him out flat in the dirt.

Please note that Thor was not being attacked. He once again used offensive violence against someone who hurt his feelbads. "Changed", my rear.

“Then prove it,” Cap said. “Put that hammer down.”

“Uh, no, bad call,” Iron Man said. “He loves his hammer—”

The Asgardian interrupted Tony by smashing him out of the way with a backhand swing. “You want me to put the hammer down?” he roared, and leaped high into the air, bringing his hammer down toward Captain America.

And again—not in any immediate danger, simply reacting with violence to something that made him angry.

“Oh, I’ve heard. A mindless beast. Makes play he’s still a man. How desperate are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?”

“How desperate am I?” Fury echoed. He walked slowly over the catwalk to stand in front of Loki. “You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can’t hope to control. You talk about peace, but you kill because it’s fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did.”

This is called 'projection', kids. Projection, and making up stories about your enemies so they're easier to hate. Fury needs to show his work.

Loki knew he had been heard throughout the ship. He could hear the echoes of the speakers, and even if he had not, he always knew when people were listening to him. That was part of his power, to make them listen… and to make each of them hear something just a little different. Just what he wanted them to hear.

This doesn’t mean anything, does it??

Perhaps he was in a cage right now, but he had been in cages before. Not once had one been able to hold him for long.

This... has to be a reference to his time with the Black Order, right? There's certainly no basis for such a statement pre-2011.

Or the author is just on crack. That's very possible.

Thor took a step toward Bruce. “Have a care how you speak,” he warned. “Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard… and he is my brother.”

“He killed eighty people in two days,” Natasha pointed out.

Citation needed, please.

“Well, I promise a stress-free environment. No tension, no surprises…” As he spoke, Tony walked behind Bruce and gave him a little zap with an electrical instrument.

“Ow!” Bruce said.

Tony looked closely at him. “Nothing?” He’d been testing Bruce to see how well he controlled the Hulk. The little shock hadn’t provoked any kind of unusual reaction, which Tony seemed to find a little disappointing.

Ok, but what exactly was Tony's plan if Bruce had Hulked out here? lmao

“Steve,” Bruce said, “tell me none of this smells a little funky to you.”

Cap looked back and forth between the two scientists. Bruce could tell he was struggling with something… but he also wasn’t going to share it. He was too much of a good soldier for that.

🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

“Yeah. I’ll read all about it.”

“Or you’ll be suiting up with the rest of us.”

Bruce shook his head with a regretful smile. “No, see, I don’t get a suit of armor. I’m exposed. Like a nerve. It’s a nightmare.”

Bruce has BPD. Lol

No, you guys don't understand. That's literally what it feels like.

Thor watched over Coulson’s shoulder as the agent showed him S.H.I.E.L.D.’s current files on Jane Foster. When he had learned that Loki had captured Erik Selvig, his first thought had been of Jane. Thor had destroyed the Bifrost to save the Nine Realms, but he had also cut himself off from her… or so he had thought. It was a terrible decision to make, sacrificing love for duty—yet Thor had done it. If necessary, he would do it again. He hoped it would not be necessary, though, and that was one reason why he had asked Coulson about Jane.

Oh my god, Thor. You spent like, three days with her, max. And people call Loki the dramatic one...

Thor looked out into the sky, gathering his thoughts. “When I first came to Earth,” he went on, “Loki’s rage followed me here, and your people paid the price. Now, again. In my youth, I courted war.”

“War hasn’t started yet,” Fury said.

1) Correction: when your daddy threw you to Earth like a sack of trash down a cosmic garbage chute. You were not here on vacation, bro.

2) No, Loki's rage followed your treasonous friends.

3) LAST YEAR. YOUR 'YOUTH' WAS LAST YEAR.

4) *committed mass murder over an insult

“You think you could make Loki tell us where the Tesseract is?”

This possibility hadn’t occurred to Thor. “I do not know,” he said. “Loki’s mind is far afield. It’s not just power he craves. It’s vengeance, upon me. There’s no pain that would pry that need from him.”

1) Opposing Thor = being crazy. Noted.

2) Not everything is about you, buddy. At the risk of repeating myself, this is the guy I'm supposed to believe learned humility? Really? Where?

3) Please note that Thor does not object to torturing Loki because it's immoral or because the thought of hurting Loki pains him. He objects because he doesn't believe it will work.

Thor held Fury’s gaze. It was not the first time he had looked at a one-eyed man who posed him a difficult question. “What are you asking me to do?” he asked, wanting Fury to be clear and to own his words.

“I’m asking what you are prepared to do,” Fury said quietly.

“Loki is a prisoner,” Thor said. He thought Fury was testing him, seeing if he would violate his ideals to find out something they all needed to know. But Thor would not.

"I'm okay with physically assaulting prisoners if they make me mad, but I suddenly draw the line at torture. Even though my 'ideals' didn't appear to be a concern two sentences ago."

If I feel like being generous to Thor, maybe he initially hoped Fury would back off if he just said torture wouldn't work, and then Thor wouldn't have to risk appearing... soft? Weak? I don't know.

“But you figured I’d come,” she said.

“After,” Loki said. “After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate.” It was a typical approach. Cause misery, and then let someone appear as a friendly face. The miserable person would say anything to keep this friend. Loki had seen strong men break this way, many times.

I'm not sure why the author felt the need to depersonalize this by talking about other men. Loki knows this experience intimately. It's what he's endured his entire life at the hands of his "loving" family. The torture just wasn't physical then as far as we know.

An interesting story, Loki thought. She has much to atone for. He could hear some of her memories, from before her first encounter with Barton. Little girl, he thought, you’ve done some very bad things. And now you think you owe Clint Barton your life… but there is more to it. Loki could tell there was something in her mind that he was not quite uncovering. He pushed a little more.

Is... is this text implying that Loki can read people's minds/memories even without touching them?

“Can you?” he asked. “Can you wipe out that much red?” He listed for her some of the things he knew she had done. “Dreykov’s daughter… São Paulo… the hospital fire? Barton told me everything.” This was a lie. Barton had told Loki certain things about Romanoff, but he was also guessing some others.

He... guessed the details of these very specific incidents? What? lmao

He pushed ahead. Now that he understood her, he could break her. “Your ledger is dripping, it’s gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? Pathetic. You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors, but they are part of you and they will never go away.”

He's talking about himself again. 🥺

For some reason, this book skips right over the part where Loki threatens both Barton's and Natasha's lives. Not sure why; the author clearly has no problem depicting Loki as an unhinged psychopath most of the time. Oh well, whatevs.

Loki couldn’t understand how she had gathered her composure so quickly—and then he did understand. She was a superb actress! Or not even an actress, for he could see through a conscious performance. She was something else. She had been broken down and remade so many times, with so many identities, that she could put them on and take them off at will. And Loki had gotten lost in those emotional costume changes.

He had been outwitted by a mortal. Unthinkable.

Yeah, phew, it's a good thing Natasha figured it out in time. Otherwise, something terrible might have happened—like Bruce Hulking out and rampaging through the Helicarrier. Oh, wait...

“I was wrong, Director,” Cap said. “The world hasn’t changed a bit.” He looked angry and disappointed. Captain America was a big believer in shooting straight and telling the truth. He didn’t like spies and he didn’t like lies, and now he saw he was knee-deep in both.

This novel's hero worship of Steve Rogers is going to kill me. 🙄

“I’d like to know why S.H.I.E.L.D. is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction,” Bruce finished.

“Because of him,” Fury said, pointing at Thor.

“Me?”

“Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town,” Fury said. “We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned.”

Has anyone figured out yet how this line doesn't conflict with Captain Marvel? Is Fury lying to hide her existence for some reason? Or is this just one of those things that we're supposed to shrug and pretend wasn't retconned?

“A nuclear deterrent,” Tony said. “Because that always calms everything right down.”

“Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark,” Fury said coldly.

On the one hand, yes, good point. But on the other hand, he... stopped making them? So clearly, he no longer thinks they are a good thing?

And also, not to gloss over his past sins, but wasn't Tony born rich? Lol

“I thought humans were more evolved than this,” Thor commented.

Tony turned on Thor. “Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?”

Didn't Fury say this in the movie? Why did the author give the line to Tony instead? There are all these... weird changes in the story that are so minor I have no idea why the author made them. Very confusing.

Just like that, all of them were arguing. Cap and Tony were nose to nose, while Bruce and Natasha fired remarks back and forth. Thor stood off to the side, contempt plain on his face.

'Cause he also thinks he's superior to humans. 🙃

Tony and Cap squared off over an argument that they couldn’t even remember starting. Tony was still mad about the last thing Cap had said to him… whatever it was.

In case there was any doubt about the sceptre being the reason everyone starts losing their shit with one another.

Cap stood his ground. “Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?”

Tony had an answer ready for this one. “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

Hey Steve? You know he invented the suit, right? Like. The suit is literally him.

“Put on the suit,” Cap said. “Let’s go a few rounds.”

Steve putting out big Joe Biden, "listen, fat..." energy here lmao

Thor laughed. “You people are so petty… and tiny.”

Thor, my dude. You literally started a war over being emasculated in front of your friends. I don't think you get to judge other people for being petty.

Fury could see things were spiraling out of control. He started trying to get them all back on track. “Agent Romanoff,” he said, “would you escort Dr. Banner back to—”

“Where?” Bruce interrupted. “My room? You rented my room.”

Nobody had said it out loud, but they all knew the cell currently holding Loki was designed for the Hulk.

What was their plan for containing the Hulk if necessary after sticking Loki in his cage, anyway? Did they even have one?

“Dr. Banner,” Cap said. “Put down the scepter.”

Bruce looked down. He hadn’t even known he’d picked it up.

Why does that sound familiar...?

Even though he could see what was going on, the hostility in the air was still thick enough that Bruce didn’t know whether he could back everyone down… or whether he could back himself down. He could feel tension rising inside him. He could feel the monster trying to get loose.

And yet none of them so much as considers the idea that the sceptre might be having a similar effect on Loki? Ok then.

But even though he was now refocused on the mission, the others still bickered. Loki had gotten into their heads, sowing discord and setting them against each other.

lmao I'd just like to note that Loki didn't actually do anything. This was all them and the effects of just being near the sceptre. #ThanksLoki

“The Tesseract belongs to Asgard,” Thor said.

Why, though?

“I’ll go after it,” Tony said.

“No you don’t,” Cap said, stepping into his way. He wasn’t ready to forget the way Tony had insulted him.

Ok, first of all, you started it. But also, seriously, Steve, that's your number one priority right now? Earth's mightiest heroes, ladies and gentlemen... lol

I have apparently managed to hit the paragraph limit, so we'll return after this short break, I guess. 🙈

↪️ On to Part Two

[eldritchcryptids]

the whole continent of north america is strange to me

youve got me confused and invested in this situation now

ok let me try and sum this whole situation up really quickly for those confused AJDHSJ

basically, there's currently this protest in canada called "the freedom convoy" where a bunch of truckers (and conservatives) have decided to drive to canada's capital city in order to protest the vaccine mandate that was put in place (as well as other covid mandates)

they pretty much drove from west canada to the capital and while doing that raised over 7 MILLION FUCKING DOLLARS????

when they arrived in the capital, they ended up defacing the terry fox statue thats there. terry fox is a canadian hero who attempted to run across canada to raise awareness and money for cancer research after he had to had his leg amputated due to cancer when he was 18. (unfortunately, he ended up dying of cancer before he could finish his marathon and the statue was built in his honor)

so, tl;dr: antivax truckers defaced a statue of a canadian hero, whose whole campaign was him trying to raise money for cancer research

[thekingofwinterblog]

What was the original ending of attack on titan?

So, there has been a lot of talk about wheter the mess we got in AOT 139 was the original ending.

For one thing, we know at least one part of the story did change, as the orignal final page was reduced to a quick sidepanel you might easily miss.

and instead we got this as the final chapter.

Working from the assumption that the ending WAS fully changed from whatever he had planned, lets ask the question. What WAS the original ending for Attack on Titan.

And to that, im gonna turn to the story that the ending was Supposedly gonna take inspiration from.

That being, The Mist, a movie based on a story from Stephen King.

Now, spoilers for The Mist movie below.

The movie’s premise is that one day, suddenly and out of nowhere, a thick, heavy fog rolls into the east coast of america. No one knows where it came from, and we arent given clear answers about its origins. The mist is clearly supernatural in nature though, as monsters stalk through it, causing quite a bit of death and suffering for the main cast.

The entire movie is just about dealing with the aftermath of the mists appearance, as a family struggles to survive, and plenty of people just fucking lose it in the mists.

Lots of stuff happens, lots of deaths, but in the end, the family is driving in a car, until they have no gas left. they hear rather disturbing noises in the distance.

Now the family isnt completely defenceless. they have a gun. with 4 bullets.

Now, with everything that they have learned across the movie, its pretty clear that this is not going to be enough. they ARE going to be killed by these monsters.

So, rather than being painfully torn to shreds by the demonic invaders, the adults make a decision. They have a gun. they have the option of dying quickly instead. only one problem.

The gun only has 4 bullets, and there are 5 of them. meaning someone is going to have to do the deed, and then have to face the monsters alone.

in the end, the father does the deed.

He kills his wife, his son, and two others.

Not surprisingly, he does not react well at the aftermath.

He screams, cries, and jumps out of the car, tries to futilely kill himself in his grief with the now empty gun. slams his hands down on the car, stared hatefully, suicidally off in the distance, and yells “COME ON!” clearly, desperately wanting an end to this as quickly as possible.

However, he is not met by a monster. instead, reality ensues. The sight that greets him is a tank from the american army.

He just stares at it in horror, and, as the mist begins to clear, the army is followed by a more army troops. convoys of rescued civilians. Because of course, the army would actually react to this stuff. monsters are being killed, civilians are being rescued.

And the protagonist finally realises the reality of what just happened. 

He slaughtered his family and killed two more, for absolutely nothing. the movie ends with the MC just having a complete breakdown as he’s approached by soldiers who have no idea about any of what just happened.

Now, this was apparently the kinda ending that attack on titans creator wanted to give the series.

