#seriously that angle they panned on him for that shot is so funny

[bee-in-a-box]

I watched Pants on Fire 2014 and it was literally so bad, but at least it gave me Bradley Steven Perry sitting in a chair like Shinji

#Kaz after Mighty Med got blown up probably idk #Tyrel Jackson Williams was also there but there sadly isn't too much to say about him #they gave him THE blandest character to play it was really disappointing since he's such a good actor #I did like the parts where bradley steven perry's character talked to the audience like he was ferris bueller #even tho they ditched that bit halfway through the film #but like he played it so well cuz like a ferris bueller type character is really hard to pull off #but he understood the assignment so good for him #lab rats #mighty med #lab rats elite force #bradley steven perry #kaz mm #kaz mighty med #pants on fire #seriously that angle they panned on him for that shot is so funny

[patheticlittlemen]

ALL ABOUT ME

[Kurt Kunkle x female reader]

Chapter 2- Are You Bored Yet?

Words: 2111

Warnings: Little bit NSFW, non-graphic sex scene

A/N: There’s some messaging included so here’s a guide for future reference (your username is doodlesgalore)

(username): Youtube

(username)> instagram

(Name): text

Rick is still sleeping peacefully by the time you wake. You get up and decide to make breakfast, quietly walking into the kitchen. You put in your headphones and start pulling out ingredients to make omelets. Normally you would play a podcast, but you’re caught up on all your favorites. Scrolling through youtube, you see a notification.

KurtsWorld- Trying boba for the first time!

You’re absolutely intrigued. Clicking on the video, you see that it was posted just an hour ago and there were 2 views. After the ads play, you set your phone up and start preparing ingredients.

The video starts with Kurt walking down the street. It’s a bit windy so you have a hard time hearing what he’s saying but luckily he goes into a building and you can hear him.

“So today I’m at the new boba shop that just opened up in Azusa! Join me while I try it for the first time!”

You can’t help but smile. He doesn’t have great camera presence but he sure is excited. You go to the fridge and hear a lot of rustling from the video. After grabbing what you need, you go back to the video and replay what you missed. You hear him repeat the end of the sentence and he puts the camera in his pocket. The video continues like that for about 15 seconds and finally jumps to the next clip.

You’re holding back laughter at this point. Does he have an editor? Does he even know how to edit? The video continues with him zooming in on the menu, then cuts to a shot of him ordering that is angled below his chin. After the cashier takes his order, he looks down at the camera and gives an excited smile.

Oh my god, this is your new favorite person ever. Something about his awkwardness is so endearing. You’re starting to tear up from holding back laughter when Rick leaves the bedroom.

“Hey babe,” he calls from the hallway.

“Hey, honey. I’m making food for us,” you say, turning your phone off and pouring the eggs onto the pan. Rick walks up behind you and plants a kiss on your neck, humming when he sees what you’re making.

“You make the best omelets,” he says, kissing your head as he heads to the bathroom to take a shower.

You finish making the omelets, putting them on plates and bringing them to the table. You sit down to eat and call Rick to the table. For some reason you can’t get Kurt out of your mind. He was just so… silly. In a really cute way.

Rick sits down and starts devouring his food. The way he eats really grosses you out but you just try to ignore it. You take bites of your food, praising yourself for making it so well. By the time you’re halfway done with yours, Rick already washed his plate off and put it in the dishwasher.

“Hey babe,” you say. “Do you know the guy who used to babysit Bobby? Kurt?”

“Ah yeah, Kurt Kunkle,” he scoffs at the name. “Bobby says he’s a fucking weirdo.”

You’re a bit taken aback by the comment.

“Well, I just wanted to say he has a youtube channel. I think it’s really funny.” Rick laughs at that.

“Oh, I’ve seen it. The dude is such a fucking loser, he’s seriously trying so hard to go ‘viral’.” Rick says, using air quotes around the last word.

“I mean he’s just doing something he enjoys. Who cares if he’s good at it?” You try to defend Kurt despite knowing arguing would go nowhere with Rick. He rolls his eyes and walks back to his bedroom. You feel a bit hurt, even though you know it doesn’t have to do with you. You finish the omelet and start the dishwasher, walking to the bedroom.

Rick is on his phone, laughing at whatever is on the screen. He looks up to see you and sets it down.

“Bobby’s coming over. We’re probably gonna be playing video games, so if it’s too loud you can just head out.”

The last sentence really frustrated you. While you did often get overwhelmed with the noise and just left, he made it sound like he was giving you permission to leave. You were too tired to say anything and just started getting ready for the day, already expecting to leave. Rick’s eyes were glued onto you as you took your shirt off, watching you find a bra to put on.

“God you’re so hot,” he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Normally you love when he does that, but it just feels wrong this time. He starts kissing down your neck and you try to push him away.

“Isn’t Bobby coming over?” you insist.

“It won’t be for a little while, it’s fine,” he says, pulling your hair to the side so he can kiss further down your shoulder. It was really easy to turn you on, which Rick knew and loved. The strange feeling was really nagging at you but you know the horniness won’t go away quickly unless dealt with.

Before you could even respond, Rick gently bit down on your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He laughed against your neck and turned you around, kissing you deeply. You had started to dissociate every time you had sex with Rick a while ago and never cared to change that. The whole process was so repetitive, you knew exactly what to do and say to make Rick happy and could do it on autopilot.

The whole time you’re going through the familiar motions, Kurt is on your mind. Not in a sexual way, just that you are enamored by him. The only time you’re pulled from your thoughts is when you cum. It never really feels that good but you know how uncomfortable it gets being aroused all day. Luckily Rick finishes not long after and you give him a quick kiss as you go to the bathroom.

The indifference to sex always brings the question of your relationship with Rick to your mind. You know why you don’t leave but it hurts to think about. You met Rick after you moved to Azusa to be closer to family and didn’t know a lot of people. Not many people showed interest in you before so Rick quickly had you wrapped around his finger. Rick isn’t a bad person. You’re just bored of being with him. The only ray of hope recently had been the party where you met Kurt.

Heading back to the bedroom, you see Rick making the bed. You smile at him and kiss his cheek as you head to get dressed. For a moment, the thought of leaving him runs through your mind but you brush it off as you put clothes on and head to the living room, where you hear a knock on the door.

Opening the door, you’re greeted by Bobby. You smile at him politely as he gives a nod of greeting. You step to the side and he makes his way to the bedroom as you shut the door. Already, there is a lot of noise coming from the bedroom. You want to stick it out and stay as long as it is tolerable so you put in your headphones and continue Kurt’s video.

It continues where you left off, with Kurt ordering at the boba shop. There are a few clips of him getting his order and finding a seat outside, where luckily the wind has calmed down. He sets the camera down to face him and it falls a couple of times in the process, once again adding to the thought that he doesn’t know how to edit.

“Alright, I’m not quite sure how this works…” He says, looking at the straw and then the top of the cup. He looks back and forth at them with a confused look on his face.

“Sorry guys, I’ve never done this before. Let me…” His voice trails off as he taps the lid of the boba with the sharp end of the straw. He does it a couple more times, flinching every time it connects. Finally, he manages to puncture the lid and looks so proud of himself. You cheer internally as he brings the straw to his mouth and immediately chokes on a tapioca pearl. You can’t hold it back after that and laugh as he coughs and tries to process what just happened. At the same time, you see Bobby walk out of the bedroom. He scoffs as he passes by.

“Is that Kurt?” He says condescendingly as you pause the video.

“Oh, yeah. I met him at your party last night.”

“He’s fucking crazy. Seems to think we’re best friends just because he babysat me when I was a fucking kid. Swear to god he’s gonna kill someone someday.” Bobby says, genuinely sounding upset.

“Oh.” You say, not knowing how to even respond. “Uh, good to know I guess.”

“Hey, I’m taking the last two Sprites,” Bobby calls from the kitchen.

“That’s fine, I need to go shopping anyway.”

“Sweet,” Bobby says, heading back to the bedroom. You watch him walk away and hit play on the video. Despite everything Rick and Bobby said, you’re still fascinated by Kurt.

After he coughs a bit, Kurt manages to catch his breath and looks at the camera.

“So first impression is to, uh, not…suck that hard.” His eyes flicker to the camera as if he realizes that phrase sounds weird but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He takes another drink and manages to get a good sip without choking. He chews on the boba thoughtfully and raises his eyebrows in approval. He hums before he swallows and speaks again.

“That’s really good. So yeah guys, if you want a good drink, come down to Boba Beast in Azusa.” He gives the camera a thumbs-up and smiles, slightly cocking his head to the side. The video cuts to one more clip of Kurt walking up to a traffic pole, placing on it a yellow sticker of a very crudely drawn planet with a face and “Kurt’s World” written above.

You immediately go to like the video. You decide to leave a comment, trying to think of something to say.

doodlesgalore: Great review, laughed so hard when you choked. I’ll def be going there soon

The frustrated yelling of Rick and Bobby makes you jump. You try to ignore it and decide to check Instagram. You scroll through posts of people you haven’t seen since high school, feeling more pathetic after each happy photo shown on your feed. A notification pops up on your phone from youtube saying that Kurt responded to your comment. You go to click on it but stop after getting an idea. You tap on the search bar on Instagram, looking up “KurtsWorld96”. Your phone takes a minute to load but an account pops up with the same name and the yellow planet as the profile picture. You excitedly click on the account and hit follow.

Scrolling through the feed, you see reposts of clips from his videos and some outdated memes. After clicking on only a few posts, you get a notification that Kurt followed you back. Your heart rate picks up as you decide to message him.

doodlesgalore> Hey Kurt, it’s Y/N from the party last night

doodlesgalore> I saw the video you posted today :)

You swipe out of Instagram and look at the response Kurt gave on youtube.

KurtsWorld96: Awesome! I love giving fans recommendations 😊

You smile at the emoji and see that Kurt responded to your message. Does he have nothing better to do right now? You brush it off as him being dedicated to his online presence and click on his DM.

kurtsworld96> Hey Y/N! Did you like the video??

doodlesgalore> I loved it !! I was the one who left a comment btw

kurtsworld96> Thank you for your support 😌

You close the app and turn off your phone for a second, painfully aware of the increasing noise coming from the bedroom. You roll your eyes while grabbing your shoes and a tote bag, deciding to go to the boba place Kurt mentioned.

Hesitantly walking towards the bedroom, you poke your head in to say goodbye to Rick. He and Bobby are engrossed in their game, yelling at each other and the screen. You assume Rick won’t hear or acknowledge your departure so you just leave without saying anything as the strange feeling from before gnaws at your insides.

#kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x reader #kurtsworld96 #spree #spree 2020 #i laughed so hard writing the video

[zuko-always-lies]

Analyzing the “Azula Apologizes to Ty Lee” Scene from a Different Angle

So there is one scene from the “Beach” which is particularly famous; you can view it here. People have made much hay in the past out of how it’s the “only” time Azula shows empathy(it’s not) or the only time Azula sincerely apologizes(which is true, but the only sincere apology Iroh ever gives is to Lu Ten’s dead body).  However, it’s one of the very few scenes which have Azula and Ty Lee interact outside of combat situations, and I think we can tell a lot about their relationship from it. Much, much more under the cut.

Ty Lee: Oh, I'm glad you're here. Those boys won't leave me alone. I guess they all just like me too much. Azula: Come on, Ty Lee, you can't be this ignorant. Ty Lee: (Close shot of Ty Lee, confused) What are you talking about? Azula: (Cut back to Azula, leaning coolly against a wooden beam) Those boys only like you because you make it so easy for them. You're not a challenge. You're a tease. It's not like they actually care who you are. (Cut to Ty Lee, bursting into tears. She covers her eyes. Cut to wider shot which includes Azula, who grabs Ty Lee's hands in a comforting gesture) Ok, ok, calm down. I didn't mean what I said. (Close shot of Azula) Look, maybe I just said it because I was a little... (whispers) jealous. (Cut back to Ty Lee) Ty Lee: (surprised) What? You were jealous of me? (gestures toward herself) Um, but, you're (gestures toward Azula) the most beautiful, smartest, perfect girl in the world. Azula: (turns away from Ty Lee) Well, you're right about all those things. (The camera pans across the room full of teen boys) But for some reason when I meet boys they act as if I'm going to do something horrible to them. Ty Lee: (laughs) But you probably would do something horrible to them. (Azula turns back toward Ty Lee, looking a bit sad) I'm sure they're just intimidated by you. Ok, look, if you want a boy to like you just look at him (close shot of Ty Lee) and smile a lot and laugh at everything he says, even if it's not funny. (Cut back to Azula) Azula: (Looks down) Well, that sounds really shallow and stupid. (Looks up grinning) Let's try it. (Cut to Azula and Ty Lee. Ty Lee leans against a wooden beam, posing coolly and pretending to be a boy) Ty Lee: Ok. "Hey, there sweet sugar cakes. (points coolly toward Azula) How ya likin' this party?" Azula: (laughs loud and unnaturally, drawing the attention of everyone at the party)

Some key points:

Ty Lee deliberately seeks out Azula for support after Ty Lee gets into an awkward social situation.  Mai and Zuko are also at the party, but Ty Lee seeks out Azula. This suggests that Azula has been someone Ty Lee could turn to for support in difficult situations in the past.

When Azula hurts Ty Lee’s feelings, the depth of Ty Lee’s reaction(she really seems to take what Azula said to heart) suggests that she wasn’t expecting Azula to be so mean, that normally Azula is nicer and more respectful with Ty Lee and wouldn’t just randomly insult her.