There are two ways to look at this, and two potential endings you could reach. 

either Eren wins and finishes the rumbling, or The alliance wins, and the aftermath is predictable.

Now, i know that a lot of people think the Eren wins ending was originally the ending, but frankly, i dont think so.

I think the original ending was supposed to be the Alliance actually defeating Eren... Only for reality to ensue, and the survivors turning their guns at the now defenceless eldians and mowing them down.

Why do i think this? because this would line up really well with Eren mocking the very idea of humanity teaming up to fight a larger, common foe despite all their diferences early in the story, as well as adress the main reason why people hated the alliance. 

The Alliance... Had no plan. They had absolutely no plans for what to do after killing Eren. they didnt have any ideas for how to achieve peace with the world, how to defend paradis, or anything really. 

they chose to oppose and kill Eren Anyway, because as Henge says, Nothing justifies Genocide.

Having an ending where the guys they have been fighting and killing during the final conflict, that wanted to murder all of them, responding to their great heroic struggle to save the world, by gunning them down and killing them all, would have adressed their complete lack of a plan with the most brutal kind of consequenses.

They did the right thing, and they were NOT rewarded for it. Just like Eddard Stark was not rewarded for his mercy towards the Lannister Children.

It would also just have made so, so much more sense than the non ending to the conflict that we got, and been an incredibly bittersweet note, but withouth any real hope. Just like the Mist.

The alliance did it. they killed eren. they saved the world. they are the greatest heroes of all time. and all it cost was the life of them, and everyone they cared about, as wheter its shown in the final chapter or not, Paradis is going to wiped out as a result of their actions. but hey, at least they stuck to their guns all the way, just like eren did.

The final shot of the manga would have been an ironic flashback, as in the end, Eren’s idea that this conflict would have ended in genocide would have been vindicated, with the most important line of the manga closing out the depressing story of Attack on titan, while also acknowloging and hammering in the the tragedy of Eren’s life.

The boy who sought freedom more than anyone else, was never, ever free.

And it would have ended on a note very similar to The Mist.

A Tragedy where the characters stuck to their guns, and paid with everything for it.

[k-writesthings]

Understanding - Levihan

This was requested by @lonelypalmtree​ based on a dream, which I think is actually awesome! I’m sorry it took so long... I may have gone a bit overboard with the word count, at least for my one-shot standards.

Word Count: 3102

Warnings: Cussing, “A Choice With No Regrets” OVA Spoilers!

   -848-

   “Squad Isaac! Take up the defense position, we have one coming in on the right!” A masculine voice called over the thundering of hoof beats. Hange resisted the urge to take a swipe at him with her last blade. 

   This man, Commander Erwin Smith,  was leading his soldiers out of yet another bloodbath. Every time they went outside the Walls they lost people, and every single fucking time, it was someone Hange cared about. First a friend she had trained with in the Cadet Corps, then a soldier she had feelings for, and now her entire squad… She was the only one from her unit to report back. No one else survived.

   And there wasn’t a single thing she could have done about it. 

   Hange was just a measly soldier- Titan fodder, really. She had no authority, no power to scream “Retreat!” when she saw the massive hoard of Titans crest a hill. The only reason she was still alive was because she scaled a tree as soon as she killed the Titan who ate her squadmates. There was nothing else to do besides sit there and listen to the screams of innocent people as they were slaughtered. And she had to tell their story.

   A sharp pain ran up Hange’s arm as she realized her hand had cramped from gripping the reins of her horse too hard. She sighed and flexed her palm open and closed to dispel the throb. As the ground shook from a massive thud (probably from the Titan Squad Isaac took down) behind her, she gritted her teeth and tried her hardest to burn holes in the back of Erwin’s head with her eyes. The Titans had ruined her life. This regiment had ruined her life. Why did she even become a scout again? She vaguely recalled a willingness to die for the “cause”, but now that feeling was almost all gone, dried up with the blood of the Titans she fell. Now, all she wanted was to know why. Why did the Titans eat people? Why did they exist? Why couldn’t they get rid of them? So many questions, so much hurt and anger. 

  And she needed answers, but not just from the Titans. 

  “Stop here!” Erwin’s voice suddenly rang out again, steering his horse towards a group of trees. “Tie off the horses and get into the trees. We are still waiting for word from the Cart Convoy, so until then we stay here and we stay quiet. If any Titans see us, cut them down immediately and as silently as possible.” He dismounted once we reached the trees and handed his horse to another soldier to tie off. “Squad Levi, Hange, on me.” Hange was momentarily taken aback by this sudden command, but nonetheless followed him up into the tree with her ODM Gear.  

   She landed roughly, nearly missing the branch entirely. But, she caught her balance and stood in front of her Commander. The one that all but condemned her comrades to death. He gazed at her with a solemn expression, eyebrows knit in thought, or maybe sadness. Hange stared back, careful not to show too much emotion. A sudden draft of air told her that Levi and his squad had arrived. The newly promoted captain approached Erwin as well, pausing in front of the commander only a bit further back than Hange. She glanced behind her and saw his squad of fresh-faced recruits. This was probably only their second expedition, but they all stood and watched Erwin, mimicking an expression that they had no doubt learned from Levi. Hange felt a stab of pain as she thought of her squadmates in some Titan’s stomach, while Levi’s squad was all alive and well. It made her blood boil and her eyes sting with tears at the same time.   

   “I’m going to put this plainly.” Erwin began, seeing we were all present. “It’s unlikely that we will make it back to Walls with all the soldiers we have here. Our numbers are simply too many for the Titan activity present in the area. We’ve drawn too much attention as is. And…” Hange couldn’t tell if he had trailed off for dramatic effect or because of the gravity of their situation. “The Cart Convoy isn’t coming back. I saw them send up red and purple signal flares just before the Left Wing Spotters were taken out. I didn’t have time to help them-,” Hange cut him off with a bark of mirthless laughter.

  “So, who could you help, Erwin? Anybody?” she exclaimed, advancing on his much taller form. He watched her with an odd look of guilt, instead of trying to diffuse the situation like she thought he would. “I watched the ENTIRE Left Wing get taken out, I listened as they were eaten in front of me. I lost my comrades, the last people who were good to me!” She felt tears sting her eyes, obscuring her already shitty eyesight. “Where were you, Erwin? Where WERE you?!” She screamed her last question, locking the last blade into her sword hilt. With anger bubbling from every fissure of her soul, she swung up and over his head, determined to kill this murderer. 

   The next few moments happened in slow motion. Inches before she took off Erwin’s head, another blade collided with her own. She whipped around to see Levi’s angered face and harsh features staring back at her. He took a step forward and moved to kick her feet out from under her. His ankle crashed into hers, knocking her off balance and sending her tumbling off the branch. She freefell for what felt like a lifetime- but must have only been a second- before she reacted and shot her hooks into the underside of the branch. Hange swung down unharmed, and raced to retrieve her horse. 

   She had to leave. Now.

   ‘These goddamn Titans. This goddamn world! If only I knew more about them… I could’ve tried harder to save them. My friends…’ Hange’s thoughts flew through her head, only reinforcing her idea. Her plan. These Titans, these… creatures were dangerous, yes, but what could humanity gain from the knowledge they held? Would research be the difference between humanity’s freedom and humanity’s defeat? She didn’t know for sure, but she knew more than Erwin did. And she was determined to learn more.

         Hange had always had an affinity for science and math; it was a hobby she prided herself in. And Titans interested her to no end. She wanted to know everything that was going on in the big, dumb head of theirs. Once she joined the Survey Corps, she realized she may have an opening to capture some for her studies. Though, she’d never thought like this before, her heart thrummed and her mind whirled. ‘I’m going to bring a Titan back to the Walls. I’m going to show Erwin what it’s like to actually help people.’

★

   The wind whipped through Levi’s hair aggressively, as if telling him to turn back. Telling him that Shitty-Glasses was a lost cause. He agreed, and would’ve listened to the angered wind, but he was given direct orders from Erwin to bring her back. Alive. And that meant following the erratic scientist on horseback as she headed back towards where the Left Wing fell. He could just barely make out the outline of a horse as he chased after her. She had only had a minute head-start, and yet she was nearly a mile away from him. 

      And headed towards where the Left Wing Spotters were massacred.

   He cursed quickly under his breath before kicking his horse to go faster. The horse whinnied in protest, but slowly picked up speed. Hange’s silhouette began to grow as he gained on her. His gaze narrowed as she tossed a glance over her shoulder, realizing she was being followed. Her hand flew to her belt, and Levi immediately knew what she was grabbing for. He was ready for the quick pop and plume of red smoke fired straight at him, which he dodged easily on horseback. He wasn’t hit with the signal flare, but it did manage to obscure his surroundings. Levi pulled to a stop and listened to the whistling wind. The soft sound of rustling bushes came from off to his left.

   They had ridden past this area- there was forest here. 

   He gripped the reins and pulled sharply once again, steering off towards the forest. And as the red smoke cleared, horse tracks in the soft dirt told him he was headed in the right direction. But he had to be careful. Forests were a Titan hot-spot. They could hide here, ready to catch any soldier, even him, off-guard. And he had the advantage of being called “Humanity’s Strongest”. Hange may be smart, but she was not in her right mind. Levi had to get to her before a Titan did.

   Quickly deciding it was better if he was on ODM Gear, he tied his horse to a tree and took to the treetops. From there, he could see everything around him, including one small Titan watching him too closely. He killed it without breaking a sweat and continued his search.

   Levi flew through the trees for about fifteen minutes before he began to get annoyed and feel a familiar sinking feeling in his gut. ‘She’s probably dead by now. Damn Four-Eyes, running off and getting herself killed… making me carry her body back.’ Assuming there was a body to take back. Levi sighed and refocused. He knew better than to let his brain wander like this. Last time he did, he almost killed his entire squad. All because he was in his head. But not this time, he wouldn’t-

    “That’s right! C’mon! Follow me, you big lug!” 

   Hange.

 ★

   “C’mon, I didn’t ride all the way in here to leave empty-handed, now did I?” Hange walked backwards slowly, staring up at the massive humanoid face above her. She had just found this beauty. He was behind a tree, standing at ten meters, with big blue eyes and pursed lips. He also had shoulder length blonde hair that really complimented his eyes. In short, Hange was giddy just thinking about what she’d learn from dissecting him. “Now, darling? I just want you to follow me out of the forest. I have a home not far from here. And while I can’t promise you any food, you’ll never be short on companionship! Step out from behind the tree, don’t be shy!” She continued coaxing the Titan forward until she had reached her horse. The beast took a few steps forward, hand reaching out towards Hange as she untied her horse. 

   Hange smiled up at him. “Now, now. Let’s not get too handsy just yet!” She had just reached for her blades when a sudden splash of steaming blood crashed down on her. Before she could even register what was happening, the Titan collapsed to the ground- dead. 

   Levi stood before her breathing just a bit heavier than normal. His icy grey eyes met hers. “Hange…” He advanced on her quickly, raising his blade and backing her up into a tree. “What the fuck were you thinking?!”

    Hange didn’t quite hear him. Her gaze was trained on the smoking body disintegrating next to them. She felt angry tears sting her eyes. Her face grew red hot. How dare he?! 

   “Four-Eyes? Are you listening? I asked-,” She cut him off with a quick knee to his groin. He doubled over, clearly surprised she was fighting back. 

   “You killed him! You killed him, Levi!” She screamed, running at him with her blades drawn, blindly slashing as he bobbed and weaved around her manic movements. “He could’ve helped us! And you KILLED HIM!” 

   Levi was suddenly at her side, holding both her wrists away from him as he spoke to her. “Hange, stop this now. You could be put in jail for insubordination. On two counts.”

   She tore her hands free from his grip and elbowed him in the throat. He choked and gasped for a second before she was on him again, kicking him in the stomach and knocking him flat on his back. “You’re a murderer, Levi.” She kneeled down, her nose inches from his. “A murder-”

   And her world went black. 

★

    Hange woke up suddenly. Her eyes flew open and she sat up. Well, attempted to sit up. The sudden stabbing pain behind her eyes made her cry out, and when she tried to grasp her head in her hands, she found them both shackled to the side of (what seemed to be) a bed. As the pain subsided, her memories came flooding back. Her squad, Erwin, that Titan, and…

   “You awake, Shitty-Glasses?” 

   Levi.

   The emotionless man sat at a desk next to her bed. They were not in a jail cell… it looked like a normal bedroom. She just happened to be shackled to the bed in this normal bedroom. And apparently Levi was there, too. 

   He watched her for a moment, as if waiting for her to speak. Hange opened her mouth, but all that came out was a dry squeak. Levi sighed heavily and got up to release one of her hands. 

   Then, he handed her a cup of water. 

   Though she had to sit up to drink it without spilling, Hange still downed it gratefully. She savoured the feeling of her parched throat being satisfied by the cool drink. She handed the cup back to Levi, who set it on the desk as he sat back down. 

   “What happened?” She asked.

   “Well,” Levi looked at her with a look best described as ‘done with Hange Zoë’s bullshit’. “You went crazy and tried to bring a Titan back to the Walls like a dumbass. Then you tried to kill me. Then I knocked you out and brought you back here.”

   “Where is “here”? Headquarters?” 

   “No. You see, Premiere Zackly didn’t take kindly to you making an attempt on both Erwin’s and my life, so he wanted to hang you for treason. Erwin is currently at the Capitol trying to repeal your sentence, along with my squad.” Levi explained all of this without batting an eye, but Hange could tell he was pissed.

   “Erwin’s trying to repeal it? Why? I tried to kill him…” Hange tried to wrap her head around this new information, but it began to give her a headache. She brought a hand up to her temple, about to touch it before Levi batted it away.

   “Don’t. I had to hit you with a rock to knock your crazy ass out. You have a gash there.” She could’ve sworn she saw his gaze soften a bit before he continued. “But I couldn’t tell you why he did what he did. I voted for you to be thrown in jail for a couple years, but even that wasn’t enough for the bastard with a heart of gold. He’s trying to get you out without even so much as a strike on your record.” He paused for a second. “Which isn’t fair. I still have two on mine from when I joined the Corps.”

   Hange smiled slightly, recognizing Levi’s dry humor. “I’m thankful, but I just don’t understand…”

   “Do you feel like shit?” He asked her, his hand ghosting over his left side.

   “Yes… I do.” She pressed her hand to the bridge of her nose to stop her vision from swimming. “I was just… so angry…”

    Levi’s eyes left her form and he stared at the reports he was working on before she woke up. He looked like he was struggling with something. “I was, too. When I tried to kill Erwin.”

    Hange’s hand flew down and her eyes widened hearing this. “You.. you what?”

    “I tried to kill that Titan-sized bastard, too. Right after…” He trailed off, looking lost in thought and way more sullen than Hange had ever seen him before. He didn’t need to say their names, Hange knew what he was talking about. 

   “I-,” Her words caught in her throat just thinking about Farlan and Isabel. “I didn’t know.”

   “How could you? Only one there to see it was Mike, and he doesn’t say a word when he’s told not to. I just wanted you to know that I understood what you were feeling.”

   “I’m sorry. For them, for trying to kill you, for trying to bring a Titan back, for making you stay here and watch me…”

   Levi seemed to ignore the Titan comment, instead leaning back in his chair and groaning lowly. “I’m not going to say it’s fine and all is forgiven. You bruised the hell out of my ribs, Shitty-Glasses.”

   “You want me to take a look? I do have some medical experience, you know.” Hange reached forward and beckoned him closer. Levi grimaced, but moved towards her anyway. “But, I’d like use of my other hand as well, if you’d please.” This earned an audible grumble and Levi cursing as he leaned over her body and unshackled her left hand as well. “Thank you. Now raise your shirt.” 

   Levi untucked his pressed white shirt and lifted it a bit. Hange’s hands slowly poked and prodded at a small array of mottled purple bruises under his left pectoral muscle. She mostly muttered to herself, issuing an apology whenever she touched a particularly sore spot and made Levi hiss in pain. She also tried to keep her head down, face out of sight. She was fairly certain she was blushing as she conducted her examination. She had never been one to shy at the mention of anything medical, but this seemed much more… intimate somehow. Hange kept “examining” him until she was sure her blush had dissipated.

   “Good news, Levi. It’s just a couple small bruises on three ribs. Just make sure to breathe deeply for about a minute at least ten times a day. You need to stretch your lungs so you don’t develop a lung disease.” Hange told him, leaning back in bed and touching her hair softly. She almost gasped in surprise. It was… clean.

   Levi seemed to notice her surprise as he tugged his shirt down and re-tucked it. “I bathed you. You smelled like horse shit.”

   Hange felt her face heat up again as she turned away from him in embarrassment. “You… bathed me?” 

   “Yes. I had to be in this room with you, I didn’t want you smelling the whole place up.” He sounded perfectly unbothered. The scratch of a quill told her that he had started filling out reports again.

   “I-,” Hange sighed. “You’re such an asshole.”

   “Right back at you, Four-Eyes.”

(Alright, so not super romantic, but that’s okay! I wanted Hange to be more naive and impulsive here, as she’s only about 21, while Levi is about 26-27. And don’t ask me what’s going on with the stars, I couldn’t tell you.)

[cherrydreamer]

Cocktober 16: Possession AKA What’s Mine is Yours is Ours

Have some more mostly fluffy domestic boys making a house into a home. Some warnings for implied child abuse (Neil Hargrove is mentioned), swearing, bit of angst and implied homophobia (but it’s more surprise at the lack of it...)  As always, lemme know if I miss anything! (Technically it’s Part 2 of this, but it should make sense without reading it. Just know that Steve’s possibly gay uncle left him a house, and Steve invited Billy to live with him and that’s where they’re heading!) ****** It’s easier than Steve expected to drag himself and Billy out of Hawkins, to escape the magnet of the small town, the pull that gets stronger with every year spent there, every opportunity missed or lost or ignored, until you turn around at forty with two kids, a beer gut and a wife you met in high school. And Steve’s gonna miss the kids, and Robin of course, and he gets a little teary when they throw him a goodbye party, but it’s not like he’s going too far away, and he knows that if he stays, they’re all gonna move on without him anyway. He’s gotta take this chance while he has it. Doesn’t know when he’s gonna get another. 

And so he gets out. So does Billy. They escape. 

When Steve pictured it, he imagined them both roaring out in the Camaro, holding hands across the seat and flipping the bird in unison at the ‘You Are Now Leaving Hawkins’ sign. Steve had even started making a mix-tape for the journey, a perfect blend of Queen, Metallica, Mötley Crüe and Blondie, just enough to lull Billy into a false sense of security before he’s hit with the finest of Steve’s pop tastes- a-Ha, Wham!, Billy fucking Joel.

In reality, they have to drive separately. They’re gonna want both of their cars there in Chicago anyway, and Steve’s BMW is absolutely crammed with boxes and suitcases so there’s no way around it. Steve thinks up all sorts of other plans, involving trailers and moving vans and him driving out early then getting a Greyhound back, and Billy gently, but firmly, shoots each one down. Puts his foot down entirely when Steve suggests walkie-talkies because ‘we’re not in goddamn Convoy, Harrington’. Tells him that they’re about to be living together, they can last a five hour journey without each other. 

So they meet early on moving day, Billy roaring his way to Loch Nora so they can at least see each other before they set off, Billy bringing Steve in for a kiss and then they’re off. They stay together to start with, and they do both stick up a middle finger at the sign, but then Billy’s shooting off in front and Steve’s lagging behind, losing sight of him by the first set of traffic lights. 

But at least Steve gets to listen to Uptown Girl without Billy’s usual scorn, and gets to think about his own ‘backstreet guy’ the whole time. Gets to sing all the ‘oh whoa whoas’ without getting a jab to the ribs. 

Steve pulls into a diner about half-way, does a quick scan of the parking lot and lets out a relieved sigh when he sees the Camaro there, parked as far from the building as it can. There’d been no real need for either of them to stop, it’s a short enough drive that Steve’s pretty sure they could’ve made it without the need to pee or eat, but he scheduled it in anyway, made Billy promise to check in with him- a failsafe. And when he parks up next to Billy, Steve’s so glad he did. Because he looks over to see Billy hunched over- his head in his hands, fingers tugging at his blond curls.

Steve’s out of the car like a shot, diving into the passenger side and gently untangling Billy’s fingers from his hair, pulling him close and stroking his own hands through those curls instead, soft and soothing.

Steve knows what it's about.

Knows that, had it just been Neil and Susan left in Hawkins, then Billy wouldn’t be like this. Knows that they’d have made this journey weeks ago, the moment that Steve extended the invitation. Billy jumping at his chance for freedom, for escape.  But Billy has Max, and they have a new, fragile bond that he didn’t want to fracture by just upping and leaving. And Steve has always known that there’s been more than just his curfew keeping Billy going back to Cherry Lane, that there were days when it was a certainty that someone in that house was going to get bruises, and Billy wanted to make sure that it was him. 

So Steve had given him all the time he needed to say goodbye, to feel OK about leaving Max behind. Had held him when he shook and shuddered and hated himself for planning on leaving her there, on walking out when she might need him. On doing exactly what his mom did to him. In the end, it’d been Max who’d convinced Billy to go. Had said she’d never forgive him if he didn’t, would never forgive herself if he stuck around and got hurt. Had promised to call him the moment, the second, that she even got a hint that Neil might do anything. 

“Don’t you let him touch you, Max. He so much as breathes wrong near you, you get out of that house, you call me and I’ll come, OK? Middle of the fucking night Max, I’ll come. Swear it. You gotta swear it or I won’t leave.”

Steve had given her pretty much the same speech. Had told Hopper to keep an eye on her. Had told Joyce.

But Steve knows that Billy’s still feeling guilty. Knows that he won’t ever truly relax until either Max or Neil is out of that house. 

So Steve just holds him. Lets him cry in the middle of a mostly empty parking lot, outside some run-down shitty diner halfway to their new life together. Splits an order of fries and a chocolate shake with him when the tears stop, and then they’re on the way again. Billy, once more, miles out in front before Steve’s even got his seatbelt on. Steve wonders if he’s racing towards what lies ahead in Chicago, or just racing away from what he’s been dealing with in Hawkins.

***

Steve arrives at the house to find Billy already there, leaning against the Camaro and tapping his foot impatiently.

"Finally,” he grumbles, “Been waiting ages. You drive like my grandma and she's dead."

Steve rolls his eyes as he gets out of the Beemer, stretching his arms and hearing a satisfying click in his back, "You know you have keys right? Don't tell me you've lost Sir Eggsby. Robin will honestly kill me if you have."

But Steve knows he hasn't, can see Billy fidgeting with the keys in his hands, his fingers flicking at the rubber chicken keychain. Knows that’s Billy’s stalling for a reason.

"It, uh, didn't feel right to go in without you," the words are mumbled, but Steve can feel the emotion behind them. He gets it. It feels like something they need to do together. He takes the keys from Billy’s then reaches back to hold his hand. 

"Don't think I can quite carry you over the threshold baby, but hopefully this is close enough."

They walk through the front door together.

Steve can feel Billy take a deep breath beside him. He squeezes his hand, draws him in even closer.

“Hey honey, we’re home,” Steve can’t help it. Has been saying the line in his head for the last half hour of the drive. Billy knocks his head against Steve’s shoulder, “Fucking cheeseball,” he grins, but Steve can see the way his eyes are shining. They walk hand in hand through the house, Billy taking in the few framed photos still left on the walls, on the scattered books left on the shelves- tracing his fingers over the spines, and murmuring the titles, “ Giovanni’s Room, Maurice, City of Night… yeah Stevie, your uncle was…..” he turns to Steve, “I wish I’d known him.” 

Steve smiles at him, squeezes his hand.

“He’d have loved you, Bill. Woulda probably tried to steal you away from me.”

Billy smirks, “Man of good taste, clearly.” Steve pulls him closer, draws him in for a kiss that soon becomes handsy and heated. Steve hates to stop it, but he knows that one of them has to, otherwise he knows exactly how the day is going to unfold,

“C’mon let’s get unpacked, before we get any more distracted.”

Billy lugs a few crates out of the Camaro, a duffle bag slung around his shoulders. He drops them all in the living room, then strides over to Steve's car and starts helping him unload.

Before too long, most of the downstairs rooms are filled and the car is empty. 

Steve wipes the sweat from his brow, winks when he sees Billy watching the action hungrily.

"You need some help with the rest of yours?" he asks

"Nah, I'm all done," Billy shrugs

"But where's all your...stuff?” Steve looks at the small pile of Billy’s crates on the floor, filled with a collection of tapes and books, some toiletries. A floaty yellow scarf wrapped around a Beach Boys record. His eyes scan around, as if expecting more things to pop up out of nowhere. 

"This is my stuff." Billy's eyes are hard and Steve can see the walls building, can see the way Billy is trying to shut the conversation down. But he can’t help himself, it doesn’t make sense . He knows that Billy has more than this, hell- his jacket collection would probably take up a duffle bag on its own. He tries again,

“But your weights? Your-”

"Neil didn't exactly throw me a going away party when I said I was leaving.” Billy is smiling but there’s no humour in his eyes,  “No goodbye kisses and a casserole for the road. It was more a kind of ‘grab what I can and get outta there, don't let the door hit me in the ass on the way out’ send off."

And Steve's stomach sours at that, hadn’t realised it’d been that bad. 

"Shit, well we can always...we can go back later? When he's at work? Or get Max to-"

Billy shakes his head, "You really think he's gonna hang on to any of my shit? It's trash day tomorrow Harrington, that stuff's gonna be long gone."

And Billy just seems so… resigned. So matter-of-fact about his possessions, his things, his memories, being tossed away like that. Steve reaches out an arm, and Billy leans into it. 

“It’s fine Steve, I got the car, I got you. ‘S’all I need.”

And Steve just hopes he’ll be enough.

****

They get started on the bedroom- Billy commenting that it’ll be the room they spend most of their time in anyway, so best get it sorted first. It’s not a bad room, light and airy, pale blue walls with some nondescript landscape paintings. Billy’s in the middle of putting some fresh sheets onto the bed when Steve wrinkles his nose.

“We need a new bed,” he folds his arms, “It's gonna feel weird, sleeping in here.”

Billy smirks, “Oh yeah, I bet this mattress has seen a lot of action. I saw those photos downstairs, your uncle was hot.”

Steve is grimacing, “Ugh, why would you say that? Yeah, ugh, definitely a new bed. I don’t wanna be thinking about...about that.” He shivers in disgust, and Billy rolls his eyes.

“We can’t just get a new bed Steve.”

“Why not?” Steve asks, and Billy shakes his head,

“Because, well, because it’s not like a carton of milk. We can’t just stroll down to the shop and get one.”

“Why?” Steve asks again,

“You’re like a toddler,” Billy smooths down the duvet he’s just finished changing, and Steve launches himself onto it, pulling Billy down with him and wrinkling it back up instantly.

“No, listen, why? Because we’re adults and we have money. And we have a house. And there’s a furniture shop on that strip we passed, remember? And it’s open. And it sells beds. So we can just go get a bed. For our house. Today. ”

Billy is grinning now, pulling Steve close,

“Ok, pretty boy yeah you got me, technically we can buy a bed. But they’re not gonna deliver it today- so unless you fancy carrying it home for two miles, then we won’t get it today.”

Steve pouts a little at that, sulking, until Billy bashes him gently with a pillow.

“Hey!” Steve pushes back, “Maybe we could go look though?” he says, voice dropping low into that purr that he knows Billy can’t resist. “Test out a few mattresses. See if we can find one sturdy enough to cope with what I’m planning to do to you.” 

Steve reaches out to run a hand along Billy’s chest, fully intending on not leaving the bed- let alone the house- at all for the next few hours,  but Billy is already springing up, pulling Steve along with him,

“Alright then Steve, but I’m honestly not sure there’s such a thing. Hey, you think we could get a water bed?” 

And Steve’s not entirely sure it’s such a good idea any more.  