Upon seeing Ty Lee in tears, Azula instinctively acts to comfort her, grabbing her hands(physical contact is something which Ty Lee likes a lot, so Azula is doing a good job here), and of course apologizes and admits fault. This is sufficient to get Ty Lee to calm down.  The entire sequence suggests that “Azula comforting Ty Lee” is something which is reasonably common in this relationship.

Ty Lee calls Azula “most beautiful, smartest, perfect girl in the world,” and struggles to understand that Azula could need help or be imperfect. I know that Ty Lee brownnoses a lot, but I get a sense that there’s something sincere here. We get a sense that Ty Lee might not always have been the most emotionally supportive of Azula in the past, because often it seemed like Azula was “perfect” and didn’t need help.

Ty Lee reassures Azula, and then 100% voluntarily gives Azula good advice, without any prompting whatsoever. Ty Lee cares a lot about Azula.

Ty Lee’s advised course of action seems to be “shallow and stupid” to Azula, but Azula still decides to follow her friend’s advice, because she trusts Ty Lee and takes Ty Lee’s opinion and perspective very seriously.

From Ty Lee’s advice on how to get boys to like you(act in shallow and stupid ways), we get a sense that at some level, a lot her public persona is put on in an effort to get people to like her and give her positive attention(Ty Lee’s attention issues).  Ironically, the people she’s probably most interested in impressing(Mai and Azula) are also probably the people who are least impressed or fooled by Ty Lee’s public persona, but they both like her anyways, so obviously Ty Lee is doing something right.

Thus, we can see how one little scene contains a volume of information on the Ty Lee-Azula relationship.

#Azula #Ty Lee #Mai #Dangerous Ladies #atla #ATLA Meta

[tehrevving]

Cocked and Loaded

My piece for the @ssszine. I was waiting until I received my copy to post it buuuut it’s been stuck in about 3 different countries now, so I’ve decided to just go for it.

This is a funny fic that doesn’t take itself too seriously. Enjoy!

The bar is so deserted that Dante can’t even find someone to refill his drink. He just sits there, swirling the ice around his empty glass and staring at the strange fruit bowl in front of him. He doesn’t know why there’s one on the bar, or why it’s filled with only bananas and a giant purple fruit that looks like the emoji thing that young people use when they text. If he’s not going to be able to get another drink, he decides to just leave. He stands up, not noticing the woman standing behind him, lower than his eye line. He almost knocks her to the floor. She’s pretty, older but with a bit too much plastic injected into her face for his tastes. 

“Sorry Miss,” he says sheepishly, moving around her. 

She puts a hand on his bicep and squeezes, “don’t worry about it big boy.”

Dante carefully lifts her hand off his arm. She just puts her other hand on his chest. “You’re quite a catch aren’t you Love,” she smiles sincerely, through the face fillers. “I’d popped in here for a drink, but now that I’ve seen you. Well I could go for something a little bit more,” she pauses for dramatic effect. “Salty.”

Dante chokes. He’s never heard that one before and it catches him off guard, especially said with such a serious tone. The man behind the camera sighs.

“Cut!” he yells, and the room comes alive. 

People are running around, adjusting the angle of the spotlights while the director yells. Dante sits back down on the stool and takes a sip of his whisky, shaking his head. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this. 

It was an offer he hadn’t been able to refuse. A simple, quick job attached to a ten thousand dollar cheque. He was already eyeing up a stylish new coat, custom holsters for his guns and the very expensive pizza shop down the road. The catch was the very nature of the job itself. The client wanted him, Dante Sparda, Legendary Devil Hunter, to star in a full frontal pornographic film, for their personal collection. 

Dante needed the cash desperately. He’d been sent a script, a time and an address, and now he was here, thrust into the spotlight and still not really sure what was going on. 

He thought that he would be walking into an amateur type affair. A casting couch in a dark room with a handycam sort of thing. There’s a whole team of people though, including an eccentric director - stupid hat included - who seems incapable of speaking in a volume lower than a shout.

He takes another look at the client, his co-star. She’s a socialite, rich, influential, and apparently a huge fan of his. She’s nice enough even though there’s just something off about her. She doesn’t look quite right when she smiles. She reminds him of the hellspawn he regularly exterminates.  

“One minute warning!”

Dante takes a deep breath and steels himself.

It takes two more attempts for the director to be happy. Dante is already bored of repeating the same thing over and over. He wonders why getting this scene right is such a big deal. It’s not like anyone ever watches the intro to porn films anyway. He just drains his glass and reaches over the bar for the bottle to refill it. 

One of the cameramen is next to him suddenly, grinning. “Are you sure drinking more is a good idea?” he smirks, biting back laughter, “it’s all well and good to calm your nerves, but don’t let it affect your performance. If you catch my drift,” he winks.

Dante rolls his eyes, the great Son of Sparda getting whisky dick? Please. Dante reckons that even flaccid he’s got a bigger cock than this idiot. He downs his drink as the man drags him into the next room.

The director has a megaphone now and is screaming into it. He walks over and puts the speaker right next to Dante’s ear. “All you have to do is let her undress you. Got it?”

Dante nods, desperate to stop the ringing in his ear as he’s dragged to the centre of the room.

“Action!”

His co-star stands in front of him again, she’s tiny. He wonders if the camera can even get both of them in the same frame. 

Dante takes in a breath and puts on his usual act, cocky and carefree. 

“Why, is that a sword in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” she smiles, winking.

Dante struggles not to laugh at the lines, or at the expression on her face. He just follows the script, cocking out his hip. “Why don’t you come a little bit closer and find out Sweetheart,” he purrs flawlessly, finishing off with some finger guns for effect. He’s starting to feel a little bit more relaxed. 

She steps in closer as a wind machine starts up. The sound almost deafening. Dante feels the breeze push at his hair and uses his heightened senses to time the shrug of his shoulders. His coat falls off his shoulders effortlessly, fluttering stylishly to the floor.

The wind machine stops and he shakes out his long hair. He flexes his arms and reaches up, over his head. He pulls off his shirt, struggling not to get caught in the fabric or mess up his hair. Sure, it’s an impractical way to take off a shirt, but he saw it in a movie once and thought it looked pretty sweet. 

She stands up on her toes and starts licking at his neck and then his hairy chest. His skin is covered with saliva when she pulls away and it feels pretty gross. She works her way down his body until she’s half crouching to be level with his crotch. The cameraman moves to get the shot, getting tangled up in the cables. Dante tries not to laugh. He tries to look sexy instead. Like he’s excited to have a desperate woman kneeling between his legs, instead of apprehensive.

She traces her hands down his thighs and works quickly down to his boots. She licks the buckle and uses her teeth to pull the zipper down. Dante notices, as she pulls off his shoe, that everyone in the room is staring at his feet.

“Cut!”

The director storms over, his voice distorted static through the megaphone. “What are those?!”

Dante looks down, “my socks?” he questions, wiggling his toes inside of his lucky, pizza print sock. 

The director groans, holding his head in his hands.

“Costuming!”

They take away Dante’s favourite sock and the mismatched pink strawberry print one from his other foot. He’s given replacement socks that are boring and plain black. He’s just managed to get them on when an assistant appears and throws all of his previously discarded clothes at him. Dante gets dressed again.

He can’t believe he has to go through it all again. He has a lot less enthusiasm during the next take. His coat falls dismally to the floor and he takes his shirt off the normal way because he’s not going to risk stretching the neck out. Eventually they get back to where they were, and then further. Now she’s crouched awkwardly in front of him, working on his fly. 

She rubs her face all over his clothed cock. He’s not really hard yet but not one seems to have noticed. It’s all going well so far. She undoes his fly and slowly pulls his pants lower. She works seductively, dragging the fabric down his legs while biting her lip. Dante cocks out his hip while the camera pans around him.

“Cut!”

The director is utterly irate this time, stalking towards Dante like he’s going to murder him. “Your underwear,” he spits. Dante twists around. He’d accidentally put on his smokin hot black briefs this morning, the ones with the word ‘sexy’ stamped across the ass in giant, holographic letters. 

His co-star turns, struggling not to laugh. “I don’t think those are a problem.”

The director stares at her like she has two heads but quickly relents. 

They don’t have to redo the whole scene again apparently. Dante’s just glad he doesn’t have to get dressed again, or deal with the wind machine. He just does his pants back up and they go from there. There’s only one more hitch on the next take. She’s a little bit too enthusiastic ripping off his underwear and his semi-hard cock springs up. Hitting her solidly in the face. She’s not hurt, but she’s definitely a little bit shaken up. The next time they try the take, she makes sure to hold him steady with her hand.  

There’s a team of people adjusting a stool in front of him. His co-star kneels on it and they mess around trying to get her high enough to comfortably reach his cock. Dante tries to play it cool. He’s starting to feel a little bit out of his depth, now that she’s about to properly touch him. 

The director turns to Dante. “Get ready,” he scoffs and makes a jerking motion with his fist. Gross. 

Dante has never had any problems with his performance, even with an audience. It’s different in the dark recesses of a strip club though, compared to harsh lights and critical stares. He ignores them, reaching down and stroking his cock a few times. He quickly gets into it, adding in a twist of his wrist here and there. It feels good. 

The director fawns over him, tells him to bend his knees, cock out his hip, tense his butt. Dante tries his best to follow the contradicting directions, ignoring the strain in his thighs. 

“Action!”

It’s now or never. She reaches out and wraps a hand firmly around the thick base of his cock. She strokes him a few times, making exaggerated movements while she leans her face in closer. She holds him in place and then sticks out her tongue. 

Dante is watching closely. There’s something not right with her tongue. It’s slightly too long and flicks out strangely from between her lips. Her grip tightens painfully around the base of his cock. He hears her hiss. “Gotcha!”

Dante recoils. Managing to pull himself back just in time. Her maw crunches down on the empty air where beloved lil’ Dante was only moments ago.

She crouches to the floor, splayed out with too long limbs. “Famed Devil Hunter,” she hisses, staring at him with glowing, slitted eyes. “You’ve fallen right into our trap. Let us see how strong you really are, aroused, naked and without any weapons.”

Dante doesn’t need to look around the room. The grotesque snapping sounds echoing off the walls tell him that everyone else in the room is transforming too. She takes a step back as the others gang up on him. 

This is his element though. He can handle a fight. “Oh, Darling,” he taunts, “I’m always fully loaded.” He winks and flies head first into battle. 

The creatures aren’t strong. Dante doesn’t need weapons. His bare fists are strong enough to puncture through their squishy chests. He has fun, backflipping and dancing around. It’s interesting, getting to fight with parts of his body that he doesn’t normally. He laughs, snapping necks with his thighs. Yelling out, “cut” and “action” as he slams disfigured faces to the ground. It’s easy to improvise, though he has to be careful not to bang his large adrenaline filled erection on the furniture. 

Far too soon for his liking, it’s just the woman and the director - stupid hat still perched on his reptilian head - left. The director stalks forward, looking just as agitated as he had when he looked human. He’s so focused on Dante that he doesn’t notice the camera cable, stretched taut and hidden by streaming corpses. He trips. Dante watches it play out in slow motion. The director flails, trying to keep his balance. His hat flies off his head. There’s a pause and a click as the swinging cable flicks the fan blades on. Dante can’t tear his eyes away from the director’s horrified face. He screams as the sharp blades slice through him and paint the walls with his blood.  

The client is furious now. She screeches at him. The sound threatens to shatter the windows. Dante throws a quick come hither motion in her direction, goading her on. She lunges forwards. 

It’s an accident, honestly. Dante was having way too much fun. He wanted to capture her, interrogate her, find out exactly what was going on here, who sent them. But it wasn’t to be. It wasn’t that he mistimed his stylish double pike backflip exactly, it was more that she anticipated his movement and decided to attack him with her teeth.

Her head swung back as he twisted. Neither her nor Dante though have accounted for the unrestrained and exceptionally lethal weapon between his legs. His dick hits her solidly in the neck. He has too much momentum. He doesn’t stop spinning. Her neck splits with a pop as her decapitated head flies across the room. 

Dante stops moving as quickly as he can. Frantically inspecting his makeshift sword for any damage. There’s a little bit of devil gore, but otherwise everything is intact. He sighs with relief as he looks around the room. 

Dante sneaks out of the apartment through the back window, dropping into the bushes below. He’s haphazardly dressed, already having put on and taken his clothes off way too many times today. He leaves the mess of bodies and equipment as they are. Not his problem. He steals the bottle of booze though, along with the strange purple fruit from the bowl and the tape from the camera, which has ‘Cocked and Loaded’ scrawled across the front of it.

He starts the slow, long walk back to the office, still broke. He’s pretty sure that the large cheque he has in his pocket is gonna bounce. He turns the purple fruit around in his hands and then takes a bite. It’s disgusting. He throws it away. Why would anyone want to eat that?

He can’t believe that he’s walking away empty handed. He’d been so confident this job was going to work out. He pats the tape in his pocket, glad he has it as a souvenir. He’s almost giddy, thinking about watching it later tonight in private. He’s already decided that he’s never gonna show it to anyone else, and even if it never really got juicy… well, he figures at least one person should jerk off to it.