They get somewhat waylaid on the way to the furniture store. Billy insists on walking, argues that a mattress isn’t gonna fit in either of their cars anyway, so they may as well get a feel for the neighbourhood. And then he’s adamant that he knows a shortcut. Says he has a feeling . Steve tries to argue that Billy’s never been here before, and that it might be more sensible to stick to the road- the way they know, but Billy just scoffs and leads him in the opposite direction.

They don’t end up finding the store.

They do end up finding the park.

And some peacocks.

Billy jumps when he hears the first squawk, some weird hooting caw.

“What the fuck?” he yelps, spinning round to find the source of it and coming face to face with a large, shouty peacock.

Billy just stands with his mouth open for a few moments, before turning to Steve with a look of absolute wonder on his face,

“What kinda fancy ass neighbourhood is this? We're in the gay district now right? Cause this is the gayest fucking park.”

Steve just looks at him in confusion, and Billy gestures to the bird.

“Stevie, most parks have pigeons. Maybe doves if you’re in the rich bit. We have peacocks, that’s gotta mean we’re in the gay bit.”

“Are peacocks gay?” Steve is grinning, loving how passionate Billy is getting about his own dumb argument,

“Steve, honestly, they're the gayest animal, just look at 'em. The men all prettied up for each other.” He lets out a chuckle, “And they've got cock in their name.”

Steve can’t help but agree, risking a quick squeeze of Billy’s hand as they stand and watch the peacock scratching in the dirt, his feather splayed out behind him.

“Reminds me of you,” Steve mutters, “Showing off like that. Remember when you first came to Hawkins, that’s exactly what you were like.” Steve knocks his hips against Billy’s, “All strutting around getting everyone’s attention. Plus you were loud . My God, you never shut up!”

Billy nudges him back, an elbow to Steve’s ribs- a fleeting touch. 

“It worked though didn’t it,” he smiles, “Got me the prettiest bird in the place.”  They smile at each other, fingertips brushing, not even noticing as the peacock waddles away.

  It becomes their tradition, every night after dinner, to go for a walk around the park. 

Some nights they jog together, a few laps around the pond, with Billy always pushing for one more than Steve can comfortably manage. 

One night they’re walking together, heads close as they chat quietly, when they see another couple coming towards them. Another two men. Hand in hand.

Billy stops talking, and Steve can tell he’s not sure whether to look away, whether to stare, whether to smile or wave at them or cry.

It’s the same way he gets when he sees the rainbow stickers in the shop windows, when he saw the bookshop with Windy City Times proudly on display.

The next night, Steve lets his hand bump against Billy’s. Feels his heart skip when Billy reaches out to entwine their fingers. To press their palms together. Undeniably.

They stay like that for the rest of the walk. 

The next night, Billy grabs hold of Steve’s hand as soon as they’re though the park gates.

  There's a bench they find on their fifth or sixth visit, it's not in an overly popular spot, it's under a tree so it’s usually covered in leaves in the autumn or splattered with bird shit the rest of the time. Plus it’s set too far away from the path to be convenient- but Billy likes it best because the grouchy peacock tends to sit near it. He likes to bring along a crust or two of bread and sit on the bench, trying in vain to lure the bird nearer. He’s got some crazy idea that he might be able to tame it, might be able to get it eating out of his hand if he waits long enough. 

Steve thinks that, if anyone’s gonna manage it, it’ll be Billy.

  One night, Steve brings along a penknife, keeps it hidden in his pocket and while Billy is going for his extra lap around the pond, Steve quickly carves B&S into the wood, outlines it with a messy heart.

Billy kisses him as soon as he notices it. He doesn’t even look around first.

  A few weeks later they finally get their new bed delivered. 

They’d spent ages choosing it together. Billy hadn’t said much at first, had stood back and watched Steve bobbing through the store, eagerly dashing between the beds- throwing himself down onto mattresses and then shaking his head or giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

By the ninth bed, and Billy’s ninth shrug, Steve had gone to him, head down and voice quiet. Had asked if he was OK. And Billy had been just as quiet as he mumbled that he didn’t see why it mattered what he liked. It was Steve’s house, he should choose.

And Steve had felt like an absolute idiot.

Because he hadn’t explained. Had totally forgotten in the rush of everything.

“Bill, you know that’s not true right. You know it’s our house?”

He’d seen Billy start to protest, knew exactly what he was gonna say and headed it off at the first pass. “No, it is legally our house. I, uh, I put your name on the….whatever it was I signed. I just….just in case. I  think maybe you probably shoulda signed something too, but they kinda rushed it all through when they saw it was my uncle. Think they felt sorry for me. So, uh, yeah. It’s in your name too. It’s ours.”

Steve remembered the excitement he’d felt when he did it. The thrill when he saw the final documents all printed out. When he saw his name and Billy’s there together, all official- the two of them tied together. 

And Billy had frozen. Has just gone utterly, entirely still. Steve had been terrified, wondered if he’d gone too far. Wondered if it was too much for Billy, too formal, too...real.

But then Billy had beamed, one of the biggest, brightest smiles that Steve had ever seen. And he’d grabbed Steve’s hand, just for a moment, just long enough to him to drag him over to the largest, plushiest bed in the place and fling them both onto it with a laugh.

  And, finally, finally, the bed arrived. Unloaded by two delivery men who raised their eyebrows but didn’t say a word when Billy directed them into the master bedroom and Steve had been in there to tell them exactly where to put it. 

Steve’s particularly pleased with the wrought iron headboard. Billy hadn’t been a fan initially, but he’s soon converted when he realises that all those ‘weird curly bits’ just meant that he now has a lot of ways to get creative with his silk ties and Steve’s wrists. 

They give it a thorough test. 

  Their house is slowly starting to come together, starting to feel more like a home. Their home. The new bed helps, as does the second-hand set of weights in the corner of the spare bedroom. Steve had found them at a yard sale, had managed to load them all into his BMW and then utterly failed at lifting them back out when he got home. Billy had nearly broken a rib from laughing at his efforts, before getting himself nice and sweaty taking them all upstairs by himself. They’d given the bed another test after that.

  But it’s the kitchen that Steve likes the most. He’d given Billy full reign over it, had handed over a credit card and told him to go mad in the department store in the city. He smiled to himself when Billy spent a good twenty minutes comparing pans, walking around tossing imaginary pancakes. Had pretty much bought everything that Billy looked at for longer than a few seconds, every utensil and piece of crockery and a whole new shelf of recipe books. And it was worth it, Steve thinks, worth every single penny, because Billy makes the best damn meals that he’s ever tasted. And whenever Billy’s cooking, when he’s bopping his head to the radio and chopping some vegetables and the sunlight’s catching in his curls and on his tanned shoulders, while Steve’s sitting at the table reading the paper, or just watching, just watching his gorgeous golden boyfriend so absolutely in his element, well that’s when Steve truly feels at home. 

There’s only one thing in the kitchen that Steve had any say in whatsoever, and it just so happens to be Billy’s absolute favourite item in the place.

It’s a silly little gift, something that Steve couldn’t resist. Knew he had to do it as soon as he saw the kitschy pottery place in the neighbourhood. The one with the pretty hand-painted mugs in the window and the pottery classes for beginners. 

Steve made it over a few weeks, with a lot of help from Gloria and Kath, the two women who own the place, and he casually handed it over to Billy one morning- already filled with coffee just the way he likes it.

Billy had raised an eyebrow at it as soon as Steve placed it down in front of him. Took a gulp of coffee and then took in the slightly lopsided mug it came in, painted with an equally lopsided design of a peacock- one eye larger than the other and a few dribbles where the paint had run slightly. But it’s the caption that made him laugh, made him spit the coffee out and laugh until tears were running down his face. 

‘Behold my Magnificent Cock’.

And it’s not exactly neat- the handwriting is unmistakably Steve’s, and the letters of ‘magnificent’ are kinda smushed together at the end.

But like everything in their house it’s perfect.

Like everything, it's theirs. 

[savagc]

@shcftingpieces​ sent:  ▲  five time my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did.

sick day - raven hadn’t come to school. bell after bell rang and each class that passed felt like she was biding her time with the hope that she would turn up. she hadn’t realized until now how much she relied on seeing her, how much the enjoyment of her day weighed on raven being there and being part of her day. luna’s chin rested in her palm, thirteen and she couldn’t even think about anything the teachers were saying because she just wanted the final bell to sound and be free to check on raven. she must be sick, or something was wrong...from there her thoughts ran rampant on her, a death in the family, she might be falling apart and luna wasn’t there for her to sit by her side, she wasn’t there to hold her hand, to not say a word but just to extend the hope that raven might feel less alone with her being there beside her. pins and needles of anxiety pushed luna through that day, until she was finally able to trudge out into the snow and make her way to raven’s house. there was no loss in family, but there was a sickness, something that brought on coughs and sniffles and hot soup...a small waste bin filled with tissues beside raven’s bed. luna stood in the doorway of her room for a moment, watching her sleep, her head resting lightly to the frame...and then after a short while she kicked off her boots and slid her bag down to the floor to rest there, shrugged off her jacket, pulled off her knit hat with a puffy ball on the top, tugged away her scarf...and clasped her hands together to check the coolness of them. they were cold. her umber eyes took in the flushed fever on raven’s cheeks and she moved closer to her sleeping in bed, herself clad in her own oversized sweater and jeans...she moved to climb into bed with her, to lay beside her best friend, and her arm slid around her so that she could snuggle her. for hours she stayed like that, head on raven’s pillow beside hers...thinking over and over about pressing her lips to hers...but worried they might be too cold, worried she might wake her. luna wouldn’t mind being sick with her, then she wouldn’t have to move maybe.

graduation - burgundy caps flew into the air, adorned with silver and gold tassels. summer meant complete freedom this year and it was a feeling unlike any other. there were plans, trips, camping with their peers, promises of tents and loud music, of staying up as late as they wanted, of no adults lingering around because...they were adults now themselves. come two days from now most of their class would be leaving town and heading for the mountains in a convoy of vehicles, free to do what they wanted, go where they wanted...and that placed so much excitement inside of luna because it meant...time spent with raven, hiking, talking, enjoying this taste of young freedom they worked so hard to reach....but as those caps flew through the air luna’s thoughts were broken apart. families pushed in to reach their graduates, luna pushed herself through the crowd to reach raven with a smile beaming on her face, and then she did reach her and her eyes darted down to her lips; she lost her breath with the urge she felt...to kiss her, to lean in and make it known to raven that she had feelings for her....because it turned out for the rest of the summer...she wouldn’t get the chance to. “it sucks...that my parents are dragging me on a trip.” she utters out. “i wanted to spend the summer with you.” and who knew....maybe someone else would kiss raven and every chance she might ever had would be gone. “i hate having a june birthday.” after...graduation; luna wasn’t entirely free yet and her eyes burned a little through her smile. “don’t forget about me?” she attempts to jest, and then she wrapped raven up in a tight hug that she didn’t want to release her from. 

video call - seeing her...after a year of phone calls and texts, it brought every feeling flooding back into her; more accurately it opened the box luna had placed all of her feelings inside of it...otherwise they were sometimes unbearable. universities had pulled them further away, in more ways than just miles. “you look...amazing.” she offers out, her smile wide on her lips, seeing raven in her university sweater, a messy pile of books behind her in her dorm, a notebook open on her bed...and that iconic raven ponytail. she thought about running her fingers back to guide a stray tendril of her hair back behind her ear....she thought about pressing her lips to hers...but she was too far away for that, both in miles and maybe...far from raven’s heart after so long. “any updates? what have i missed in your life?” luna asks instead, her hands pulling back into the sleeves of her sweater and fingers curling against the cuffs to tug on stray threads instead. she found herself brushing her fingertips against one thread softly, for how softly her heart felt for raven. it seemed no length of time would ever take raven out of the place inside of her that was reserved for her only. it felt easier now...to talk to her, look at her, hear her voice...and just her best friend, perfectly happy and content with that title. so long as raven was happy...she was happy too. and that was that.

seeing her again - a days drive was plenty of time for luna’s thoughts to turn on her; what was she going to say when she saw her, what was she going to feel. had time done anything to make her more capable of controlling her damn self when she was around her? she remembered the butterflies that used to assault her stomach, she was certain that she had grown up enough to not feel them the way that she used to. now that she was about to see her again...in person, she was having second thoughts about how okay she was. how over raven she was...when the reality was...luna was relocating...completely. she was moving, she was driving a uhaul filled with all of her things and she was following a map on her gps...right to a house where raven was waiting to help her unpack. she was...so entirely fucked. her hand threw the truck in park and her eyes found raven waiting outside. “shit.” it wasn’t common for luna to curse...but she did now because as she saw her, as she got out of the truck...facing raven who was pulling herself up from the front porch with keys in her hand that she had been holding for luna until she got here...she knew that she still felt...everything for her. she wanted to run to her, she wanted to scoop her up into her arms, she wanted to hold her and kiss her...but she was scared to now more than ever. she was so worried now of ruining their friendship and ruining the move here to be closer to her, a better job offer, a new place to live...it would be amazing to know her best friend was here. she couldn’t risk that, not when she had spent so much time not getting to see her. the elation of their friendship slammed into her though and she did rush to her, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tightly, grinning until her cheeks hurt because she was...so damn happy to see her, and to be able to hug her again. that...was enough for her.

jealousy - her fist was swollen, a bit bruised, she was a swaying on her feet as they stumbled in the door, her stomach still burning because someone thought it okay to nearly shove raven to the floor. there was a matching burning on her cheeks. her head was heavy, fuzzy from the warm drinks, a buzzing under her skin, running through her body. luna had rambled much of their cab ride back to raven’s place, it was closer than luna’s own place so they had settled on here for the night. after getting them out each a bottle of water from the fridge luna searched the freezer for something that they could make to eat. it might help soak up the drinks in her stomach and forget about her anger and urge to go back to that bar and beat that guy into the ground. a pizza would be perfect...or....maybe it wasn’t too late for thai take-out. pad thai sounded amazing right now. their usual was ordered from her phone and then she voiced that she had ordered them food...”i’m not sorry....he had no right.” she utters, looking at her...feeling that possessiveness in the pit of her stomach, that aching in her chest...everything bubbled up inside of her at once, courage, it seemed, really was liquid. she looked at her and she stepped closer to her, and for the first time...she wasn’t thinking, she wasn’t over-thinking, her thoughts weren’t chasing her, she was feeling...and her hand moved to raven’s cheek to hold her as she clumsily stepped into her and pressed her lips to hers. every thought in her head was gone, every uncertainty, every worry that she might ruin their friendship; she couldn’t think right now, not about anything but how warm and soft her lips were, not about anything but how sweet she tasted....and how badly she didn’t wanted to pause this moment and stay in it.

[trashmenofmarvel]

Devil’s Backbone - Chapter 13

Pairing: The Winter Soldier x S.H.I.E.L.D. agent!Reader

Summary: With your team dead and your mission failed, you’ve been taken by the assassin to an unknown location and are at the mercy of your cruel tormentors. (This fic is explicit, 18+ only, mild dubcon)

Chapter Warnings: Coping from trauma

Word Count: 1.5k

AO3

You awoke with a cry.

That was all you got. A single cry. A blazing muscle spasm ripped through your body and clenched your chest so tightly you couldn’t breathe, stealing your voice.

You scrabbled at the covers, pushing your head back into the pillow as another shockwave hit your spine. To say it hurt was laughable. It was beyond agony. It was a full-body muscle cramp combined with the feeling of being struck by lightning.

You clenched your teeth to try to breathe, but your chest was frozen and your lungs remained resolutely still.

Somewhere in the distance you heard the doorknob rattle followed by a loud pounding.

You looked out of the corner of your peripheral vision just in time to see the door slam open. Bits of wood split from the frame, but the assassin didn’t slow until he reached your bedside. He leaned over you, his pale blue eyes almost luminescent in the moonlight from the window, his brows dark and furious.

You choked out a noise of fear, staring up at him as panic slammed into your chest and made your heart thunder like a galloping racehorse.

“Breathe.”

His touch was surprisingly gentle as he tipped back your head, holding his palms to either side of your jaw. You couldn’t see him at this angle, but you couldn’t see much of anything. Your vision was beginning to fade.

“Relax. Breathe. It’ll pass.”

He said it as if he spoke from experience.

You closed your eyes.

“No. Look at me.”

His voice sounded flat. Distant. Like you were hearing him over a very bad telephone connection.

“Look at me, Agent Williams.”

It was the first time he had addressed you by name or referred to you by your title. You wondered if it was an auditory hallucination. The byproduct of a dying brain.

“Please open your eyes.” His voice was taut like a wire. He sounded afraid.

The tight band around your chest came loose, and you took a deep, shuddering breath.

In, and out. In, and out.

The muscles were loosening just enough for you to manage to pull your eyes open, so you did so, fighting to focus as shapes blurred before you. When they became clear, you couldn’t look away.

The assassin was standing further along the bed so he could see your face. He was so close you could feel his warm breath on your skin, see the startling worry in his eyes.

Why? you wondered faintly. Why?

“That’s it,” he said, so softly it was almost a whisper. His thumb brushed across the curve of your cheekbone. “Just look at me. And breathe.”

Your eyelids fluttered. It was hard to focus on him. Not from the cramping or pain—those things were beginning to ease—but because his hands were so warm, and solid, and comforting. It made you want to remain still, your head resting in his palm.

You had done that before, you recalled. The memory had an almost surreal quality now, tattered and fuzzy at the edges, but you remembered. He had helped you through the muscle spasms in your cell, even going so far as to have stayed with you after you’d fallen asleep.

“Don’t go,” you croaked out, panicked, suddenly afraid he would leave. “Don’t leave—“

You never heard his response; another spasm hit you, causing you to arch your spine as the muscles in your back went rigid. Your arms were pinioned at your sides by the force of your constrained muscles, and your heels dug into the mattress as the back of your head pressed into the pillow.

A solid arm moved under your shoulder blades, then your knees, and you sensed being briefly lifted from the bed only to be set down again. You were pulled towards a warm embrace. Heat seemed to flow throughout your body, returning feeling to your frozen limbs.

The warmth was exactly what you needed; your muscles began to uncoil. It happened slowly, tortuously as the sharp pain still seeped into your limbs, but it was better than it had been seconds ago. You exhaled in relief when the last of the painful tightness loosened and you could breathe normally again.

With the convulsion no longer overwhelming you, you were becoming increasingly aware of something warm and solid wrapped around your shoulders. You opened your eyes to find your nose nuzzled into the fabric of a black hoodie, the familiar yellow STRIKE symbol emblazoned on the left side. Right above his heart.

You tried to move out of the circle of his arms, but he tightened them and said, “Wait.”

Wait? You weren’t going to wait, not when he was holding you so close to him, on the bed, practically cuddling you while—

The breath was knocked out of you as the first tremor hit. You had forgotten about the aftershocks.

Your lungs weren’t vice-tight anymore, which helped if you wanted to breathe, bad if you wanted to remain silent. The noises that escaped your lips were small, pathetic, the noises a wounded animal would make. The tremors that coursed through your body were much more than simply physical. Your mind was barely hanging on, and you were on the verge of just fucking losing it.

You wanted it to end. The pain. The fear. The constant feeling that you would never be truly safe again. You may have escaped from the cell, and the doctors, and the white room, but you still carried the horror of that place deep in your bones.

No matter how hard you trembled, the assassin kept his arms tight around you, as if he alone could hold you in one piece. You held on to him in turn, focusing on his breathing, his scent, the feel of his hands, anchoring you to keep you from surrendering to despair.

“What did they do to me?” you asked in a small voice.

“Nothing that won’t heal,” was his only answer, said into your hair as he pressed his lips against your crown. “I promise.”

The gesture sent a tingling sensation through your chest. You curled your fists into the soft material of the hoodie, vaguely wondering where he had found it. In a drawer, somewhere, probably.

It should have comforted you, seeing the symbol that had once represented your life, but the sight of it, the brazen yellow eagle on black bordered by valiant stars, made something crack within you. It spread like a spider’s web, splintering and crumbling throughout your heart until it finally burst like an ill-maintained dam.

You began to cry.

Everything you had suffered through, endured, and survived, came pouring out. Tears slid down your cheeks as your body racked with silent sobs.

A hand moved to the back of your head and his fingers laced through your hair. It was soothing, safe, and gave you silent permission to finally grieve.

You cried for your teammates, reciting their names in your heart. You cried for the people in S.H.I.E.L.D., the innocent who would be hurt by the rot within when it festered fully. It was more than just a job; they had been your family and S.H.I.E.L.D. had been your home.

You cried for yourself. You cried for him.

You clung to the former assassin, burying your face into his chest, and he pulled you in tighter. At this point, you were practically lying on his normal arm, the fingers curling through your hair were metal ones. The sight of that gleaming silver had terrified you once. It had signified blood and impending death, now it was your solace and your only source of comfort.

With a last gasp of breath, the tears finally stopped flowing and you no longer shook like a leaf. He continued to softly caress your hair and you didn’t move away from the circle of his arms. This was the safest you had felt since the convoy attack and your SUV had gone skidding off the road.

He had done that. He had put you in a position where you had been robbed of your freedom and dignity, but despite his protests, you knew he was just as much a casualty of this hidden war as you were.

You were only just beginning to understand what had been done to him. Who had been there to comfort him when he had suffered through the torture and misery?

No one. He had endured it alone, and you would have been forced to do the same, if not for him.

As close to him as you were, you pulled closer still, burying your head against his collarbone. His breath hitched but he didn’t push you away; he rested his chin on the top of your head, further tucking your face against his neck.

You inhaled his scent, a strange spice of faint sweat and gunpowder residue. Comforting and familiar smells in your line of work, but on him, they were alluring and inviting.

Closing your eyes, exhausted beyond your ability to resist, you let the tide take you to safe and distant shores.

Next Chapter

[notfckincool]

DIRTY GIRL

Don't Call Me Princess

Negan x Ana (OC)

A collection of short smutty stories. Strong sexual content.

Ana embarks on a casual, and obviously filthy affair with Negan, accidentally falling for him, knowing he will never love her. Angst and Kinky fuckery.

WARNINGS : It's Negan so expect swearing, violence and sexual content throughout.

DON'T CALL ME PRINCESS

Negan x Ana (OC)

Ana adjusts to life as a Savior after refusing to be one of Negan's wives

WARNINGS: sexual content, swearing, dirty talk, oral sex

I sit cross legged on the bed, thumbing through an old magazine, a pile of books on the bedside table. Life is actually pretty good at The Sanctuary. My room is comfortable, I have clean water and decent food, and sandwiches, God, I didn't realize how much I'd missed sandwhiches. There's also a book and a music library, I really feel like I'm living a life of luxury, just like he promised. No, I don't regret my decision to stay and fight for the Saviors.

I love going on runs and missions. I don't have a problem helping keep the communities in line. Mostly things run pretty smoothly.  Occasionally, Negan and Lucille have to make an example, but for the most part he has everything under control.

Negan.

The man is an enigma. Behind the immature humour and permanent smirk, there's a quick calculative mind. Never lets anyone get too close. Never gives anything away. Never spoke to me again after I turned down the offer of being his wife.

It's a purely sexual attraction of course. The guy's a deluded sociopath, incapable of love and empathy, but still. I sigh heavily. Life as a wife in here would have felt like a prison sentence, I'd made that clear to him from the start, but I'd had a taste and I wanted more.

I'm jolted from my thoughts when there's a knock at the door.

"Yeah"

Lily opens the door and peeps in.

"Time to go hun."

"Yeah, I'm coming"

Tossing the magazine aside, I jump off the bed and follow Lily and the others down the corridors. Out in the yard people are noisily loading up trucks and checking weapons as a convoy gets ready to head out. I love the buzz of activity as the Saviors prepare for a mission. I look up at the walkway, where I know Negan will be stood, Lucille perched on his shoulder, proudly surveying his loyal army. I watch him as I get into my truck, but he never even notices me.

I sit quietly on the journey, looking out the passenger window, lost in my thoughts. I'm just too stubborn, won't give up the little bit of freedom I fought so hard for, but I hate that he ignores me. I want him so bad and he knows very well what he does to me, but I guess this is my punishment. We arrive and I get out of the truck. I watch Negan and Simon deep in conversation. Suddenly he raises his eyes to look directly at me, I turn away but can't resist glancing back. He's still looking. He pats Simon on the back and saunters over to me.

"A word" he puts his hand on my shoulder pulling me aside

"Simon tells me you're doing a great fucking job with the Saviors."

His hand slides up a little, his fingers grazing my neck. He smirks down at me, his tongue escaping over his bottom lip, drawing his thumb lightly over my skin. I visibly shudder. I don't get a chance to reply

"I knew I was fucking right about you." he squeezes gently and starts to move away "Keep up the good work" he bends down to my ear "I'll be keeping my eye on you". He chuckles to himself as he swaggers away

Well that was unexpected. Throughout the day I feel him watching me, observing as I go about my business, loading up, making the odd threat, the usual stuff. A few times our eyes meet, he smirks, bites his lip, or let's his eyes wander over me. I decide to give him something to look at with lots of unnecessary bending over. As I stand guard while the trucks are loaded, I hear his voice behind me.

"Come with me, Ana"

I turn to see him beckoning me with his finger as he walks behind a truck. I follow eagerly. He pulls me towards him, out of view of the Saviors, and leans me against the truck. Moving in close, his hand under my chin, he lifts my face until my eyes meet his.

"You thought any more about my offer?"

"I thought about it a lot" I confess.

His eyes travel over my features as he presses himself towards me. My lips curve into a smirk and I can't resist placing a hand to his thigh, moving slowly, deliberately. His eyes settle on my lips.

"but, I like being out here with the Saviors, with you," my hand slides further up his thigh "I enjoy my work" I give his thigh a squeeze "What if we could make a different arrangement?"

"That's not how this works, princess"

"I'm sure we could work something out" I smile and tilt my head, trailing my lips softly across the skin of his neck, up towards his ear, my hand still wandering firmly upwards.

"You're the boss after all" I cup him, massaging gently "You make the rules"

He doesn't move, allowing me to tease him through the fabric of his jeans, groaning as my fingers move upwards, stroking over his length. I feel him twitch under my hand and grind towards him.

"Don't play fucking games with me princess"

One hand strokes as he grows and swells beneath me, the other moves to his stomach. I smile onto his skin kissing at his neck as my fingers caress above his waistband.

"It's up to you of course though boss, just tell me what you want" my hand lingers at his belt.

He pulls away. Opening the back of the truck he gets inside pulling me with him. Gripping me lightly around the throat with his gloved hand, I quiver as he looks down at me, his eyes darkening.

"What I want is you on your knees with your eyes looking up at mine while I fuck your pretty mouth"

I bite hard on my lip and smirk up at him "I can do that." I pull at his belt, slowly unfastening.

"... and what I want, is for you to stop asking me to be your wife.." I add, sliding my hand inside his boxers, wrapping around his rock hard shaft.

".. and don't call me princess, or doll, or babygirl. My name is Ana, and that's what I want to hear you call when you cum down the back of my throat"

He groans loudly letting go of my neck, and hastily finishes unfastening his belt

"Get on your fucking knees"

I obediently drop to the floor as he takes his massive length in his hand, slowly pumping.

"Now open that fucking dirty mouth nice and wide"

I smirk up at him and do as he commands, sticking out my tongue as he teases me with the tip. My tongue laps around him, curling up under the ridge, along the slit, sliding down the thick throbbing vein as he pumps his hand at the base, and back up to envelope him in my eager mouth. He guides himself in, watching his cock slowly disappear, before letting go to entangle his fingers in my hair.

"look at me, Ana"

He grips my hair tightly and I look up to meet his eyes as I let him set the pace, guiding my head, slowly fucking my mouth. Gradually he builds speed, pushing deeper, my hands go to his hips to steady myself. I listen to his groans as he watches himself moving in and out of my mouth, gagging a little as he hits my throat

"That's it, I want to see you choke on my big cock"

.. And I do. He thrusts a few more times before withdrawing, releasing my hair. He watches me. Licking at the base, cupping him, traveling down, licking and sucking and squeezing gently until he grabs back at my hair bringing my head back up. My tongue lapping hungrily at the glistening head

"Give me it all"

I look up with lust filled eyes as he pushes deep inside, groaning loudly. I moan onto him and he thrusts into me again and again until his head tips back.