#dmc #dante sparda #dante #dmcv #rev writes #my writing #ssszine

[atopfourthwall]

Did you cameo in Johnston’s latest video? Cus inside a crystal ball it looks like you but it’s so small it’s hard to tell

Typo in their Ask, supposed to be "JonTron" and yes that's me. No, I did not film it for him nor do I want anything to do with him. That clip of me running has been making the rounds for a few months now because it looks utterly ridiculous and stupid out of context. Mind you, it doesn't look any better IN-context, either. It's from the Nostalgia Critic crossover on Bloodrayne. Doug had Spoony and I summoned via him opening up a copy of the movie (it's a callback to our first crossover together - Alone in the Dark). Despite the fact that this is a review of a video game movie made by Uwe Boll, apparently he decided that our appearing to him had to be in the form of superpowers - me running really fast like the Flash and Spoony flying through the air. It makes no sense, but the shot of me running in front of a green screen like that has become semi-memetic. Really it just calls to mind memories of making that. Overall, I think the review turned out okay and funny... but if we had just stuck to the original script, it wouldn't have, because when he sent us the first draft of the script, it wasn't very good. Complaining about a movie CAN be funny, but that's all the script was - complaining. He didn't bring the funny. When we went to go film it with him, we had a quick session where we came up with a bunch of ideas that would actually be JOKES and funny bits - the "Michael Madsen gets increasingly bad things happen to him and he has no reaction" bit was one in particular I remember. I think the only bit that was actually in the original script and funny was the recurring gag of the Cinema Snob coming in increasingly bloodied and we are unimpressed by it. But yes, that fucking running sequence that makes no sense. I don't know why it suddenly became a thing again for people to reference and laugh at, but it has. Honestly while it's frustrating that THAT is what's getting more attention to me as opposed to something I did that I WANTED to do, really the more I think about it is in relation to how bad Doug is with green screen. He has this big green screen space (don't know what it's like at his new studio, but presumably a similar setup) - like, 15, 20-feet room of green screen that he could do a lot with - fully body shots in particular... and any time you see green screen on his show it's people either walking in place or walking towards the camera with him zooming in on it like it's a dramatic moment. The walking in place thing is really bad BECAUSE of all the space and range of movement he has. If you look at my tenth anniversary episode, you'll notice the scenes of Linksano and Linkara walking in the green-screened hallway doesn't really look all that convincing... but that's because I filmed it in my living room and I don't have the room to actually make shots like that that look convincing. The Game Show Reviewer did what he could - made the camera shake around more as if we were actually in motion and it helps the effect, but there's only so much you can do with it because of my limitations. Doug does not have those limitations, yet he's perfectly content to be lazy with it and make it look completely unconvincing in the slightest. Perhaps that's part of the joke, but it doesn't really help. Honestly, his cinematography has been bugging me for a while because he does the same camera tricks over and over. Someone enters unexpectedly and he zooms in on them and turns the camera slightly. He'll wide-angle lens shots or circle around people meant to be cool and it just... looks bad and amateurish. The green-screening is the same way. You can make a drinking game over the exact same kinds of shots he always does. It's supposed to make his productions look bigger and more complex, but in execution it's just dull and makes it seem like he takes himself more seriously than he does. Say what you will about my own cinematograph, which is much more static in places (hell, even screwed up the 180 rule in the latest storyline segment since Will and I were accidentally looking in the same direction as opposed to opposite ones), but I'm not randomly zooming the camera in each shot and panning the camera around to try to make a sequence seem more dramatic in EVERY. SINGLE. SHOT. Sorry about that tangent, but I decided to watch part of that review of the Wall and just skipping through it I noticed this crap so much and it was infuriating, so having people talk about that fucking shot of me running that even friggin' JonTron is using as a gag just made me think about a lot of this crap.

[sofreakinmanyfandoms]

November 21 - First Date (Sequel to “Haiku...”)

I couldn’t resist. There needed to be more of this universe.

Word count: 1946

Warnings: Fluff. Bad luck. A bit of self-depreciation on Clint’s part, but the reader sets him straight.

Pairing: Clint Barton X Reader (Modern!AU)

“How do you always look like such a mess?” Natasha chided as she fruitlessly attempted to smooth the wrinkles in Clint’s shirt. He swore it had been freshly pressed when he’d put on two minutes ago.

“Wish I knew,” he sighed ruefully as he studied his reflection in the mirror, giving up on his untamable hair. “Then maybe I could figure out how to fix it.”

“Hey,” she told him seriously, and if he hadn’t known her as long as he had he might have missed the note of affection in her voice. “There’s nothing to fix. It’s just your own brand of charm, and anyone who doesn’t agree –”

“Can shove off,” he finished with a little grin. “So you’ve told me. I’m really hoping this one doesn’t shove off, though.”

Nat laughed, giving him a little shove towards the door. “You’re gonna be late if you don’t get out there. Go enjoy your evening. Have some fun, live a little. Tell me all about it when you get back.”

Clint waved without looking back as he made his way out the door and across the hallway. Less than ten seconds after he knocked you were opening the door.

Wow. You looked… Wow. Both your dress and your leggings looked so soft he bit his tongue to keep from reaching out to touch them. The colors looked fantastic on you, the fabric falling in a way that perfectly accented your figure and the faint pinstripes doing things that were definitely good for you and made everything difficult for Clint.

“Hi,” he breathed. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks,” you replied with a faint blush before your tone turned teasing. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Clint shook his head. “I look like a dumpster fire. You look gorgeous. I feel underdressed. Aw, I don’t even know where we’re going, I totally underdressed, didn’t I?”

You stopped him before he could work himself into a panic. “Clint, relax.” Your hand came up and tried to smooth out the collar of his purple button-up. (Really, he swore it had been pressed when he put it on.) “Your clothing is actually dressier than mine. Dresses just tend to add an appearance of being dressed up while secretly being as comfy as sweatpants. You won’t look out of place at all tonight.”

“I really hope you’re not just saying that,” Clint said, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I… I really like you, and I want tonight to go well.”

“And it will,” you assured him, tucking your hand through his arm and leading the way towards the stairs. “Honestly, if you’re half as nice as I think you are, everything could go wrong tonight and I’d still want a second date.”

----------

You probably shouldn’t have said that. Jinxing and all that.

----------

“Aw, diner, no,” Clint said as the two of you stood outside the flaming inferno that had been where you’d made dinner reservations. “That wasn’t quite to plan.”

Your laughter surprised him. “No, no it wasn’t. I didn’t realize Philippe worked so hard.”

The man in question had been the main cook at the classic diner that was now up in flames. He was being checked out by paramedics after falling asleep in the kitchen and getting the oil in one of the pans too hot, starting a fire which sparked and spread shortly after you’d arrived. The diner’s owner had managed to get him out before the fire completely took over, but he’d inhaled a lot of smoke. Apparently working double shifts for two weeks had left the single father too exhausted to function. The owner Mr. Francis was blaming himself for not seeing how run-down his chef was becoming, while Philippe merely clung to his little girl Madeline and breathed from the oxygen mask one of the paramedics had thrust into his hands.

“So obviously Margie’s is out,” you said, surveying the barely-contained damage. “Know anywhere that’ll feed two slightly singed people who reek of smoke?”

“Well,” Clint paused, shuffling uncomfortably, “I do, but it’s probably not your scene.”

“Try me.”

----------

It really wasn’t your scene, but you were having too much fun to care. You’d been halfway through your second beer and third hotdog when one of the other regulars at the hole-in-the-wall bar that Clint had brought you to had challenged your date to a game of darts. Apparently Clint had never lost, and it was a tradition among the regulars for them to each try to beat him whenever he came in.

“Sorry, kid,” a guy who introduced himself as Wade had told you. “Date or no date, it’s about time someone beat your boyfriend at his own game.”

“Not my game,” Clint had insisted with a smirk, electing to ignore the boyfriend part. “Archery’s my game. You pathetic lot can’t even beat me at my hobby.”

With much laughter and teasing all around, he’d had beaten five different patrons before you’d decided it was your turn. Maybe it was the alcohol in your bloodstream or maybe it was the fun you were having, but either way, as you told Wade, “If none of you can beat him it’s time to get some fresh blood in the mix.”

“I can’t take you on,” Clint whined, “competition ruins dates.”

You leaned in, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth while giving him your best puppy eyes, internally cheering when his breath hitched.

“You sure it won’t just get us fired up for later?” you asked, dropping your voice low and making it a little breathy. The group of regulars hooted and slapped Clint on the back as he blushed a deep red.

“Come on, Hawkeye,” a big guy named Luke called out, using the nickname you’d learned they’d long ago given your date. “What, are you afraid your pretty date will wipe the floor with you?”

He paused for a moment. “Do you want to throw first or shall I?” Your reply was nearly drowned out by the cheers and whistles of the crowd, but Clint picked up his darts and stepped up to make his first throw.

A red-fletched dart hit the center of the bullseye and Clint stepped back, bowing and waving you to the official throwing mark. You gave him your best curtsy and batted your eyelashes as you stepped forward.

Thunk.

A green-fletched dart wedged aside the red one, embedding itself in the same hole in the dartboard.

The group was surprisingly quiet, Clint included, every one wide-eyed and slack-jawed. You couldn’t help but smirk a little as you stepped aside and motioned for Clint to take his spot again.

“I may have idolized a certain archer in my teens,” you whispered in his ear, “and since I didn’t have a bow I practiced my aim with darts.”

“New rule,” Clint said with a grin. “I’ll put the dart wherever I like and you have to hit the same spot I did.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Four more rounds, Clint spaced out his darts evenly. Three more rounds, you landed your dart against his on the other three sides. For the fourth round, you smirked, altered the angle of your throw, and placed your dart so it knocked his out of the board entirely, taking over its spot.

“Well,” Wade said after a moment of silence, “I think we have a new champion.”

“You were right,” Clint whispered in your ear as his arms wrapped around you, “I am feeling particularly fired up.”

----------

The two of you stood outside the door to your apartment, your back against the wall as Clint pressed into you and your mouths devoured each other.

“I can’t believe,” Clint mumbled between kisses, “that I had a date literally go up in flames and it wasn’t a deal breaker.”

You cupped your hand to his jaw, pausing for a moment and looking deep in his eyes.

“Anyone who’d give you up is an idiot.” Your jaw clenched at his self-deprecating laugh. “I’m serious, Clint. You’re kind and sweet and funny and so damn real, I can’t imagine how anyone could keep from falling for you.” You placed a much lighter kiss to his nose. “I’m already well on my way, so if you don’t think this will work out I need to know before I’m too far gone.”

No one had ever talked to him like that before, like they were a sure thing and it was actually his choice if the relationship would continue or not. Clint had already liked you, but that feeling he got when you locked eyes with him was definitely edging closer to love than he was expecting.

“I wanna see where this goes,” he finally replied, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I wanna do this right, because you deserve it. You deserve the world, so much more than I can give you, but if you’re willing to take a chance on me I’m not going anywhere.” He shot you a wry smile. “Other than back to my apartment, anyway. I’m gonna go shower and pretend to sleep and text you in the morning to arrange another date.”

“Or,” you offered, “you could just show up at my apartment whenever you wake up and I could feed you breakfast.”

“And if you’re still asleep?”

“Natasha has a key. I gave it to her a week ago in case I ever lock myself out. You can just come on in and make yourself at home.”

His breath caught in his throat and yup, that feeling was definitely a lot closer to love than it should be at this stage. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, giving him one last (hungrier than it probably should have been) kiss before slipping into your apartment.

Clint found himself whistling as he made his way across the hall and into his place, jumping when Natasha’s voice came out of the dark living room.

“You smell like smoke and beer and hotdogs. How was your date?”

“Geez, Nat,” he hissed, reaching for the light switch and bathing the room in the glow of the lone incandescent bulb. “Don’t scare me like that.”

She took in his slightly scorched and definitely sweaty appearance. “You look like you were near a fire.”

“Uh, yeah, the first place we went ended up in flames, so we went to Logan’s.”

“You took a date to Logan’s?” The censure in Natasha’s voice was unmistakable.

Clint sank into the couch with a dreamy look on his face. “Yeah, I took her to Logan’s. Nat, she beat me at darts.”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Wow. When’s the wedding?”

“Maybe next year,” Clint mused, “in the early autumn. You know, that point when leaves are turning but it hasn’t gotten too cold yet? She likes that time of year best.” He blinked. “She invited me over for breakfast tomorrow. Said you have a key?”

“Yeah, it’s the pink one in the junk drawer,” Nat said, lifting herself out of the armchair and heading down the hall towards her bedroom. “Since I now know you’re home and not in need of medical attention, I’ll be off to bed. Try to sleep sometime tonight so you don’t look like a zombie for your second date.”

The dreamy smile floated back onto Clint’s face. “Second date…”

----------

The next morning, Natasha awoke to the sound of fabric ripping and an exasperated yell of, “Aw, pants, no!” She snorted, rolled over, and went back to sleep. Clint could deal with his own mess.

Man, you were in for a wild ride with that one.

#30 days of avengers one shots #clint barton x reader #clint barton #hawkeye #fluff #first date #sweet #darts #bullseye #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2018 #nanowrimo 2k18 #masterlist #i still suck at tagging

[prettylittleliarsxxxx]

This is the shot: A slim, twentysomething white man, pale and dark-haired, waits in the center of the frame, head tilted fractionally to catch a glimpse of something (someone?) the viewer can’t see. He is wearing a dark jacket with a high collar, and a dark ball cap, even though he is inside, even though it is night. The collar is pulled up to obscure his too-romantic silhouette; the cap is pulled down to obscure his too-soulful eyes. This is the kind of man who literary heroines—or at least literary-minded ones—swoon over, but with so much of his face obscured, it is only his cheekbones, high and almost too pronounced, that signal such classic desirability.