"fuck, Ana,.. I'm coming"

He twitches and spasms

"Ana.. Fuck"

His release pours into my throat, I suck and swallow greedily until it subsides and his body stills. Slowly I withdraw, cleaning him, before wiping my mouth.

He looks down, watching me a while, tucking himself away before holding his hand out to help me up

"Goddamn Ana" he closes his eyes and tips head back a little, inhaling deeply before looking back at me.

"Fucks sake. There are only 3 fucking doors to choose from. Rules are fucking rules. What the fuck am I gonna do with you?"

"Whatever you want" I smirk and step out of the truck

He follows close behind. Shaking his head at me he makes his way back over to the Saviors, fastening up his belt.

"Attention fuckers." he announces, as he fastens up his belt. "I am in a great fucking mood. Today, has been a productive damn day. So let's get this shit loaded up and hit the fuckin road, cos I am in need of a sandwich... Where the fuck did Simon get to? "

As he wanders away I chuckle to myself. I wonder if anyone has noticed my swollen bruised lips, and a decidedly less stressed Negan tucking himself away as he walks passed. Not that I care anyway.

Win / win for everyone I'd say.

DIRTY GIRL MASTERLIST

[hellyeahomeland]

“Catch and Release”: an HYH recap

LOL I guess we need to discuss these new opening credits? It’s a real throwback, incorporating some of the more famous images from the first few years of the show, especially young Carrie (also I don’t remember the maze as much the last few years but it was there, and it features heavily this year as well).

Some notable audio clips:

Saul: You had a relationship complicated enough to lie about. Carrie: Yeah, it��s complicated! I lost seven months of my life!

Saul: You will become the focus of an investigation that will define the rest of your life.

Saul: Please God, tell me you haven’t…

(had to include this cap because I’m trash)

So… this should be fun.

The episode opens right where the last one left off. Carrie is visibly disturbed by the site of Yevgeny walking out of G’ulom’s office. She wastes no time asking G’ulom what the hell they were doing there. He plays coy and says they’re just businessmen but Carrie is doing her whole righteous indignation, “New Car Smell” thing. She says he’s got to take back his comments about the POWs. There’s a pointed exchange where Carrie says they’re prisoners of war and G’ulom counters that they’re terrorists and OH MY GOD how much heavier could the Brody parallels get?? Anyway, G’ulom is very unconvinced by Carrie’s argument, which basically boils down to “please?” She seethes the whole way back to the CIA station and says her first mean thing to Jenna this episode.

Later on the phone with Saul, she asks if he knew Yevgeny was there. “Of course not,” Saul says, though I’m not really sure I believe him. But apparently they can’t do shit about this as it was part of the terms of Carrie’s release. Which I guess they forgot to mention in her debrief.

Elsewhere in Afghanistan, Max is talking to the DoD’s version of Siri. His Hot Marines give him all a hair tousle, which he hates (obviously), but which also seems to be some sign of good luck. The nice guy in the hat from the last episode notably does not touch his head, so I’m sure he’ll be dead in 2-4 episodes. Apparently the DoD Siri is better than the real thing because he manages to comb through some conversations of Haqqani talking to his son about ending the war. Saul says this is “black and white” evidence, because as we know everything that happens on this show is “black and white.” He’s convinced that if he could just talk to Haqqani, they could end this war together. This is one of Saul’s more insane plans but it will probably work because: Saul.

Back at the CIA, Carrie’s gotten an “anonymous tip” which is basically a name written in large block letters inside an envelope. She manages to use a computer successfully and discovers the name is of a woman who was involved in a government corruption probe that got ~mysteriously~ shut down when it uncovered actual government corruption. How quaint! Anyway, then her husband was killed in a car bomb that was probably meant for her. So she’s justifiably pissed and probably has dirt on G’ulom that Carrie could use.

Carrie proposes to Mike Dunne an operation wherein they pretend to interview her for a job while Carrie breaks into her apartment to find said dirt. Mike Dunne brilliantly suggests Jenna for the operation since apparently Jenna set up a fake NGO with all her downtime on account of not being let outside. Their conversation goes something like this:

Carrie: Wait, just last week you told me Jenna is sort of an idiot. Mike: I said she was stuck in the starting gate. That is a horse racing analogy. Carrie: [raises eyebrows] Mike: We need her idiocy to add a little drama to this otherwise straightforward operation you’ve devised.

Later, Carrie prepares with Jenna:

Carrie: I’m phrasing this next bit as a rhetorical question with an obvious answer, because I don’t actually believe you know the right answer, because you are an idiot. Jenna: I promise I’m not an idiot. Did Mike say I was a fuck-up? Carrie: No, I said that. Jenna: Oh, right. Carrie: Are you not a fuck-up? Jenna: [blank stare]

Meanwhile, Tasneem is observing the transfer of Taliban POWs from Guantanamo, including one who is carted off on a stretcher. Also Saul is nowhere to be found. Between the ambulance and the “where the FUCK is Saul” of it all, this scene has several of the same elements of the iconique ending of “A Red Wheel Barrow.” Like Carrie then, Tasneem knows something is fishy.

…and something definitely is! Saul’s not back in America like Tim Guinee says. He’s with Haqqani’s cousin, one of the released POWs, trying to convince him to hand deliver a letter to Haqqani in exchange for his immediate freedom.

Saul and Haqqani’s cousin arrive in Peshawar, where Saul hands over the letter to Haqqani, which he then reads via voiceover. It’s all very “A False Glimmer.” He pleads with Haqqani to meet with him, claiming “it’s only the men with guns who can make peace.” Which, I guess?

The next day, Carrie’s operation is a go. Samira leaves right on time for the interview with Jenna’s fake NGO and Carrie and her crew easily break into her apartment. They don’t find much, until Carrie notices a burqa with a USB sewn into the hem. Incriminating evidence sewn into fabric that is discovered at the last moment is my FAVORITE device on this show.

Carrie is victorious in her search but Jenna royally fucks up the interview, because she’s an idiot (and a fuck-up, apparently), revealing that she knows about the “audit” Samira took part in. Jenna, you literally had one job! To her credit, Samira realizes what’s going on almost instantly and then takes a photo of Jenna. We have to stan!!

Samira doesn’t get away though. They abduct her and take her back to the CIA station, cuff her, and throw a hood over her head. Carrie is enraged, claiming they’ve just traumatized her all over again and now she definitely won’t talk. After a few seasons of getting a hood thrown over her head, Carrie sympathizes.

She does her best “here’s the lay of the land” with Samira and gets her to tell her the significance of the documents on the USB drive. Samira wants G’ulom arrested and says she can wait two more years, or even twenty, to take down G’ulom. Carrie knows the best they can do is just cut him at the knees by advancing the peace deal. In the end, she convinces her.

Carrie calls Saul from a big abandoned building, location unknown, which is supposed to be an army base. Key phrase: “supposed to be.” Samira’s documents show evidence of an entirely fabricated Afghan Army battalion. That’s right, G’ulom is a scammer! He’s been funneling millions of dollars meant for the Army base into his own pocket for years. Incredulous, Carrie exclaims, “We’ve been enabling this motherfucker for 18 years! What is wrong with us?”

In Rawalpindi, Tasneem pays a visit to her retired stepfather Bunny (last seen in season four). He’s fallen asleep in his massive garden shooting squirrels with a pistol. The neighbors are complaining.

Tasneem: If you took down the bird feeders, the squirrels would stop eating the bird seeds. Bunny: I prefer this. Also, that’s not fair to the birds. Tasneem: Is this a metaphor? [Later] Tasneem: Stepdad, I think Saul is up to no good. If he talks to Haqqani directly, there could be a real breakthrough. Bunny: Unacceptable. We must control everything. Tasneem: How far am I allowed to go then? Bunny: The Americans hate us and our God. Go as fucking far as you please. Tasneem: Coolio, it’s murder time. 

Wearing a nice set of gold bar earrings, Carrie is back in G’ulom’s office, presenting him with a slew of incriminating evidence about his scam. He has two hours to walk back the statements before she shares the papers with his own government, who’d likely have him killed. Finally she has leverage, but G’ulom still manages to give a menacing speech about how peace will be terrible for everyone. Carrie doesn’t relent.

Poor Max has not gotten any alone time at the Army base in Afghanistan, but he has realized that the ISI definitely know that Saul is in Peshawar. Apparently the Taliban does as well. Twist of twists, the ISI aren’t preparing to hit him, they’re preparing to hit Haqqani. Saul yells at the Taliban’s convoy to stop but it’s too late. Amid the panic, Saul is abducted again. I honestly cannot. How many times has this been? This was not the Homeland Greatest Hits I had in mind.

Later, Carrie is stomping her way through the streets of Kabul. She ends up at a bar with the rest of the crew. She says something encouraging to Jenna and orders a “soda water,” both of which are not things I would have expected Carrie to do. Mike Dunne is like, Carrie when the fuck are you gonna leave? Carrie does a cute lil’ shrug and randomly asks where the bathroom is.

That’s right, we needed Carrie alone and somewhat lost because YEVGENY IS BACK. Somehow he looks even hotter than last week. Apparently he gave the anonymous tip, which makes no sense.

Yevgeny: I thought you were gonna thank me. *wink wink* Carrie: I am so confused. Yevgeny: Who else would have done something so nice for you? *wink wink* Carrie: I am maximum confused. Yevgeny: Don’t play dumb. *wink wink* Carrie: I am more confused now than that time I saw a screensaver. Yevgeny: Hey, maybe we could go to Banana Joe’s together? *wink wink* [fades into darkness]

The episode closes somewhat awesomely with Saul, still blindfolded, entering a cement fortress. The blindfold comes off, his beard looks raggedy. I’ve seen this all before. Haqqani walks in. He’s not dead. Saul’s thanking the heavens, and then Haqqani smacks him across the face with a rifle. Cut to black. *chef’s kiss*

[imaginesnkdorks]

Thank Goodness for Crazy

Part IX: To Infinity and Beyond  | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 |

Pairing: Erwin/Reader

Summary: That time Erwin got jealous, and the first time our hero went on an expedition beyond the walls

The trip back was entertaining – at least for me. Theo filled me in on how life was within the walls. Turned out this world within the wall is a little like how I imagined North Korea to be. Of course, most of these people can’t tell, but I have the feeling that the history they are being taught from childhood is fabricated.

There are just too many holes that it doesn’t answer, mainly the origin of titans. Theo is one of those who just either naively believe or just couldn’t give a damn.

Oh, I am totally thankful that Theo is talkative – he didn’t ask me many questions about my life.

The moment we got back, we are off to training. Since Theodore is simply clueless about our craft, they have to train him on the most basic of things, even though he is supposedly a “Squad Leader”. But we all know it’s just a title. I mean, first off he bought it, second there are only four squad leaders and he’s an extra, lastly, there isn’t even a squad for him to lead. It doesn’t seem like he minds, though.

“Erwin!” I called out while running towards him. Honestly, I haven’t seen him since we left the party.

“Andi. I see that shadow of a man isn’t clinging on to you today.”

“Shadow? What, you mean Theo?”

“Theo? I didn’t know you two were that close.” He said in a tone so cold. What the hell? Seeing as he’s in such a bad mood – must be the stress of the coming expedition – I decided to just ask him my question and get this over with.

“Well, we are. Anyways are we still on for training? You promised you’ll teach me how to use the blades, and how to maintain the gear.”

He smiled, though I can’t exactly tell why but for sure it wasn’t a smile out of happiness. Before he could say anything, though Theo appeared.

“Andi! I’ve been looking all over for you. Come and have breakfast with me.” He said as he sashayed over to me and Erwin. “Oh, Erwin, was it?”

“Yes, Lord Van Rumpade.” Erwin said bitterly, the smile swiped off his face.

“Oh, no need to be so formal. We’re fellow squad leaders.” I guess it wasn’t only me who found this funny as I saw Erwin sneak an eye roll at that, but Theo wasn’t finished yet. “Join us for breakfast?” He said in his charming way, dazzling us with his unbelievably white teeth in a world with no whitening strips and high-tech dental stuff.

“I’m afraid I can’t. There are still preparations I have to see through.” And then he just turned away and left me with Richie rich. I guess that’s a no for our training. Even though I know I would mostly just whine all day while we train, I can’t help but feel disappointed.

           The following days, I was taught how to handle blades and to maintain a 3DM gear. Also, I started learning more about titans. Who else could teach me well other than Hange? I tuned out so much of her long speeches before that I have to suffer through them again, only this time I should really pay attention.

           In a month, I am a professional at both combat and 3DM gear. I now know by heart where to slice a titan, I know very well how to ride a horse and I also learned first aid. It was depressing, though, their first aid. Turns out a lot of injuries and diseases which are treatable back home, are deadly here.

           It’s unbelievable how fast my progress was. I’d say, I have a knack for violence.

           With the expedition only a few weeks away, I am putting double effort in everything that I do in hopes of Erwin giving me the go signal.

           Speaking of Erwin, even though we live right next to each other, I barely saw him. It’s because he’s always at meetings. I, on the other hand, am always training, or with Theo who won’t leave me alone. I admit I was stunned when I first saw him. The infatuation eventually wore off after seeing how much of a baby he is. But I still can’t tell him to leave me alone, I mean he paid us so he could stay, also I think it’s kind of my fault that he chose us.

           “Andi. Where’s Theodore? Not clinging on to you today?”

           What the hell? I felt my forehead knot in frustration the moment Erwin finished. Seriously, every time I run into him, he’s always like this and then he’ll be gone before I could even respond.

But the expedition is more important, so despite my irritation, I decided to just roll my eyes and ignore his questions. And I grabbed his arm before he could run away to who knows where.

           “I want to join the expedition.”

           “You just started training two months ago.”

           “Ugh! Is that a yes, or a no?”

           “You’re not yet ready.”

           “I’m better than a number of soldiers already!”

           “You haven’t beaten me once every time we spar. If you can’t handle me, a Titan is too much.”

           “Last time we sparred, I’ve only been training for a month. It’s different now.”

           “Oh, really?”

           I hate this. I hate it when people doubt me. In my irritation, my idiot side took control of my mouth.

           “If I’m not ready, then I’ll die. It doesn’t matter. I want to go.” See? When I say idiot, I really mean it.

           Erwin gave me a glare that could probably kill me, but I stood my ground. I won’t falter. This is the adventure that I’ve been waiting for! I stared back at him as intensely as I could. It honestly became a staring contest.

           “Alright. But you won’t leave my side. Understand?”

           Yes, sir!” I said, letting go of his arm. I then pounded my chest with my right hand – as best as I could as I am fairly big chested – and gave my very first salute.

-------

           You’ll know it if it’s the day of an expedition, or better yet you’ll feel it in the air. A sense of dread hangs in the air, and it’s really depressing. Almost every soldier is silent, although some are abuzz with nervous energy. Even though I’m quite confident, their attitude is very infectious. Soon enough, anxiety crept in into my system.

           I can’t help but be amazed by Theodore’s confidence. He’s the only one who seems to be excited. But it’s probably because he doesn’t know what to expect.

           We soon arrived at Shiganshina where the outermost gate is located. Well, technically there are three other gates that go out the wall, but they just seem to like using this one that’s leading towards the south.

           I’m on my horse, Max, and right beside me is Erwin. I plan on fulfilling my promise about sticking to him, I feel like I’ll be safer that way.

           I’ve been staring blankly ahead, at the sea of green capes and wings of freedom crest. The gates take a long time to open. Uncle Keith chose this to give a pep talk, which I could hardly hear over the murmurs of bystanders and soldiers alike.

           “Nervous?” Erwin asked, raising a thick eyebrow.

           “No.” He smiled at that, but in a way that shows that he doesn’t believe me. Well, I admit I was lying. I am nervous, who wouldn’t? Even though I literally asked for this, I can’t help but be anxious – it’s like riding a roller coaster.

           When the gate finally opened, uncle Keith gave the go signal and we all valiantly rode our horses. I sang FOB’s Centuries in my head, making me feel like I’m some kind of hero with a theme. But then I realized that it’s not really making me feel good, especially the line some turn to dust. I definitely don’t want that.

I kind of expected that there would be titans right outside, waiting for us. But it took a couple of minutes before we encountered the first one. The team at the rear promptly dispatched it.

I hoped that this is how my first expedition would be: a few titans roaming, and some that we run into are instantly killed, we then prance around on our horses the end. But no, that’s not how it is over here.

Not even ten feet from the first titan, two more appeared. And two out of the five soldiers that attacked were eaten. After that, we encountered more and more soldiers got eaten in their attempt to kill the damn giants.

“Why do we approach them head-on?”  I yelled at Erwin. The goal of this mission is lost to me because with what’s happening, I can say that our mission is to die for humanity period. Nothing gained, we just die. I mean, puny little humans like us attack big ass titans on sight.

Instead of answering, Erwin just clicked his tongue and commanded us to ride in a closer pack. I now understand more why in movies and tv shows, the high-ranking officers are always old people. Those of position just yell out the command, while the nobodies jump to their deaths.

Was I a very unlucky nobody.

           “Two Titans approaching from the rear!” Pieter yelled.

           “One is a six-meter titan, the other a twelve-meter!” Supplemented Esme. Now, the announcement of titan’s presence isn’t creepy itself, what scared me was that these two soldiers are right behind me. I turned to look at Erwin, who was unbelievably calm while giving orders.

           “Ready your blades.”

           One thing you must know; this squad of Erwin’s is a bunch of veterans. Also, there are four team leaders under him, one of them is Hange. Since Hange is a team leader, even though she’s directly under Erwin, she’s in a different part of the convoy.

           Anyhow, I followed his orders and readied my blade. Since we are nearest these titans, it’s our goal to finish them off now.

           Honestly, this moment was a blur. I don’t know, it must be the adrenaline. But my fuzzy memories tell me that I helped in eliminating the titans, though one of us got his leg bitten off. Being the newbie, I was assigned to treat Damien. While the others were finishing off the last titan, I tended to the injured soldier.

           His thigh was ripped in half as there’s where the titan bit him. I felt queasy, but I tried to do my job. Tried is the keyword because my asshole teammates just happened to land the killing blow on the 12-meter titan whose torso fucking landed on Damien, and almost on me.

           I’d like to save you from the gory details, but next time you eat spaghetti with meatballs, crush the meatballs. That’s what I saw. I’d say being eaten by a titan isn’t the worst way to die.

           “Andi! Andi, get yourself together!” Erwin was shaking me. I guess this is something that would scare me for life.

           Next thing I know is I’m back on my horse going towards where ever the commander tells us to.

           Setting camp for the night, everyone who wasn’t injured or dead are busy salvaging any bodies that could still be taken home while some were like me who are treating the injured. There are a lot of missing and crushed limbs. Turns out having a titan fall on you is a common way to die or be injured.

           It was almost sunset by the time I finished up. I walked and ended up where uncle Keith is.

           He has a map with him, on which he is jotting down notes. I sat down beside him, feeling exhausted all of the sudden.

           “What’s our goal, really?” I asked in a silent whisper.

           I looked around, and in between clusters of bandaged soldiers are bodies on the grounds waiting to be loaded on wagons. Even the horses looked fewer.

           “You already know it.” He answered, not even bothering to look up.

           “Secure bases for advancement beyond the walls. But why aren’t we doing it?”

           That has got his attention because he focused on me with too much intensity I almost regret being born. “We aren’t doing it? Do you think these soldiers died for nothing? For a silly quest?” I was almost too tempted to tell him to chill, but I’m just too tired both physically and mentally.

           “We could run from titans and not attack them head-on. That’s what people have been doing for the last century.” I thought back to how I played video games – like pokemon. I always avoid the trainers; I walk behind them or when they are not looking. I guess that could be done by us and it will save a lot of lives and reach our goal at the same time.

           “You’ve been spending too much time with Erwin.”

           And our conversation was over.

           The rest of the expedition was a haze. I killed a few titans, though I wasn’t able to celebrate my first kill. It’s like I operated on instincts; my mind was blank and I kept jumping and slicing. It was almost robotic. I know it’s bad, but I think my autopilot tried to be the hero. I pulled people from titan’s mouths, I pulled some who are about to be crushed. I am honestly surprised I survived.

By the time we are to go back inside the walls, our numbers are almost cut in half.

           The trip home was also ridden with more casualties. We soon reached Shiganshina and there wasn’t any Hero’s Welcome. We were hackled and mocked. But I’m too tired to feel anything about it.

           The moment we got back to HQ, I went straight to my room after leaving Max in the stables. No tears came though. I was just sitting on my bed staring at the bare floor. Then someone bust in my room.

           “Erwin.”

“How are you holding up?”

That was when tears started flowing down. I couldn't stop. I was shaking and sobbing. Then I felt his arms around me, trying to console me. You know what's sad? It's not just seeing people die or get eaten. It's not death itself. I'm used to death, people die all the time. The news back home was full of it.

The difference this time is that these people who died are not just numbers on a statistics report. They are my colleagues - people that I actually know. They are names and faces to me, not just numbers. Erwin didn't say anything. He didn't tell me that it will be okay. He' not giving me empty promises. Honestly, this hug alone is enough.

“I should have turned back. I could've saved some people. I ...”

He suddenly broke the hug and held me at arm's length, looking at me straight in the eye.

“Stop. Don't blame yourself. If you start regretting your decision, you will start to doubt yourself. You'll let others decide for you, so stop. None of it is your fault.”

He said, concern evident in his eyes. I know he's right, of course, he is. And it would be wise for me to follow his advice. Too bad I'm such a baby, though.

“Ok.”

I lied. Because I know who I’ll be dreaming of tonight If I ever get sleep. Guilt is still eating at me.

He stayed with me that night until I stopped crying, which is apparently when I fell asleep.

[arbeaone]

ShellsuitZombie Magazine Issue 2 Published on July 26, 2011

[ View larger version here ] Text from the article can be read below. (There may be some errors.)

I, BOLLO

One spectacularly sunny lunchtime, ShellsuitZombie managed to hunt down a rare Gorilla only common to Clerkenwell London. Dave Brown, most famous for his role as Bollo in The Mighty Boosh, spends most of his time as a designer and photographer producing (alongside Boosh work like 2008s spectacularly successful 'The Mighty Book of Boosh') beautiful printed staff for clients like Universal and the BBC, as well as of course the odd performance to tens of thousands on arena tours around the country. It's safe to say we were feeling pretty smug about trapping him in a pub in Clerkenwell (which happens to be just below his studio) for a pint and a chat about Design, the future of Boosh, Noel's new book and photographing Julian Barratt and villagers in Ghana.

SSZ: So Dave/Bollo, what would you consider to be your main job?

Dave: I guess I consider myself to be a creative, the Boosh started as something I did with my mates as a laugh and it blew up into something huge. I've always had to juggle the worlds of and Design, quite often for me they overlap, obviously when you're out on tour it's all consuming but even then I've been known to be sat in my hotel room on a squeezing the odd freelance job in.

So you've always been freelance?

I couldn't be full time, in the early days I needed the freedom to be able to drop everything and get involved in a Boosh project at the drop of a hat, so freelance was perfect, then just before the first live Boosh tour in 2006 I did something I'd always wanted to do and set up my own agency, aptly named Ape, with a mind to be more of a collective of creatives rather then just a sole trader It allows me to get all the amazing creatives I've had the pleasure of meeting and working with over the years involved as and when I can on all kinds of creative projects.

It's been pretty full on since to be honest, so full on in fact that I haven't even had time to launch the website! It always gets pushed to the bottom of the to do list when I'm busy and then when I find the time to get back to it I've gone off everything I've done and start again. There's a holding page up at the moment that says 'Gorillas can use up to 52 different tools.They're currently using those tools to build this site'. Well they're obviously rubbish at using them because it's taking them bloody ages to finish!

Would you say Boosh has helped the rest of your career?

I guess so, although you could also say it's got in the way. I am doing a lot of books now as a result of the Boosh book but many of my clients haven't a clue who I am. I've done work for Feame Cotton, Ben Brooks, James Rhodes, Nick Cave and recently comedian Tim Key as a result of the book and Boosh work in general. BBC books actually just rang and asked me if I'd be interested in designing this years Top Gear guide to Christmas book! They've approached me because they said they loved the Boosh book and would like my take on things. Will be great if that's true but I'm not counting my chickens just yet. I recently did an interview with Radio 4 where I went on a massive rant about Jeremy Clarkson's stonewashed pumpkin arse not fitting into my Morris Minor so if they get wind of that it could be off ! (Ed.- Since doing this interview Dave has stepped away from the Top Gear job due to, shall we say, creative differences)

It sounds like books are your bread and butter. How do you go about designing a successful book like ‘TMBOB’?

I don't have a process, I approach everything from an idea, every brief is obviously different and I design to that, so it's a bit worrying when people say 'I love the Boosh book, can you do that for me?' - I interpret that as can you adopt a similar way of approaching the brief rather than making it look exactly like the Book of Boosh. The Boosh book was designed around the characters really, the style and feel of each page born from an idea in the writing and from the vibrancy and diversity of the show, a 4 column grid with a consistent type style was obviously never going to work!

The Boosh book sold incredibly well, largely due to the popularity of the show, but we were also very keen to not just make it a standard off the shelf spin off shitty annual like most TV show books. Like all Boosh product, we're very hands on, mostly doing it ourselves and we dedicate time and effort to make sure the final product is worthy of the show. That's pretty unique to be honest I think this attention to detail and quality control is what makes our fans so insanely loyal. We haven't done anything new in ages but the books and DVD's are still selling, purely down to the quality of the design of course!

Surely not everyone just wants you for your Boosh?

No, like I said, I have a fair few clients that don't know I'm in the Boosh, in fact, awhile ago when I was still freelancing, one client left me in charge of their studio before getting on a flight to New York, on the flight they watched a Boosh ep and saw me playing Joey Moose in the first series. They were like 'Is that the guy we just... what the fuck?'

Bollo has played to some huge crowds...

Yeah the last tour we did was insane, Wembley Arena, multiple nights at Brixton, selling out the 02 two nights on the trot, it's been a crazy time and I'm so lucky to have had those experiences, it is hard after a touring sitting back at a computer designing but I get my kicks out of the creative and I still keep a toe in show business with a bit of directing, writing and the odd gig here and there. To be honest it's hard trying to keep it all up and sometimes I wish I just had one job to do. Design isn't exactly a part time job is it! and I've also just had a baby girl, so lets just say I'm pretty tired and exhausted at the moment, I'm smiling though, honest.

What are you up to at the moment?

At the moment I'm working on a book with Noel called The Scribblings of a Madcap Shambleton, not Boosh related, it's basically a book about Noel’s art and writing and I'm design and compiling it. There's also a lot of my photography in it. It's a visual bombardment of Noel's mind really, paintings, sketchbooks, scribbling, it's looking amazing. He's pretty prolific, such a huge body of work. He's been painting for years, unlike some famous freaks who get a set of colouring pencils for Christmas and decide through boredom that they're now an artist. Noel can actually paint his tits off and does so every moment he gets and has done for years so at the moment I'm trying to get 530 pages down to 320! What's really interesting about the work when you see it all together is that you can see how he writes to inspire his painting and he paints to inspire his writing, I know I'm biased but I love his stuff if you haven't seen it think Basquiat, Haring, DeBuffet, Magritte, Hockney, Aubrey Beardsley...

So are there any plans in the pipeline for the Boosh?

Well everyone's working on separate things at the moment Noel is busy doing his own show 'Noel Fielding's Luxury Comedy' and Julian is doing a Russian play at the Young Vic 'Government Inspector'. Those two have pretty much become Howard and Vince.

The last thing we were working on was the album. I was told when I last heard it about 3 months ago that it was 90% done and it sounded immense then so no idea what's going on! It has all the tracks from the show reworked, longer and better as well as new ones written for characters, I reckon they all stand up in their own right, even if you'd never seen the Boosh I still reckon you could get into it, the new Crack Fox track is incredible! It's a great album, people should have it in their ear holes right now.