Such a signal is important. Because everything else about this shot shouts that this man is a stalker: From the blurring of important details in the background, to the juuuust too-closeness of it, to the shadows cast from odder angles than seem natural, every aspect makes us want to scream at the heroine, RUN AWAY, LEAVE, HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE WHO THIS PSYCHO IS???. And so we need something, some small thing, to remind us, when this man is not actually dressed to kill, when he’s not staring at the device he’s got tracking her every digital step, why she can’t see what we see. And that small thing is: He is attractive.

Duh.

This, of course, is why this man’s story works. The fight-or-flight reflex his behavior should provoke in the object of his obsessions is counteracted by his charming physical appeal—lust, at least initially, wins out over fear, and as it does, provides the tension necessary to drive the narrative we keep tuning in for.

The trick is, how the show wants to resolve that tension is a question of cultural time. As in, when the handsome stalker was Ezra Fitz (Ian Harding) in Freeform’s teen thriller, Pretty Little Liars, just four short (long) years ago, the romantic hero vs. predator tension was invoked only as a means of creating a temporary road block to eventual nuptial bliss between A Good Man and his (high-schooler) sweetheart. Now, when the handsome stalker is Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley) in Lifetime’s adult thriller You, here in the year of Goddammit Are We Collectively Still Not Taking #MeToo Seriously (a.k.a. 2018), the tension is very clearly meant to resolve not only in Joe’s psychopathy being found out, but in his sweetheart’s (and our) delusions of obsession-as-romance shattering completely.

Understanding that this is You’s endgame is helped, of course, by the fact that (spoilers) Joe straight-up whacks a romantic rival in the skull with a book mallet in the series’ pilot, then kills him with peanut oil after holding him hostage for all of episode two. But even if he didn’t go that far, that early, series creators Greg Berlanti (of the Arrowverse) and Sera Gamble (of The Magicians) make no effort to suggest that we in the audience should be ambivalent about Joe’s character, who addresses the narration of nearly every sequence to an idealized fantasy of Beck (Elizabeth Lail), the “you”-object of his affections, whom he spies from the other side of the book shop he manages in the series’ opening scene and immediately starts scheming to own. In fact, if Berlanti and Gamble make any effort in any direction, it is to keep reminding us that Joe is bad: Take centuries of art romanticizing the unwavering fixation of a handsome man on a single woman and add to it the sea of mundanely callous dudes in the modern dating scene, and you get an audience that’s been trained out of any ability to keep an attentive, clever, present guy, who likes books and making jokes and who is, on top of it all, moppily handsome, at any kind of wait-and-see remove. Like cognitive behavioral therapy, but for the propagation of violent loopholes in rape culture—without intervention from the puppeteers behind Joe’s dark adventures, we might trip over those loopholes and fall to our Joe-shaped doom.

It’s tempting to think that they aren’t doing this, as so much of You is staged as the exact kind of dreamy romance Joe imagines himself to be facilitating and Beck believes herself to be living. Each episode opens on a series of slow, bird’s-eye pans of New York City in early autumn, set to some kind of unobtrusively sweet indie-ish acoustic background music. Scenes with Joe and Beck together are filmed with a warm, golden filter, the background details and even the edges of the foreground taking on a comfortable kind of soft-focus that seems to snuggle them together like a big, metaphorical duvet. If they are outside, the melody of bird song is prominent. If they’re inside, the shush of pages turning and life being lived together is turned high. But when juxtaposed with the brittle, hard-focus, doom-soundtracked reality of the scenes of Joe’s life outside of his and Beck’s “romance,” the delusionally fantastic nature of those softer scenes is made obvious: They are all in Joe’s head, and while Beck may be living in the same fantasy at the moment, Joe’s head is a bad, dangerous place.

“Yeah, but he loves her, but he’s sweet, but it’s a love story!” Badgley imagined eventual fans arguing when he and Lail sat down for an interview with E! News earlier this summer. “In what world?! I don’t believe that’s love. I don’t think that love equals this, so I think we have to question, what is love, and if we think this is love, where are we mistaken?”

Where is throughout all of hetero-romantic pop culture. More acutely, where, I would (and already started to) argue, is in Pretty Little Liars, which not only features Joe’s stalker ancestor in the form of Ezra “I’ll Be Watching You” Fitz, but is in actuality one of the two other shows about attractive young people swept up in cyberstalking that every elevator pitch of You invokes. (The other, of course, is Gossip Girl. ) I spent the better part of three years and many hundreds of thousands of words arguing exactly how many rape culture/toxic masculinity balls Pretty Little Liars and the creator-blessed endgame of #Ezria dropped, so I neither need nor want to retread rageful ground here. But I do need to point out that none of those elevator pitches invoking Pretty Little Liars are doing so for the fact that You is finally juggling all the poisonous balls PLL, and, in its earlier way, GG, let fall—they’re doing so because stalking is a superficial thread throughout all three, and because You’s stars include PLL’s Shay Mitchell and GG’s Badgley. That’s it.

The thing is, the fact that You is treating the subject of violent masculine entitlement and obsessive, possessive “love” with more deadly gravity than either of its teen predecessors isn’t subtle; watch the first five minutes of the pilot and you’ll get that. But that’s the point I’m trying to make: You have to watch the first five minutes of the pilot to see it. If you just look to the promo interviews and red carpet soundbites and fluffy entertainment news tweets and headlines, our collective inability to accept the violent potential of the bad men in our midst is laid bare: Joe’s psychopathic character is translated as him being a mere “creepazoid,” according to the photo caption in Vulture’s review, while You itself is cheerfully summed up as a “messy, murderous romp.” According to a teaser interview with Entertainment Tonight last fall, Mitchell declared the show to be “juicy… It still has all those elements that PLL had with it being sort of a mystery, there’s a romance part to it and it’s just exciting.” Back on E! News, while the article anchoring Badgley and Lail’s interview sports the title, “Penn Badgley Is ‘Really Troubled’ By Anyone Thinking You Is a Love Story,” it eventually can’t help but suggest that, “What Joe does is not really harassment from what Beck can see, but from the viewer’s perspective, it’s not quite not harassment and also not quite not [sic] love.”

!!!!!!!

It’s true, as Kathryn VanArendonk argues in that Vulture review above, that the tone of You isn’t steady, but I’d argue in response that this is less an indicator of the show not being serious enough to be more than a romp, and more a reminder that we are not, as a species, that great at metabolizing the idea that multiple, contradictory things can be true about a person or a situation at the same time. Especially if that person is a man, and especially if the contradictions involve a woman. I am filing this piece on the weekend before the Senate Judiciary Committee plans to hear testimony in the alleged violent attempted rape of a 15-year-old girl by then-17-year-old Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, and likely no one reading these words is unaware that “boys with be boys,” “that was just horseplay,” and “what is harassment anyway???” have resurfaced, in response, as an apparently reasonable foundation for the debate between men’s ability to gain fame and fortune and women’s basic humanity. “Two things can be true at the same time” has become a kind of clarion call across justice-minded social media, but that doesn��t mean it has been absorbed by everyone, on every level.

And so we get: Romp. Juicy. Romance. Not quite harassment. We get Ezra Fitz as pop culture’s most recently successful romantic stalker model. We get the urge to make excuses and carve a path for a bad man’s not-all-badness, even being inside Joe’s head in a way we could never be in Fitz’s, even knowing how he thinks, how he watches, how he transgresses Beck’s digital and physical privacy—even knowing how he murders people to get closer to her. We get that urge because we are also getting Joe swinging from murderously delusional to relatably jokey (his inner monologue as he disposes of his romantic rival’s body in episode three, and later as he picks up jogging to better follow Mitchell’s Peach, is particularly funny) to empathetically invested in making the daily life of his neglected kid neighbor just a bit richer and safer and less sad in a way that isn’t inconsistent so much as it is human, and in its humanity is challenging for us to accept.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the most emphatically unequivocating take I’ve found on the non-romance of You comes from Badgley himself, whose every interview has centered his utter rejection of anything positive one might try to shake out of Joe, or Beck, or Joe and Beck’s “relationship.” One of the most illuminating is the one he did with Devon Ivie at Vulture. It is worth reading in its entirety, but his response to why he took on a stalker role now, in 2018, stands out:

“Now that we’ve made the first season and I’ve been gauging reactions with critics and friends and viewers, I can say there’s a certain accountability—an emotional and psychological responsibility—that we hold the viewers and Joe to. It’s not this wildly irresponsible, escapist fantasy at the perfectly wrong time. I think the show came out at the right time, because any other time, we wouldn’t have had the courage at a social level and have conversations about why we’re drawn to it, but also why we know we shouldn’t reward it. We don’t want to reward Joe more than how he’s already being rewarded.

And as to whether or not he thinks that “viewers will cheer on this depraved man for being a self-described ‘fool in love’,” Badgley responded, “To me, a conversation I hope it starts is, What is it about the show that’s compelling? Why am I watching it? Am I enjoying it? Am I agreeing with Joe? What about all of this do I enjoy most? […] The degrees of which you’re enticed and excited by a show, there’s a lot more scrutiny in terms of the stories we’re interested in telling and consuming—the things we’re still charmed by and attracted to. Because Joe shouldn’t be allowed to behave the way he does. But only the viewer can decide.”

Shortly before Pretty Little Liars was set to air the last half of its seventh and final season, I flew out to Los Angeles to join my co-recappers at the show’s final PaleyFest panel. There were still ten episodes to go before the finale, and we held out hope that the series that had, in its bravest moments, been the most subversively anti-rape culture on television, might be about to burn the whole of Rosewood’s toxic patriarchy to the ground. The viewers who congregated in our comments section every week had certainly decided that that was the only way Pretty Little Liarscould end with integrity. Ten episodes! Ezra could STILL be A! His stalking could be revealed as the toxic danger it always was! But then we got to PaleyFest, and the entire theater was filled with fans whose only interests were the romantic lives of the cast, both onscreen and off, with the #Ezria endgame front and center.

Reader: #Ezria was endgame. And after giving fans like me a single fever dream of the show’s best character beating the daylights out of a jailed Ezra before letting his high-school sweetheart forgive him, the show was so proud of its own cleverness.

It’s 2018 now. #MeToo is only growing stronger as it complexifies, and as more projects like You get made by people who, like Badgley, Berlanti and Gamble, are entirely disinterested in giving bad men a path to not-all-badness. Joe is an outlier, but our willingness to soften the evil of his—fictional, patently obvious, easily condemned—violent obsession is the water we’ve been swimming in for too long. We can decide, as viewers and as people, to start demanding cleaner pools.

You airs Sundays at 10 p.m. on Lifetime.

#anti ezria #you #you series #lifetime's you #lifetimes you #rape tw #rape culture

[caradickson]

Research Task for mOvInG iMaGe

Our moving image brief requires us to create and produce a 60second long successful advert. The subject can be of our choosing but we must research previous adverts and what made them successful and camera angles and shots that aided it’s success. 

Research 3 memorable adverts that have stuck with you since your childhood.

Describe what it is that you think makes these adverts so successful;

Study the way your chosen adverts have been shot and edited and the important role that sound and narration play in the production of these Ads.

When thinking about successful or memorable adverts I thought of Irn Bru and the many humorous adverts that they have made. 

Irn Bru Snowman Christmas Advert:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yZOab5gl-4

Firstly, this advert sticks out in my mind because of the song. I think everyone in Scotland is familiar with this advert. We eagerly await it’s arrival every Christmas time. Personally I think Scottish humour is the best, I may be biased, however something Irn Bru are extremely successful at is providing a giggle. Taking a classic children’s story ‘The Snowman’ and giving it a twist of silly Irn Bru humour. The advert begins with the familiar melody of the snowman’s theme tune, except now we have a new set of lyrics, ‘We’re walking in the air, sipping on an irn bru, my chilly snowman mate, said he would like some to.’ The story is, the snowman would like some of the tasty irn bru, but the wee boy will not share the sacred ginger juice. The snowman snatches the can and drops the boy from a great height, leaving him to fall into the thick snow. I think what makes it successful is combining a familiar childrens story with some cheeky humour around ‘Scotland’s other national drink’. It is selling the story that the drink is so good it cannot be shared and you must have one for your own. 

The catchy song and melody sticks in your head long after you’ve watched the advert. Which in terms of adverting goes, is a success. You want it to get stuck in peoples heads so that they can’t stop thinking about it and they’ll eventually have to go out and buy some irn bru. The advert is great, it’s silly, non-offensive and entertaining for all ages.

In terms of camera shots, the whole advert is reasonably quick paced and moving constantly as the boy and snowman are up in the air for the majority of the advert. The swift movement provides that feeling of flying through the air and travelling through the Scottish scenery, as if we are up there with them. 

Shot list: Wide angle shots, birds eye shots, close up shots, aerial shot, panning shot, low angle shot, zoom out shot to finish the advert. 

Cadburys ‘Eyebrow Dance’ Advert:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0uWBog2Oi8

The cadburys eyebrow advert is another famous and memorable one. The relationship between the audio and the visual content is what is important in an advert and they nailed it here. The eyebrows interact and dance along with the beat and rhythm of the song as if they are beings of their own. 

Shot list:

Starts off with a standard view eye-level shot, over the shoulder shot when the boy clicks his watch, close up shots of each face one after the other, slow-zoom in shot, slow zoom out shot, high angle shot, low angle shot and the final shot of the children is a zoom out shot. 

John Smith Diving Advert - Ft Peter Kay

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W3Id6uxzEMY

First of all I selected this advert because I find it funny and entertaining. Adverts that don’t take theirselves too seriously is always a plus. 

List of shots: 

There are a variety of camera shots in this ad. We start off with a medium shot, zoom in shot, tilt shot, birds eye view shot, it finishes with a wide shot with a large aperture, having the lager in focus and Peter Kay blurry in the background getting out of the pool. 

There looks like theres a combination 

Task 02

Research a variety of Moving Image techniques: -

Camera movements: panning, tilt, zoom, tracking, dolly, pull focus; Composition:

a}  Focal length, long / standard / wide;

b}  Viewpoint, high (birds eye), eye level, low (on ya hunkers);

c}  Action, identify what is moving in the frame (to aid the transition 'cut

on a move')

Camera movements:

Zoom: The zoom shot is one of the most used camera movements there are. You adjust the focal length to give the impression of moving closer to your subject or further away. It is done with a zoom lens that has different focal lengths. Different ways to use a zoom shot effectively would be to do a quick zoom to add energy, to draw attention to a specific character or detail in the shot or add dramatic or comedic effect. 

Panning: Panning is when you move your camera horizontally left or right, following a subject or just spinning round. The camera doesn’t actually move position, just the direction it faces. They can be used to give the audience a sense of location, or to follow a characters movements. When done with speed, it is called a whip pan, to give energy to a shot. 

Tilt: Tilting is similar to panning, except you are moving the cameras direction up and down, vertically. The base of the camera remains in place. Tilting can be used when a character is introduced to show dominance, to show the grandness of a location, or to show/emphasise the height and size of something large. An example we will all be familiar with is in the film Jurassic park, tilting shots are used when introducing the dinosaurs. 

Tracking: A tracking shot is one where the camera continuously moves through the scene, often used following one travelling character. Although tracking shots were traditionally done using dollies, they now are be done with any equipment that physically moves the camera body, for example, gimbals or handheld. 

Dolly: A dolly shot refers to a shot that has been done with any movement on a dolly. A dolly is a track like set up along the floor that allows you to attach your camera to it, to create smooth movement shots (no camera shake). A dolly camera movement can be forwards, backwards or move alongside a subject. 

Pull focus: Pulling focus is the change of your focus point from one area/subject to another. It can be used to emphasise and draw attention to a specific detail. 

Camera gear:

Once you know what camera movements and shots you want to use, you need to determine the equipment you are going to use to achieve it. The gear is what can move the cameras in a specific way. 

Shoulder rig: Most hand held camera shots are done with a shoulder rig. With rigs you can control the amount of camera shake that you want, to create your desired effect. For example, lots of camera shake could give the feeling of panic and fast movement. 

Tripod: They are three legged structures and are the most common camera gear. 

Composition

- Focal Length: 

long - a long focal length means a narrow angle of view. For example using a telephoto lens would give you a long focal length. You get greater the magnification so can see things closer with your camera that are further away physically. Photo by Anabel Dflux. The focal range of telephoto lenses are 70mm-300mm (or beyond).

Standard - A standard focal length would be achieved by using something like a 50mm lens. Although the range of focal lengths in standard view is between 35mm-70mm.The vision is not zoomed in and is not wide angle. It is similar to how we view the world.

Photo by Elizabeth Gray 

Wide - A wide focal point can be achieved using a wide angle lens. You get a broader view. Ultra wide angle lenses have a focal length of less than 24mm. They can distort what you see in the world. Wide angle focal range is between 24mm-35mm. Wide angle focal lengths are used in landscape and architecture photography. 

Photo by Elizabeth Gray 

b}  Viewpoint, high (birds eye), eye level, low (on ya hunkers);

Birds Eye View (overhead shot): 

This is where the shot Is taken from above the subject, reasonably close by. A shot from above but from a greater distance is called an aerial shot, like the view from an airplane (gods eye view).

Eye level: 

Where the point of view is at eye-level to the subject. The head of the subject in frame should be the focal of the shot. 

An example above taken from the film The Truman Show.

Low Viewpoint:

A camera shot from below a subjects eyeline. A low angle shot can be used to show superiority or dominance in a character. 

A low angle shot from The Matrix.

Action, identify what is moving in the frame (to aid the transition 'cut on a move')

A handheld camera shot with lots of movement from the camera would aid to a fast pace, high action scene. 

Slow-mo is also an effect used in films during action or fighting scenes to add drama. 

Camera movements are good when cutting from one frame to another. It makes for a smoother transition. For example a panning shot, zoom shot, tracking shot etc. 

#movingimage

[fallingthruspace]

Thoughts on ‘The Shape of Water’

Spoilers for pretty much everything, so be warned.

The opening sequence is STUNNING. it’s amazing what you can do with a little fog, some fans and the right lighting.

I’m kind of curious as to why Elisa sleeps on the couch if she has a bed right there. Maybe the couch is more comfortable?

Elisa gazing longingly at those red pumps = BIG MOOD.

Honestly I just love Elisa so much.

And Giles is the best. Everyone deserves a neighbor/best friend like him.

Zelda is the chatty Mom Friend and it’s great.

Strickland is a piece of shit right from the get go.

That first reveal, when you see the Asset in his entirety is breathtaking. The atmosphere, he music, the camera angle, without a doubt one of my favorite shots in the film.

I love how Elisa is so calm and chill around him, she never freaks out or runs, even when he hisses/roars at her. She’s so sweet.

And so is he. He is so fucking adorable I want a fish boyfriend.

Giles has the biggest crush on the Pie Guy and it’s HILLARIOUS. especially that scene where you see all those plates of key lime pie in Giles’ fridge. I laughed so hard.

This movie is surprisingly funny. Like, in ways you wouldn’t expect. But they don’t shoehorn in the jokes. They’re natural and mesh well with the story.

Elisa’s tongue is bright green because of the pie and it’s both cute and funny.

The scene where the Asset is chained up is so heartbreaking. It’s also really hard to watch Strickland torture him with that damn cattle prod.

I did not need to see Strickland and his wife have awkward sex.

I felt so bad for Bob/Dimitri. He deserved so much better.

I was a little bummed we don’t get to see Elisa explicitly have sex with the Asset, but at he same time I understand why it wasn’t shown. After having to watch the above-mentioned sex scene, it would have felt cheaper I think. More like porn and less like love.

Letting us know that yes they did have sex (multiple times) without really showing it made it feel more private and intimate.

The part where the Asset eats Pandora is nasty but not as bad as I thought it would be.

The scene where she floods the bathroom so they can have more room is great and aesthetically pleasing, but it’s also really fucking funny when it starts leaking onto the people in the theatre XD

Turns out, you cannot keep an Amazonian river god in your bathtub indefinitely.

The scene where Elisa and the Asset are sitting at the table and she starts breathily singing (in her fantasy) “you’ll never know” lemme tell you I started CRYING.

The dance number was weird and extra but I loved it.

Strickland’s black fingers were nasty af.

The scene where they were about to release the Asset into the canal and Elisa was telling him to go Without here broke my heart.

BUT NOT AS MUCH AS THE SCENE WHERE THEY WERE SHOT AND BLEEDING OUT AND ABOUT TO DIE TOGETHER.

Elisa wanting to hold his hand one more time before she died BROKE ME.

The Asset healing himself and coming back to life was AWESOME.

Strickland’s “oh shit you are a god” right before Asset SLITS HIS MOTHERFUCKING THROAT

Seriously, one of the more satisfying villain deaths I’ve seen.

That’s what you get for hurting his wifey, dickbag

So glad Elisa didn’t die

Del Toro movies rarely have really happy endings but this one did an I’m so glad

Elisa’s conveniently placed scars being turned into gills by her fishman so they can be together is great. Although they make me wonder if Elisa is entirely human. Especially that coupled with the fact she was found in/next to the river? Hmmmm.

The poem at the end is beautiful.

Hell the whole damn movie is beautiful and I want to see it 20 more times.

SERIOUSLY, everyone go see this movie. It’s a masterpiece of cinema and one of Del Toro’s best. Like, this is Pan’s Labyrinth good.

The Shape of Water touched me in my soul the way few films have in my life. Easily my new favorite movie.

GO SEE IT!!!!

#the shape of water #tsow spoilers #guillermo del toro #sally hawkins #doug jones #elisa esposito #zelda fuller #giles #the asset

[guylty]

The review of episode 8 of BS was not really forthcoming for me. I mainly enjoyed this episode of BS for the amount of Richard that was in it. Unlike other reviewers, I was not bored by the episode as such although some of the scenes that were interspersed with the chase plot were indeed very slow – but for me they worked as a deliberate slow-down to heighten the sense of suspense. However, the general criticism of the show remains – where season 1 was choc-a-bloc with too much stuff, season 2 seems lacking in substance – as if the plot is stretched too much.

Rather than discuss the whole episode, I have decided to pick my favourite scenes, i.e. the ones with Richard Armitage in it *surprise, surprise*. I went a bit overboard with the screen caps, but hell, they will not go unused.

Slapstick in the sack

For once, BS provided some real humour. The scene with Daniel and Esther in bed was funny indeed, from lascivious lovers to active agents in 2 seconds. The wrangling for their phones and the mirror image disbelief upon hearing the news from their respective colleagues, was hilarious. And Armitage and Mina Tander pulled it off with dead-pan aplomb. Nice!

Intense Daniel looks

I’d find it pretty hard to get angry with such a lover… Kudos to Esther for not being swayed either by gorgeous clavicles, nor superangry gazes… However, it must be said that the whole relationship angle is slightly weird. With all this back and forth between the two lovers, I get the impression that the writers have overdone it a little bit. Never mind that the relationship started out in season 1 as a honey trap, in order to get info out of Daniel – at this point it just seems so unlikely that these two ambitious agents are actually romantically in love *despite* working almost on opposite sides. Yeah, yeah, love can conquer all, I know. But somehow I don’t buy it. And as much as the fangirl in me likes to see Armitage in romantic scenes – the more seriously-minded Tv consumer in me is slightly suspicious that that is *exactly* what the makers of this show are doing: I feel fobbed off. Instead of giving Daniel – ostensibly the leading character of the show – some hard-hitting, exciting storylines, I am fed a soppy love story. Once again I think that Armitage is woefully underused in this show. Don’t get me wrong – I’d love to see him in a family or romantic drama. But Daniel with puppy eyes, asking to start over (sorry, I know, that was episode 7) – that is just another idiosyncrasy – or idiocy, whichever way you want to see it…

That profile

is worthy of an extra gallery.

Never mind the derp, here comes chestitage

Do I really have to say more? This was a very welcome scene. Can’t remember what Daniel said, but he sure looked good whatever he was saying. Even with that smug smile at the end.

Reaction shots

Crappy, fuzzy cap, but this could be the background to a thousand memes of Richard replying to his fans on Twitter…

Wide awake and half asleep. This scene reminded me of Spooks a lot. Lucas sitting in meetings with his boss was a regularly recurring motif in the British spy show. Yet the caps here reflect pretty much what I believe is wrong with Daniel’s role in BS: It is all about reaction. Daniel is only ever reacting to things in BS. For a lead character he has remarkably little room to manouever on his own accord. He is sent in deep cover by his superiors, follows through with a plan that has been hatched by someone else. Then has to react on his feet to whatever situation his target is placing him in. The one autarkic decision he makes – taking Otto and Co. to Spain – is essentially also a decision that places him back in the slipstream of another agent, Hector. So once again he is deprived of any way of driving the plot himself. He is constantly reduced to merely reacting to the actions of others. – Maybe I have a stereotypical ideal of a hero/protagonist, but somehow it grates with me that the character that has been presented (and promoted!) to me as the identification figure of the show, is not shown as a *(pro)active* character, but as a pawn in a game that is dominated by other players.  A pity, considering how assertive/questioning Daniel can look:

Boom – this one went straight into the feels.

 As did this.

Gun expert Miller?

It follows that the characterisations of Daniel are not always consistent in this show. I didn’t quite understand, for instance, how a character who was initially billed as a desk jockey and no-special-skills agent, now apparently knows his way with guns. Checking and locking the gun in one swift move – where did that suddenly come from? We had been fed hints in season 1 that Daniel was actually *more* than a desk-based analyst from Langley. His expertise with guns hints at that again, as did the early scenes in season 1 of Daniel traipsing around in the Panama jungle. Yet that the jungle scene was never picked up again… Those inconsistencies may seem little details, but they add up, and they mar the viewing experience for me.

Gorgeous lighting

What I really appreciated in BS 2×08, however, were a couple of “shady” scenes. As annoying as fuzzy lighting may appear, the play of light and shadow on Daniel’s face is always gorgeous. Both caps remind me of one of my favourite poems, “He wishes for the cloths of heaven”, by WB Yeats.

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Props

Shoutout to the props department, too: Daniel in front of a world map looked good. Next step world-domination?

For the world you are nobody

But for somebody you are the world

Watching for butt… eh plot, PLOT!

As for the plot, well, I was surprised by a couple of twists. I did not expect Lena to be quite so stupid and get herself picked up by the police. She was rather cold and calculating earlier on in the show, not batting an eyelid when her lover was killed, for instance, or perfectly able to be complicit in stealing a van and killing a security guard, so her panic now seemed out of character for me, and getting herself captured was just a neat way for the show to finish that storyline.

The whole chase sequence, starting with Hector and Daniel breaking into the hired assassin’s house, was suspenseful, especially once they started chasing the car. Special shout-out here for the camera department: Following Daniel at butt-level while he is approaching the parked car in the garage, was ingenious. Fangirl-thanks to you! I also didn’t see it coming that Nick Fisher was behind the assassination of the assassin, so that was a twist for me.