People always ask if The Boosh have split up, I guess it’s inevitable when nothing new has happened in a while but we haven't and stuff will again, Noel and Julian do things when they're ready, they've produced so much material over the years, they're just having a break at the mo. There's still loads of stuff on the table that's never seen the light of day, but they'll do it when they're ready and when they do it will be great. They just need to find out where that table is...

Is the passion still there?

Yeah of course, always will be, for them and for me. You always come back stronger after a holiday, just maybe a little sunburnt, haha.

So I hear you're involved in some charity work. Fancy talking about that for a bit?

Yes, I love talking about it! I have just become an ambassador for afrikids.org, A freaking ambassador! Afrikids is a charity focusing on child rights in Northern Africa - They've been an absolute joy to work with, I've done some fundraising for them as Bollo, I've rebranded them, not as Bollo, and I even got the opportunity to spend some time in Ghana last year seeing their projects firsthand. I was filming and taking stills for their library, it was an incredible experience - it sounds clichéd and worthy saying it was life changing but it was. The Upper East region of Ghana is an amazing place, the people are beautiful, many of them have next to nothing and yet they're so welcoming, so happy, so positive and an absolute joy to photograph. From a portraiture point of view it was incredible. You expect a certain amount of shyness or self awareness from someone when you stick a big camera in their face but everyone there was so natural and un-effected. They would just look right down the lens without a hint of embarrassment or effect. I couldn't stop taking pictures. I need to go back, there's a chance I will be involved in an ambulance convoy driving donated medical vehicles and equipment from Southampton to Bolgatanga in Northern Ghana next year, imagine the photographic opportunity there! There's a book in that... If I could do anything I'd be travelling the world taking pictures

How does that compare to shooting backstage on tour?

Worlds apart in terms of there being more more booze, hairspray and ... erm ... humous but actually not that different from a photographic point of view, it’s still about getting yourself in the right place, sensing when to be anonymous and when to get in amongst it. I'm lucky with the Boosh obviously because I'm an insider, it means everyone acts as if there wasn't a camera around, except Rich of course who turns into a complete psycho, nutjob, showoff whenever any recording equipment appears. He's a shy introvert mouse normally!

The trouble with me taking all the backstage Boosh shots is that I'm never in any of them, but then when we get photographers out on tour to shoot us I always feel for them because they usually get nothing! Especially when they're big personalities and act all crazy and hyper like that's what we react to! I always smile to myself and think 'you're not going to get anything here mate, especially from Julian' He rarely gives me anything photographically let alone a strange cool cat called Moses in his silly hat and mad trainers wondering why in every shot he has of Julian he's talking or eating!

I can imagine him being a pain in the arse

Not at all, well, maybe just a little every now and then but aren't we all? He's also the most truthful loyal down the line no shit guy you'll ever meet, he's also fucking hilarious and one of the best comic actors out there.

How did you meet?

Me, Noel and Nige (Boosh animator and co creator of Noels new show) went to see Julian do standup at uni - he was fucking amazing. Noel had wanted to go in for an award which Julian had won the year before, the daily telegraph open mic award, so thats why we saw him ... I think ... but then they met in Edinburgh and both got signed to the same management company and started writing together. Then they did three years in Edinburgh before the radio and TV shows. Being there from the off means I have photography all the way back to the source, I plan to do an exhibition and book some day of the lot, maybe next year, I think it’s 10 years since the first series? I may be wrong, my mind is mash, too much humous on tour.

OK We have some questions from ShensuitZombie readers. Graeme asks: Where are you keeping the severed head of the honey monster*?

* After a Sugar Puffs advert used a similar crimping style to the Boosh, Bollo exacted his revenge on the brand’s iconic beast live on tour.

Ha, I don't know where that is. It's probably behind a bin backstage somewhere in a Scottish theatre. The last gig on our last tour was in Aberdeen, I don't know whose fucking idea that was. It was a great gig and the people were amazing but we it did feel a bit of anti climax, although the journey back to London was ridiculous, it felt like it was half an hour! The honey monster head, I don't know, it's probably in Peter Kay's bed, discuss.

Holly asks: Do you find yourself grunting and acting like a primate after being onstage?

It's the most powerful thing to be in that costume, and acting it - especially in real life situations, I've found that out when I've been doing charity work, fundraising in banks and stuff, getting in lifts and acting nonchalant amongst business men and women. Some people react well and have a laugh, embrace it, others desperately try to ignore the fact that they're standing in a lift with Gorilla, others have massive heart attacks and die at my primate feet. It's weird for kids because they either run up and cuddle you or freeze, have meltdowns and are forever scared.

A friend recently did a film with John Landis [Director of American Werewolf in London and Thriller] who is apparently obsessed with monkey impersonators. He has a room in his house dedicated to all the monkey actors of the world and reckons he can tell who is in any monkey suit in any film anywhere. So he asked my mate for a signed photo of Bollo and I had to send him a strange signed shot like those ones you see in New York dry cleaners. Still, now I know I'm in John Landis's monkey room I sleep better at night.

John asks: In the Bollo Cadburys ad parody is it you in the suit*?

** If you don’t know what this is referring to, look here: tinyurl.com/bollocadburys

Of course it is, how very dare you suggest otherwise...

Which is your favourite episode?

Milky Joe is awesome, I love Nanageddon and Old Gregg and in series 3 it's got to be Eels. It’s tough to pick a favourite, I genuinely piss myself at most of them even when I watch them back now.

Is anything ad-libbed?

Yeah, have you met Rich? Ever tried to get him to say the same line twice! It's always where the best stuff comes from, harder in TV land but on tour it’s encouraged and is always where the gold comes from, also keeps you alive, when you're doing 6 shows a week for four or so months you need to keep it fresh.

In fact, there was one thing that Bollo had to do in the live show, rolling a big prop offstage. One day the caster caught and I stacked it, incidentally ripping my leg open in the process. It got the biggest laugh of the night so I carried on doing it for the rest of the tour!

Thanks Dave, it's been sweet.

No worries, nice to meet you.

And with that, like an ape in the woods, he was gone. 

Check out Dave's site - www.apeinc.co.uk

Dave took hundreds of photos of Ghanaians on his recent trip with Afrikids, a charity for whom he is ambassador.

[archerdeafenedmoved]

okay, just some quick bullet points on like... what some of the things i’ll pull from the mcu in regard to age of ul.tron, ci.vil war, infinity w.ar, and en.dg.ame. the endg.ame shit is gong to be under a read more.

clint does have a family at the farmhouse (which for ease i’m headcanoning as clint’s childhood home that he bought back once he started working for shield as a safe house). however, after discussing it with arrowedaim, i’ve decided they are not a biological family, nor is he married to laura. instead, the kids seen at the farmhouse are kids that clint has adopted from various bad situations. 

i was toying with the idea of laura being a shield agent clint previously was in a relationship with. and with the idea of using that plot from the brave where clint convinces his commanding officers to out one of his team as a spy to save her life by hitting the convoy as they transport her to an execution site, but.... i do really love anna’s idea of laura being a foster mother and social assistant. so... hmmmm. i’ll figure this point out later.

he does try retirement for about two weeks after aou. he gives it his best shot. but he can’t just sit around in iowa for the rest of his life. being a shield agent and avenger is basically all he knows. so he comes out of retirement well before civil war. he’d been running relatively easy ops for maria hill and fury (because fuck it. shield is still active. they’re just more secretive than they’ve been before.) for a while when steve calls him. 

the raft is hell for clint. i’ll repost that thing from my archive later. after the raft, he goes on the run with steve for a while before ultimately deciding to work out a deal with the us government. i usually have clint as having more freedom than being confined to the farmhouse. he’s allowed to move ‘freely’ around the state of new york, so long as tony, vision, or rhodey are in the state. between the three of them, he’s always covered. but he’s not allowed to engage in any vigilante activity. if he does (which he does obviously. it’s clint) and is caught, he will be put back on the raft. 

in addition, he’s allowed to travel back to the farmhouse to spend time with his family. at the farmhouse, he is under proper house arrest. he’s not allowed to travel further than his mailbox. he isn’t allowed to go within fifty yards of the treeline in the backyard. if he’s planning to go back to new york, he must let the agents tasked with monitoring him know. he’s escorted all the way back to new york. 

now, in infinity war, he’s working with/training with maya lopez, aka ronin. he’s been tasked by fury and/or hill to train potential members for the secret avengers. the full list of potential avengers is to be determined (i’m really leaning toward marc s.pector as being one other potential recruit?? because i love him??), but maya is the first. after two(?) years, they’ve become very close. and then thanos snaps his fingers. maya and marc disappear before clint’s eyes. he calls the farmhouse and gets no answer. he tries calling for hours and hours and hours, just hoping the kids and laura were out, but he gets no answer. it takes him nearly two weeks to travel from new york to iowa post snap. he knows before he ever pulls into the driveway that they’re gone, but he has to see for himself.

not sure how long he stays at the farmhouse post snap, trying to wrap his head around things, but he does not go running around the gcddamn globe murdering people. that’s not how he copes with the loss of what he assumes is everyone he’s ever cared about (because you cannot fucking tell me he would do any of the shit he did if he knew that at least some of his friends survived). 

post snap, clint decides to do what he knows best. he decides to continue helping people, running ‘missions’ himself. he takes on the ronin mantle, wears maya’s mask, and uses her katana. but he also bases the design of his new persona’s costume off of marc as well, sort of. black (with maya’s streaks of gold) instead of white because clint.... does not have that much of a death wish. but he incorporates marc’s hood, the body armor beneath marc’s ridiculous outfit. he also carries the truncheon that didn’t turn to ash with marc for closer combat situations. 

he does go after organized crime like in the movie. but as i said in the first bullet point below this read more, he doesn’t murder those criminals. he’s got absolutely no qualms about permanently disabling them though. he’s blinded many. paralyzed others. deafened a few. he ultimately leaves criminal justice to the governments of those criminals. he just pulls a daredevil and ‘gift wraps’ them.

i’ll write up more about the rest of end.game once i get a chance to see it again. 

[awkwarddystopianwarlord]

Convoying For “Freedom”

Since I don’t watch the news, I didn’t know why I heard a honking ruckus three blocks down. When I eventually ventured out with friends that Saturday I could finally see what said ruckus was. Trucks and cars honking as they drove through the city and all the way to the Parliament building. I didn’t know that’s where they were going until we made our way towards the touristy part of town. That whole block along with the entire front of the Parliament building was full of people and trucks and posters and flags. The honking was everywhere and the dogs and infants these folks thought would be smart to bring into that chaos looked around in confusion. It was brought to my attention by my three friends, that don’t live in as much of a bubble as I do, the hullabaloo we were witnessing was known as the “Freedom Convoy”.

Now that it’s been over a month since this stupid idiot parade began, I reckon we all know why to some extent. I heard multiple times that ninety percent of truckers were vaccinated thus leaving me to believe this was the remaining ten plus every other ignoramus that wants to live by their own rules. People were insulted that vaccines were required for those driving long distances and over borders with all the bullshit we keep ordering online. People were tired of wearing a piece of cloth over their face to protect themselves and those around them from various forms of this cursed virus. People wanted all the mandates to be taken down so they could freely infect and possibly kill all the immunocompromised, the old, the young, and the sick. It was a weekly rebellion to show the world every Saturday who the most selfish people are.

Seeing these foolish mortals strut around with their Canadian flags and “freedom” banners was hilarious and infuriating. These people had the audacity to claim we had a tyrannical government that was oppressing us and all our rights were taken away. They said this as they casually flooded the yard of a government building and filled the downtown area with their incessant honking, none of which brought consequences. We’re apparently living in a 1984-Big-Brother-is-watching/Hunger-Games/Nazi-era-part-two situation and yet these people could protest without getting arrested or shot or gassed or tasered. These self identifying  oppressed people brought concert worthy speakers to the front of that Parliament building three weeks in and were having a dance party to classic 2000’s songs whilst police patiently and politely stood on the other side of the street and watched should someone get riled up. The fact this parade of absolute dickishness has been allowed to continue every Saturday, now with officers following along to keep the peace, shows how much of a free country this is.

Referring to my previous post, it’s like these nincompoops want to be oppressed, want to have an evil government that forces the peasants to take arms and rise up to protect what they love and believe in at all costs. These assholes are so privileged that they think our current state of living is the same as Nazi Germany. They think having to wear a mask indoors and getting vaxxed to work so that the pandemic can pipe the fuck down is oppression. And now, what with the horrors in Ukraine going on, this whole thing is even more asinine and insensitive. To be so butt-hurt that the government is more strict now for the purpose of saving lives and helping relieve the pressure on essential workers speaks volumes about how little some care about anyone but themselves.

There’s a reason everyone is short staffed right now. It’s because serving ungrateful, selfish bastards like those making up that wretched convoy broke the employees. Now healthcare is shit because it’s near impossible to find a clinic or a doctor to help with anything. Retail is shit because there are limited cashiers and merchandisers to help so lines are long and dealing with stock is slow. And those remaining are treated like shit. Because the same pieces of garbage that sucked the life out of the first wave of workers get mad and impatient that they can’t have everything they want delivered in the span of a second.

It’s a privileged mindset to think that having a very difficult, worldwide problem to solve won’t require sacrifices and hardships of the everyday person. It's even more privileged a mindset to think that the inconvenience of wearing a mask is worthy of massive protests. Sure vaccines are their own can of worms, but you have people preaching about their love for this country as they call for mild anarchy that are willing to do anything for their “lost freedom”. Yet they aren’t willing to do anything to help save humanity and end the suffering that has ruined so many of us? There is no proper logic or research that can fuel a valid argument for these people so this show of Canadian Pride featuring: to Hell With Canada has no proper foundation and is all for naught.

In the end it’s just a herd of stereotypically southern American farmers but they’re actually Canadian in Canada whining about the pandemic being bad and blaming all the wrong people for that. As a result the Canadian flag is just as annoying to look at as the American one since it’s a challenge to separate the flag from the fools. So congratulations convoy crew, you’ve made me, an American/Canadian half breed, unable to be proud of either country I’m a citizen of. Thanks a lot.