As for plotlines involving other characters: I have never understood what role Noah plays in the show. I get that Robert Kirsch’s son is there to illustrate that spies have a personal life beside their work, too. Yet, the whole teenage son/father conflict is both so boring as well as commonplace, but never drives any of the plot, so that it seems obsolete in the context of the show. Val and Josef’s storyline makes more sense in a way, yet once again I am struck by how unrealistic some of the details are. Josef entirely trusting Valerie with a key to his flat even though he knows she is an (ex)agent? I just can’t believe it. And never mind the recurring issue with how nonchalantly the right-wingers are portrayed in this show! Valerie’s ambiguity when it comes to Josef’s politics, is a real nuisance.

Bottom line

Lots of nice shots for the Daniel Miller fan, but not enough plot.

And now we are on the last stretch. One more episode. It’ll be interesting to see how they tie it all up in the end.

#BerlinStation 2×08: The Penultimate in [Review/Silliness/Spoilers] The review of episode 8 of BS was not really forthcoming for me. I mainly enjoyed this episode of BS for the amount of Richard that was in it.

#Berlin Station #Daniel Miller #Richard Armitage

[theabominableblogger]

My Reaction to “Batman and Robin”

Oh God here we go.  Just in time for the holidays...

*externally screaming*

*deep breath then continues screaming*

What’s with these opening credits?

Do they really have to put creases everywhere on the Batsuit?

Is Robin wearing eyeshadow?!?

Hot Wheels:  The Movie

“This is why Superman works alone.”  Oh God, Superman’s in this universe?

My sister:  It’s the Nicholas Cage version.

You gotta have this big elaborate light show to reveal Dick’s motorcycle

Is that Pat Hingle [as Commissioner Gordon]?  God, just go away.

Not gonna lie, I like the makeup they did for Mr. Freeze’s face

“Hi Freeze, I’m Batman!”

The hole left in the wall when Dick crashes through it is the Robin symbol.  SUBTLE!

“It’s the hockey team from hell!”  I mean, yeah.

Random close ups!

Ice skates!

Freeze just threw that guy straight up in the air.

This whole movie looks like it took place in a rave.  Like, what’s with all the neon lighting in an art museum?

I like the bottom of Mr. Freeze’s boots.  At least he’ll get traction

[Mr. Freeze rockets out of the museum] *sings*  If you want to view paradise...

So where does Freeze find all this time to make these contraptions in the first place?

George Clooney’s acting is like a stick:  it’s wooden

If Dick yells “Cowabunga!,” I swear to God...

“Cowabunga!”  Oh my God no

There is no way Batman can catch up to Mr. Freeze in free fall.  10 ft per second, assholes!

The colors in this movie would legit make a pretty awesome commission color palette

Robin was just frozen mid-air?!?!?

*sing songs*  Shaky cam!

Chuck him [the frozen Robin] at the wall!

Matte painting!

What did she (Dr. Isley) just say?

AN:  We’re only 15 minutes in?!?

Is she [Dr. Isley] speaking into a tube of lipstick?

Antonio Diego?

This whole scene with the introduction to Bane looks like something out of Rocky Horror for some reason.  You got a couple weird people in suits watching the whole thing up on a balcony and you got a wacky-ass scientist with crazy hair

That’s.... gross...

Pointing... more pointing!

So dumping a whole bunch of toxins on Dr. Isley is gonna turn her into a psycho plant seductress?  OK...

I like how the security camera zooms in on Victor becoming Mr. Freeze

George Clooney looks way too smug to be Bruce Wayne for some reason.  Grow some hair!

AN:  Oh my God, we’re only 23 minutes in... *whines* this is a two hour movie!

Dutch Angle!

I do like the purple lighting in the lab

*Poison Ivy appears in the middle of the lab from underground*  How?

“My [Ivy] blood has been replace with aloe, my skin with chlorophyll.”

My sister:  Moisturize your skin with my blood!

Me:  MOISTURIZE ME!

Chlorophyll is a pigment.  If her [Ivy’s] skin is now made up of chlorophyll, shouldn’t she be green?

Is Woodrue’s tongue turning green?

“Hell, I am Mother Nature!”  That’s like probably one of the only good lines in this movie.

*starts singing “Mr. Snow Miser”*

I like Freeze’s polar bear slippers!

This mofo [Freeze] is blue!

Why does Mr. Freeze have a cigar?

This whole movie plot is ripped from an episode of “Batman:  The Animated Series.”  Seriously, the episode’s called “Cold Comfort.”

The actress playing Nora Fries looks waaaay too young for some reason.

George Clooney is wearing a turtleneck... for the love of God, wear something else!

“I’m not used to this type of luxury...”  You [Barbara] go to a boarding school.  Shut up!

This looks like one of the streets used in the Batman TV show in the 60s.

That wig Ivy just put on has the Pulp Fiction bangs

Who’s the lady in the pink suit?

Julie Madison?  Why don’t we see more of her besides being a one-off girlfriend?

OK, I like the trench coat Ivy has on

They used the word “primordial” in the script.  I’m impressed.

“... warm-blooded opressors...” Aren’t you [Ivy] warm-blooded though?  You’re human...

Holy crap the makeup on Mr. Freeze without the costume is great

*The costume ball starts*  This is “The Mask” all over again

This is literally the same set they used for the art museum in the beginning of the movie

There’s a dude in the background wearing a leopard-print tuxedo

*mutters*  The hell is this music?

I actually like the eye makeup on Ivy

“I’ll bring everything you see here and everything you don’t.”  Mic drop.

Was that a banana peel sound effect?

My sister:  Yes it was.

“Good night.”  OK, that was funny.

Where is Ivy still there after Freeze left?

*The camera pans up a giant statue*  HANDSSSSS.... TOUCHING HANDSSSS...

Parkour!

Oh my gosh the CGI

Redbird?

REEED ROBIN YUMMMMM

ExPLOsions...

*The Batmobile gets frozen and crashes*  Oh no, not the merchandise!

“We have very little time.”  For what?

Michael Gough:  MVP of the movie

Did they just use a lightsaber sound effect to indicate the end of the flashback?

Ominous green lighting!

They [the Arkham guards] put him [Freeze] in an ice box...

Whoa...

The tile son the floor in Victor’s cell line up to make a snowflake

*Radioactive ghetto people show up*  I would legit go as one of them for Halloween

This movie is just one big sound stage

Where’d she [Ivy] get the seeds from?

George Clooney legit sounds like Mel Gibson’s John Smith from “Pocahontas”

There’s a floating face!

I think that’s actually Coolio

AN:  Yes it is

What is the point of this whole motorcycle race thing?  There’s literally no point to this scene.

My sister:  Did they just really wanna show off the set?

Me:  Well this movie is literally one giant toy commercial so...

That green screen was terrible

“Alfred’s not sick.  He’s dying.”  Well way to whip that out, movie!

You can tell that they put some effort into the characterization of Freeze in this movie.  It’s just surrounded by a bunch of campy, stupid stuff.

“Men are the most absurd of God’s creations.”  Man was one of the first ones, bitch...

I have the Poison Ivy gif of “Not good!”  saved on my laptop

Sorry Freeze, only one person looks good in chrome

*Freeze freezes the pipes to make them explode*  Well that was quick

Liking the statues of the absolutely ripped dudes on the fireplace mantle in Wayne Manor.  Schumacher, I see you.

*Batman opens up the secret bookcase in Freeze’s old lair to find Nora*  IT’S MISTER WHITE CHRISTMAS, IT’S MISTER SNOW!

I like that there’s a convenient lever from “Heat” to “Freeze”

*Bane beats Robin*  I was wondering what would break first:  your spirit... or your body!

“Why are all the gorgeous ones homicidal maniacs?”  Point!

Oh there you go.  Commissioner Gordon actually did something in this movie.

Is that slime?

“I’m [Dick] going solo!”  But not Han Solo.  He’s not cool enough to be Han Solo

My sister:  He’s whiny enough to be Ben Solo

Me:  Except Ben Solo was written better.

Oh, Ivy’s green boots are awesome

Freeze’s eyes look orange in this scene

“First...” Gotham!

“Gotham!”  Then the world!

“And then... the world!”  Haha!

“Adam... and Evil!”  BOO...

OH MY GOD- oh, that’s Bruce.  OK.

*Bruce and Dick argue over Ivy’s influence over them*  It’s called pheromones, guys.  Everyone has them.

What the... heck was that transition?

Oh I like that dress Ivy’s wearing...

Slow... motion...

Ellie Macpherson (Julie Madison) kinda looks like Jennifer Garner

Oh just smash it [the Bat-signal] in!  You don’t need to actually lift it up!

I just realized what’s wrong with George Clooney in this movie:  it always looks like he has a five o’clock shadow above his top lip

*Bruce hugs Alfred*  Aaawww!

The signature on the portrait wasn’t there a second ago!

*cracks up at the computer saying “Access Granted”*

Why is a telescope powered on crystals?

“... will you trust me now?”  *in best angsty teenage impression*  No, because he’s [Dick] got his eyeshadow on!

OK. Arnold’s evil laugh is getting there.  A little more work then he’s got it

*Barbara puts on her Batsuit*  Eeewww... eeww!

How the hell did Ivy set up her evil lair?

“Hi there.”  *in best George Clooney voice*  Hi Robin, I’m Ivy!

“How about ‘Slippery When Wet?’“ 

*actually has to collapse backwards on floor to laugh*

My sister:  Her eyeshadow’s awesome

Me:  She [Ivy] looks like a drag queen!

My sister:  It’s the eyebrows!

*Robin peels off his rubber lips*  WHAAAAAAA?!?!?!?!?

Oh my God, look at her [Ivy’s] bangles!

Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait!  They rewound the tape when Robin resurfaces from the pool!

My sister:  *sings*  My name’s Blurryface and I care what you think...

*Ivy’s plants suddenly eat her*  ...Why?

Oh she’s not dead.  OK...

*Camera pans up giant statue*  Aaaabbsss... Schumacher loves them...

*Random person in telephone booth gets frozen*  NO, NOT THE TARDIS!

NO, NOT THE DOG!

He was frozen mid-pee though.  Youch.

WHAAT IS THIS?!?!?!?

Why do all the Batsuits have silver accents now?  Unless the silver bits are just snap-on attachments...

*sing songs*  Free-zing... freezing the city!

PLAnets...

My sister:  Now I just want the planetarium fight from “The Great Game” to happen

Me:  Oh my God... we should watch that instead!

My sister:  Right?!?!?

You seriously could take any shot from this movie and all the colors in them would make up an awesome color palette

*Dick unleashes the grappling hook at the last minute and successfully latches onto something*  I CALL BULL!

Where the hell did he [Bane] come from?!?

AN:  Oh God we’re almost done with this movie YAAAAYY!

*Bane literally deflates*  Eeeewwww!

Oh my gosh, that 1997 CGI though

[Some of the ice in the city proceeds to melt]  *sings*  Here comes the sun...

*Mr. Freeze lets out an evil chuckle*  What a story, Mark!

Oh my God, that green screen though!

*The Bat gang manages to get rid of all the ice covering the city*  This... is bull... shit.

The ice actually wiggles on the cop car door!

THERE IS NO WAY BATMAN GOT THAT FOOTAGE OF IVY!

I call bullshit on this whole movie!

Oh, and he [Freeze] just had the cure [to Nora and Alfred] on him the whole time?

OK, I actually liked the music for that scene.  What the heck?

OK, for being a man-hater, Ivy, you’re pretty obsessed about one.

“Winter has come at last.”  Game of Thrones did it better.

The official catchphrase for this movie:  Hi [insert name], I’m [insert other name]

HEELP!  THEY’RE CASTING FOR BATMAN UNCHAINED!

*in best Batman voice*  DON’T MAKE ME PUSH YOU DOWN, O’DONNELL [Robin/Dick]!  I’LL DO ANYTHING TO GET OUT OF THIS FRANCHISE!

#the blogger reacts #batman and robin #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #barbara gordon #batman #robin #mr. freeze #arnold schwarzenegger #poison ivy #george clooney #joel schumacher #bane #mister snow miser #commissioner gordon

[miobambiino]

Hold On Back (Before Stepping Forward)

Gift fic for one of my favourite fanfic authors @musicalluna! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 

"I'm holding you to this, Wilson."

Clint's quip only served to deliver himself a considerably sized handful of snow from Natasha and a long-suffering sigh from Rhodey, who was largely consumed in a startlingly orange SHIELD-issue puffer jacket he'd picked up before everything went to hell on the jet.

Clint had his arm swung round Sam's shoulder, Steve on his other side, helping the injured man trek through the snow.

"Gee thanks, Barton - hey, next time, I won't step in to shove this goon out the way a hail of fire. You'd be cool with that, right man?" Sam shot back without much heat, gesturing toward Steve who was supporting most of Sam's weight on his side. Not that it was particularly strenuous for him, being a super soldier and all.

"'M'not a goon," Steve mumbled through a barely concealed smirk, "I could've handled it jus' fine."

It was supposed to be a straight-forward operation: get in, retrieve the data from the hydra outpost on the Winter Soldier project, and get back out. Sure, they hadn't been cocky about it, they prepared well and took the necessary precautions; what they hadn't counted on, however, were the agents to be armed with extra-terrestrial weaponry. Tony had marked it up to being modified Chitari weaponry. Apparently not even S.H.I.E.L.D had the scope to track down every piece that went missing from the Battle of New York - alien weaponry tended to sell fast and at insane prices on the black market.

The mission had gone as expected up until Hydra pulled the big guns out, literally. Hydra had concentrated their efforts to strike-team alpha - Steve, Bucky, and Sam. Since the loss of their asset, Hydra have been particularly keen on getting their hands back on a super soldier, or two. Sam had only just managed to swoop down to push Steve out of the way of a blast that would surely have immobilised him for the rest of the operation - only in doing so did he crush his left arm under his own and Steve's weight at an unnatural angle.

Hydra weren't incompetent, they knew how to launch an attack. Agents had hounded on each division of the team like a pack of ravenous dogs. By now, they knew what to expect from the Avengers, and were merciless with their approach. Rhodey and Tony had been disabled by an intense EMP developed for their suits especially, delivering excruciating electrical shocks through them, weighed down by motionless tonnes of metal. Sam had a clean break to his arm, and Clint wheezed with each step he took. Possible broken ribs, Steve had thought - praying it wasn't a punctured lung too. Himself and Bucky weren't badly off, though both exhausted enough that the trek in the middle of knee-deep snow was taking its toll. Besides, neither of them had particularly fond memories of the ice.

After hastily retrieving the data they had come for, they withdrew to the quinjet. The jet wasn't much better off than they were, and in the mist of the battle, they hadn't noticed a one piece of critical information.

There was a stowaway onboard.

"Fall back!" Steve hollered which holding Sam to his side, who had taken on a sickly grey tone to his skin. The break was bad, and Sam was only dimly aware of the situation going on around him.

Steve had his back, though. I'm gonna be okay.

Natasha and Clint turned on their heel every so often on their sprint back to the jet, firing minimal but fatal shots to their attackers who were starting to get desperate. Usually, Hydra wanted to keep most of them alive; Avengers made for spectacular bargaining chips - or so they assumed, since it wasn't like they'd ever managed to hold on to one very long (Bucky's time as the Winter Solider doesn't count).

Bucky was waiting for them at the bay doors, watching his teammates' backs as they drew nearer to the jet, using a sniper-rifle to pick out hydra agents who were getting too close for comfort. Clint and Natasha eventually joined him, Nat starting up the engine ready for a hasty retreat.

"Colonel! Can you manage?" Steve had yelled over his shoulder as he neared the bay doors with Sam. Rhodey and Tony were a few short paces behind, both armed but weighed down by the armour they hadn't been able to scramble out of in time.

"Worry about yourself, Rogers!" He shot back with gritted teeth; though the prosthetics wrapped around his legs allowed him to move his legs again, it wasn't exactly easy sailing running through snow while under fire.

They all reached the bay doors, Tony and Steve scrambling on as it began lifting off the ground - they'd wanted to get Sam on first, Rhodey heaving him up from inside the jet. Steve hauled himself up with a grimace, automatically reaching for the scruff of Tony's undersuit and yanking him the rest of the way up unceremoniously too.

That earned him a steely glare from Tony, who shrugged off Steve's arm and stood up just as the bay doors firmly closed behind them with a small hiss.

"I'm capable of managing myself, thanks." Tony breathed out as he brushed past Steve towards the cockpit where Nat was driving the jet forward. Steve watched as the smaller man sauntered off and hefted himself into the co-pilot seat, tapping in co-ordinated for the nearest landing zone occupied by friendlies. Steve huffed out a barely suppressed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose firmly, pursing his lips tightly together.

"Didn't say you were, Stark." He said, mostly to himself. Since the ordeal with the accords, the team had shoddily come back together for 'the greater-good', as out by Agent Hill. Hydra may have crawled back into the shadows they had come from, but they were certainly no-less of a threat than they had been before. If anything, their recent losses to Cap and his team made them itching to strike back, harder and more efficiently. Steve was so tired of fighting them, a bone-deep kind of tired that permanently was etched into his features.

Cut off one head, two more shall grow in its place.

A stifled groan escaping Sam's lips drew his head out of the back of his mind - somewhere he was venturing far too often these days, and he came to his side.

"Hey listen man, I know I fucked up back there, I didn’t pan it all the way through. It really could of gone better-"

"Don't- just don't put this on yourself, Sam" Steve cut in, "the op was going to hell before you were down, we-"

This time it was Sam that cut him off, "I don't regret doing it, hell, I know it was going to shit before I went and broke my damn arm, but still, I held you and Buck back. Pro'ly would've gone better if I landed right but," Sam hissed as Steve wrapped up his injured arm, but carried on a beat later, seemingly ignoring what was bound to be an apology from Steve, "but, like I said, I'm not going to be sorry for saving your ass - again."

That earned a snort from Steve, who finished up wrapping his arm when Clint plonked himself down on the bench opposite Sam. The archer tsked as he adjusted his quiver, loosening it up off his shoulder, shaking his head slowly.

"Can't take this guy anywhere," he drawled playfully. Sam eyed him dubiously, a quirk playing on the corner of his mouth. "See, if you landed on your own two feet instead of - you know - your fuckin' face, we might've had a slightly smoother exit back there."

Clint was clearly joking as an effort to ease the sense guilt he and Steve both knew Sam was harbouring. He's saved Steve and probably actually given them a great chance of getting out alive - two super-soldiers is better than one, after all. Though, Sam had felt particularly useless while he was consumed in agony and had to rely on Steve to keep his head on straight while they made their escape.

"C'mon Sam, don't flatter yourself, you aren't all that hard to carry you know" Steve smiled at his friend, who returned the expression albeit slightly twisted in pain. "And he landed in his arm, not his face, Clint."

"Huh, why's it look all funny like that then?" Clint asked, feigning genuine curiosity. Sam merely rolled his eyes, nonchalantly taking his right combat boot off to throw at the archer's head.

"Violence is not key" Nat's voice rang from the front of the jet, not taking her eyes off the windscreen for a moment while she steered them away from any immediate danger.

They hydra outpost was desolate and practically impossible to reach on foot. Out in the wilderness of Norway, it had been hard enough locating the outpost which - like most of hydra's bases - was underground. The landscape was covered in a thick layer of snow, making the mountains in the distance barely visible through the snowfall which was beginning to pick up at a reasonably worrying pace.

"We're low on fuel, Tony, is there anywhere we can set down in range or do I just land us in the next clearing?" Natasha's face was set with grim determination. She was the same after every mission, only tending to her own injuries until they were definitely out of the fray; not that she ever let on to anyone she was hurting. That had been one of the first things trained out of her - showing weakness.

Tony huffed in frustration, and smacked the dash fruitlessly when the systems wouldn't cooperate properly. This was his tech, damn it! It should be fully operational no matter the weather - snow storm be damned.

"Nada I'm afraid," Natasha tossed a glance his way and a frown made its way between her brows.

"'Nada?' Seriously?" Tony just nodded in response, glancing back with a tight-lipped smile when Rhodey appeared over their shoulders.

"God, don't pull that face, it's not near as assuring as you think it is." Rhodey laughed softly, then directed his attention to Nat.

"Systems aren't fully functional, though you've probably figured that out for yourself." The man said as he shuffled into a seat behind them, leaning forward into their space from his seat. "Must've become compromised by stray shots from the agents back there. Best bet is to land somewhere far enough away from that mountain range - we need a signal strong enough to get back a message to base to come get us out of here."

Natasha nodded, and began to open her mouth when a loud electrical whine sounded from under the jet. After a moment the whine grew into an even louder blast that thrummed through the belly of the jet.

Steve and Bucky shot up from where they stood, only to stumble when the jet shuddered unnaturally. Clint reached across towards Sam and strapped him in, despite the other man's protests, and gripped firmly onto one of the bright yellow handles swinging idly from the ceiling of the jet.

"What the fuck was-" Clint's surprised outburst was interrupted with the unmistakable sound of metal groaning underneath them.

Not a moment later the right engine startled to a halt, sending a few of them sliding into the opposite wall. The jet veered downwards, and alarms began blaring throughout the jet, seeing streaks of red lights across the interior.

Steve barely had a second to bark out a command to hold on before another blast rung through the jet, and the second engine failed on them. Steve felt his stomach suspended until it made a sickening drop and the jet plummeted downwards. Natasha unbuckled herself from the pilot seat, and in an instant as lunging behind the cockpit, hauling Tony with her and pushing Rhodes backwards with the force she exerted. Tony yelped before springing into action and holding onto his best friend, dragging them both to the back of the jet where Barnes was currently punching in an emergency code to open the bay doors.

Nat knew just as well as Bucky that they had a better chance of survival making a jump for it out the bay doors than being in the cockpit, where they'd most likely be skewered by the glass of the windshield when it shattered on impact.

The doors hissed open and immediately the team were encompassed my the freezing-cold air whipping through the door. Bucky grabbed onto one of the yellow handles with this metal arm and craned his head out the door, judging the drop distance from the falling aircraft.

His head whipped back to face the team, faces set determinedly, and yelled over the loud whistle of air around them.

"We gotta jump on my count or it ain't gonna be a pretty landing!" He bellowed at them, while Steve approached him, gripping into his friend's shoulder giving a reassuring squeeze.

"On his mark!" Steve repeated behind him, while Nat pulled Sam to her side, bracketing her body against his to insulate the fall in the hope of avoiding injuring his arm any more that it already was.

Tony felt Rhodey's arm wrap around his side and pull his securely against his side. He wasn't taking any chances of loosing Tony out in the middle of nowhere. Again.

Then Barnes issued the order, and they jumped.

They'd been walking for almost two hours when they spotted it.

They were all worse for ware, to say the least. Sam's arm had turned a dark maroon colour, and he could barely seem to focus on walking. Natasha had a limp even she couldn't hide, and Clint's wheezing rattled his chest. Steve and Bucky weren't bad off, but both were sporting a number of deep purpling bruises and more than a few cuts which were bleeding sluggishly.

Rhodey's legs were struggling; even if the snow wasn't knee-deep, the amount of time he was on his feet had well exceeded  doctor's recommendations. Tony hobbled besides him supporting the majority of his friend's weight, keeping unusually quiet.

They all were silent. The last time anyone really piped up was half an hour ago, after Clint had erupted in heaving coughs and Nat had swore loudly when a splatter of crimson spat from his lips, violently contrasting against the sheet of white snow they were ploughing through. Definitely a punctured lung then, Steve thought grimly, resolutely trying to force down an emerging sense of dread from the pit of his stomach.

An hour before that Clint and Sam had been exchanging quips, keeping up morale. Though at this point, no amount of familiar banter could distract any of them from the fact that the longer they were out here uncovered, the worse off they'd be.

Upon surveilling the crash sight, they found their systems had been hijacked and dismantled, preventing FRIDAY from reading for any other life-signatures or readings of foreign devices on board. One ambitious Hyrda agent had concealed themselves in the belly of the jet, with a huge electromagnetic bomb strapped to their chest. On detonation, it released a shock thought the jet, sending its systems into shut-down.

The agent's mangled body, proudly clutching the hydra badge on his uniform, was all the evidence they needed to make the conclusion that Hyrda was sending out kamikaze's now.

They heaved a collective sigh of relief (well, in Clint's case, wheeze of relief) when Nat announced she spotted what looked like a shack of some kind. Any form of shelter was welcome at this point, they'd just been following a sparse amount of trees in the landscape hoping to end up near water. Usually by water there was some form of civilisation. The trees had grown more concentrated in the lead up to the cabin as it turned out to be, and Steve's heavy footsteps where all anyone could hear as they all waited at the foot of the cabin, waiting for their Glorious Leader to pry it open.

Not exactly the kind of civilisation they had hoped for, the cabin definitely hadn't been lived in for a long time judging by how stiff the door was and the coat of dust covering the minimal amount of furniture inside.

They all filed in, up the steps made of cobblestone and through the low arching wooden doorway of the cabin. It wasn't small, but not exactly spacious for seven people - let alone Avengers - to live in. But it was enough. There was a small kitchenette furnished with an old timely stove with rusting gas knobs, a coal furnace, and a few wooden cupboards that perhaps had a few rations in them - if they were lucky. Across from there was a cosy sitting area, consisting of two ratty sofa's that wouldn't look out of place abandoned on a sidewalk somewhere in Boston, an arm chair missing an arm, and an old Turkish rug. in the far right corner was a round wooden table with a five mismatch chairs, all of which looked like they'd probably snap under any of their weights - except maybe Nat (and Tony, but he would deeply resent being called little).

Steve and Natasha got to work searching for possible food in the kitchenette, while Bucky and Clint lead Sam to one of the sofas. Clint sat himself down with a groan, and Tony silently perched on the arm of the sofa, gently prying away the archer's vest to get a better look at his damaged ribs. Rhodey shut the door once everyone was inside, and noticed the small fireplace tucked behind one of the sofas. Bucky noticed too, and the two silently pushed the sofa into another position so they could access the fireplace, then began searching for anything they could burn. After all, Inside or not, it was fucking cold.

Clint eyed Tony warily as the smaller man gently felt around his ribs, trying to get an idea on the damage. Since the ordeal with the accords and the barbs Clint had directed at Tony from behind bars, their once playful friendship had become cold and unsettled. Clint had trusted Tony, but after the... disagreement (he refused to call it a Civil War, for gods' sake), he had questioned whether Tony had their best interests in mind or his own.

Though, Clint did feel moderately guilty for ever having doubted his friend, because yes, despite it all they were still friends. Hell, even he and Nat had disagreed, so maybe he'd been hasty to judge Tony's motives. Maybe.

Tony surveyed Clint for a few minutes, eventually pulling away and looking Clint in the eye.

"Well, you're not gonna die of a punctured lung," Tony finally declared dryly, and the room's tension seemed to alleviate slightly. "I'm not Bruce - though he would just say 'I'm not that kind of doctor, Tony' - but your ribs are definitely broken. You're a lucky son'f-bitch that it hasn't punctured anything, but it will if you move too much."

"He won't be." Nat cut in, levelling Clint with a glare that read, you better not be so long as I'm here, asshole.

"So not gonna die of a punctured lung," Clint mused, "hooray for small victories."

"Nah, but you might if you don't get that disinfected." Tony said as he nodded casually at the gash in Clint's other side where his quiver had dug into him on impact of their less-than-graceful landing.

"But why the-" Tony finished Clint's sentence for him.

"The coughing-up blood thing? Yeah, not what you thought it was. It's not bleeding in your lungs, but looks like you're bleeding internally somewhere else. Nothing much," Tony added when Sam turned to took at the two of the with wide, concerned eyes, "probably just knocked something on the impact, but take it easy, y'know, in case."

Clint grimaced, then sucked in a sharp breath when Natasha appeared over his shoulder with a rag soaked in alcohol, dabbing it over the wound without so much as a warning.

Steve surveyed the situation from the kitchen; Bucky and Sam were talking in hushed voices, Buck wrapping Sam's broken arm up in a makeshift swing from a ripped up shirt (his ripped up shirt, he noticed fondly), Nat was sorting out Clint, pretending not to notice the way Clint was glowering at her ankle, which come to think of it was bending rather oddly. Rhodey and Tony sat I front of the fireplace, Rhodey starting up a fire and Tony checking the prostheses structure supporting Rhodey's legs.

Steve still felt guilt like a wave of nausea at the sight of it.

He and Tony hadn't spoken one-on-one much since the team had haphazardly come back together. They put their differences aside to tackle the ever growing threat of hydra, and other newly emerging terrorist groups with genocide on their agenda.

While Tony was quieter around him nowadays, he was unusually so at the moment. Steve was about to chalk it up as being concerned for his teammates (family a small voice at the back of his mind substituted), when Tony quietly got up and wandered over to one of the dubious looking chairs around the table at the back. The smaller man sat down quietly, chair creaking ominously but staying put, and Tony undid the zip if his undersuit, clearly looking for something underneath.

From where he stood, Steve couldn't see what, but he could see blood, and the way Tony's hands shook as we went for a bottle of ethanol he'd brought with him to the table. Steve often wondered why Nat seemed so easygoing with Stark, and eventually Steve caught on to the fact the two were remarkably similar in a number of ways. For one, they both chewed out the others for hiding any injuries, taking the responsibility of making them better into their own hands, but then slinking off to lick their own wounds in private.

Clint was now observing Nat's ankle ("dammit Nat you shouldn't have been walking in this unsupported for so long" "as if I wanted to lean on you, govniuk, you were spitting blood, it was gross") so Steve strode over to where Tony was sat, and noticed the way Tony immediately yanked the zipper of his undersuit back up.

"Shy all 'a sudden, Stark?" Steve drawled, a twang of his Brooklyn accent seeping into his words. Tony merely looked unimpressed, but the awkward twitch of his fingers under the table made Steve  pity him, and he dropped the snark.

Steve knelt in front of Tony's chair (no way in hell would he sit on one of those impending disasters), reached across Tony from the bottle, and without further notice pulled the zipper of the undersuit down, revealing the man's very battered torso. Tony was about to protest when Steve but in, "I was in the war, Tony, s'not like I ain't seen fellas naked before."

Tony ignored the way Steve's Brooklyn drawl made his heart flutter because dammit he hasn't felt that way since Before™. Tony was at a loss for words for a moment before his mouth came up with

"You just said 'snot'."

"I said 'it's not', there's a difference," Steve paused before adding with a smirk, "shellhead."

"You totally did not, Rogers, and quit acting like I'm embarrassed. You have googled me, right? A few pages into YouTube and I'm pretty sure Perez Hilton has a sex-tape of mine from the 90's."

"You made a sex-tape with Perez Hilton? Gross, man" Clint snorted as he came to perch on the back of the sofa, facing the table Tony and Steve were sat at.

"Don't even joke about that, I'm shocked and offended and would like you to go away. I've had enough of you. Goodbye." Clint just chuckled in response to Tony, and it felt good, familiar.  There was an unspoken element of hope in the air that things could get back to normal, and Steve ducked his head to hide the smile that played on his lips.

Steve took the opportunity of Tony distracted in his banged with Clint to peek under the fold of the zipper, revealingly a deep cut in Tony's abdomen. Steve winced before pouring the alcohol at it, holding Tony firmly in place while the other man let out a started Yelp and hiss of pain. He couldn't tell from the outside of the undersuit Tony was hurt, which was predominantly due to the fact the dark material made it extremely difficult to see the bleeding.

"Jesus fuck, Cap, could you have given me a heads-up first?" Tony hissed out in rapid breaths as Steve began to reach for the first aid kit he kept in one of the pockets on his utility belt ("you're such a Boy Scout oh my god, Steve, are you shitting me right now?!" "Barton be quiet") and pulled out a small amount of thread and needle saved for wounds that even the serum sometimes needed help healing.

"Nope, 'cause you would'a just kept fidgeting - hold still, Stark!"

Rhodey just listened to the fuss his friend was making, smiling and shaking his head fondly as he got up from the fireplace where a reasonable fire was now starting to burn, and set down next to Sam where Barnes had not long been sitting.

"How's it holding up?" Rhodes tried, eyeing the somewhat shoddy-looking sling that hung around Sam's shoulder.

"Would like to say it's fine, but, shit if it doesn't make wanna make me throw up!" Sam laughed shakily, earning a smile from the older man in return. Sam and Rhodey had gotten on like house on fire before the accords, both being military men through and through. Sure, Rogers was too, but after many a late night at college with a seventeen year-old Tony Stark drunkenly ranting about never being good enough for 'Dear-Old Dad', and then catching wind of what was said on the helical river of their first meeting, Rhodey was less inclined to like the Captain. Yes, it was mildly petty of him but damn that man for making his best friend feel so small. He'd worked very hard to get that out of him over the years, thank you very much, Rogers.

It was nice, being able to have a conversation with Sam again without any underlying heated argument. Since hydra's attacks became more frequent and more concentrated, putting their own differences aside was necessary, and dammit if it wasn't refreshing to just talk.

Natasha watched with a growing sense of fondness at the scene before her, then becoming acutely aware of someone watching her - not that she let it show. Her and James hadn't ever really spoken since Bucky was just Bucky and not the Winter Soldier. There was a time when she'd have given anything to see him again, to speak to him alone because he was hers. Now, she wasn't even sure he truly remembered her. He looked as if he recognised her, the same way you recognise a stranger you passed on the street in a dream. He looks at her as if trying to figure something out, which he undoubtably is, but Natasha doesn't give anything away.

Natasha Romanoff met Bucky Barnes for the first time in a jail cell in Wakanda. Natasha Romanoff met the a Winter Soldier for the first time on a roadside protecting her mechanic. Natalia Romanova met James for the first time as a young girl in the Red Room, but she doesn't even know how much of her James is left in Bucky.

"Are you just going to loom, Barnes, or can I help you with something?" She asked dryly after a few moments. She eyed James Bucky from where she leant over the counter of the kitchenette. If he was startled he didn't show it, and simply stepped more clearly into her line of sight.

"S'gonna get even colder soon, did you manage to get much from the wreckage?" He spoke quietly, yet could be heard as clear as a bell.

"Some essentials," she replied, "emergency food, spare clothes - ones in one piece, that is, flashlights, first-aid, few rounds of ammo. It's all that I could really recover." Bucky nodded in understanding, the jet had been a wreck when it landed; they all salvaged as much as they could, but they weren't exactly in an abundance of supplies.

Almost as if on queue, Clint who had slunk  of at some point to rummage around the cabin emerged what looked like spare rags, throws, blankets, and if Natasha wasn't mistaken a rug. Sam had also seemed to notice the same thing.

"I don't care what any of y'all say, I'm not using a damn rug as a blanket. Dibs on the red one." Sam declared, and Natasha plucked the red blanket  from the pile tossed it in Sam's direction.

"All right," Steve announced, standing up from his perching position on the floor, "I say we rest now, get some energy and figure out food when we wake up. After that maybe one of use will be sane enough to think of some way we get outta this mess."

The nods and hums of approval from the others settled it, and they all began to gravitate towards the warmth of the fire. Bucky secured the door shut, shifting a heavy bucket of wet rocks of coal that sat by the doorframe in front of the door as a half-assed barricade.

Rhodey of course got to stretch his legs out across a sofa to himself, and Clint occupied the other to take any strain of his ribs that he might've gotten sleeping on the floor. Sam took the pillows of the armchairs and made himself a makeshift mattress, which no one complained about given the state of his arm.

This left Bucky, Nat, Tony, and Steve to lie on the rug in the middle. For a while they lead awkwardly, trying their upmost to avoid nudging each other, until Nat sighed and let her head roll onto Tony's shoulder. She felt him tense momentarily underneath her, until relaxing and turning to face her slightly, enjoying the warmth radiating off her small frame. Eventually Steve and Bucky let go of their reluctance and settled into the others, shifting comfortably until the adrenaline of the day wore off, and they succumbed to sleep.

When Tony woke, it wasn't light like he was expecting.

They had all been ridiculously tired and hurt - Tony assumed the only chance of it still being dark when he woke up was if he slept until the next evening, which it definitely was not. No way would the others have let him sleep that long, they enjoy distrusting his sleep far too much.

The moonlight made the snow outside glow softly, subtly illuminating parts of the cabin. Tony shifted to sit up slightly, careful not to press on his new stitches thanks to Steve. For a guy with large hands, Steve had a remarkable skill for detail, probably because of all the time he spent sketching privately.

Tony plucked himself out of Steve's grip, who apparently locked his arms around his waist in his sleep. Steve'd never do that consciously, surely (right?). Looking down fondly at the blonde, the hairs on the back of Tony's neck stood up suddenly, sending chill down his spine - not a pleasant one, either. Glancing around the room, Tony took a sudden intake of breath when he noticed Barnes had silently gotten up too, looking alarmingly alert for such an ungodly hour in the morning.

Barnes' mouth was set in a thin line, barely making a sound as he breathed. He's listening for something, Tony realised, when a noise outside drew his attention towards to door. He almost didn't hear it, but a rustle of movement beside him and Nat was now wide awake too.

Something wasn't right then.

Soundlessly, the three of them got up and crept across the floor of the cabin, Bucky nudging Steve awake as he did so, bringing a finger to his lips when Steve eyed him curiously and was about to speak up. Steve clearly sensed something was wrong too, and joined Natasha in looking carefully out the window through the drapes, riddled with holes and frayed at the tips.

Tony felt his heart beating in his mouth, and swallowed down the stir of dread pooling in his gut.

Pulling on boots and coats, the four of them regarded each other before Steve spoke in a hushed tone to them, "I say three of us check the area, and someone stays behind to keep watch if the others." Clint, Sam, and Rhodey were all fast asleep, oblivious to the tension around them, deeply sedated on the pain meds they managed to scramble together from the wreckage earlier.

Tony noticed the other three looking at him expectantly, and he huffed an air of annoyance. Of course, because he was without his suit he should be the one to stay behind, because without it, he's as good as a civilian. Steve read as much on Tony's scowl, and sighed gently.

"Stark- Tony, it's not that you aren't capable-"

"But I'm not as capable as you, got it."

Steve didn't look pleased by this, but ignored the comment in leu of the current situation. Like the fact they've probably been found by hydra, who's forces are currently trying to ambush them.

Sounds about right, Tony mused. Nat, Barnes, and Steve took a final once-over of the scene from the window and filed outside, gens turning signals to each other as they went.

Steve head out first, making a gesture behind himself a few yards from the cabin. With his left arm, he raised his forearm up, making an 'o' shape with his hand.

Hurry up.

Before they'd slunk out the door, they'd grabbed their handguns fixed with silencers. Nat and Barnes followed up behind Cap in a wedge formation, keeping enough distance between each other to get a good scope of the area around them. Tony craned his neck out the door as much as he could until all three were out of sight. The trees were much denser in this area which made the threat of an ambush much more likely.

Ten minutes past and Tony still hadn't seen or heard from the others. Rhodey had woken up, not nearly on as main pain meds as Sam and Clint, and had a pistol in hand from his spot on the sofa. Tony cursed whatever hydra goon had set off the EMP immobilising the suit. He and Rhodey had had to abandon most of their armours, not having enough time to get it back into working order. They'd made sure to blow it up first of course before retreating back to the jet.

Tony had kept his gauntlets on, and the reactor of course, and was currently in the process of trying to boot them back up. Without the reactor at full capacity though, it was a long and tedious process.

Another 10 minutes passed (well, actually 8 minutes, 37 seconds, 38, 39...) and Tony heard the muffled sound of a gunshot spit through the silence on the night air. Looking back at Rhodey for a moment, Tony thought fuck it, they probably could do with some help, and made a dash for it out of the door, into the cold biting air outside.

Clicking the door shut behind him, Tony scurried to the nearest evergreen to get some kind of shelter while he surveyed the area. His breath frosted in front of his nose, and be took a moment to control his breathing before heading in the last direction he saw the others go. Following in that direction, Tony regarded the bootprints left in the snow. Hydra issue combat boots had a distinction tread mark, and Tony followed them cautiously. As far as the hydra agents knew, only three Avengers we're currently out on the scene.

Hearing the crunch of snow underfoot a few feet ahead, Tony poked out from behind a large fir tree, adjusting the silencer into his gun, and picked off two hydra goons in two practised shots. Venturing out and searching the agents of anything useful, Tony heard a commotion a few yards ahead. Setting off in a sprint, Tony came to the edge of a clearing, throwing himself onto the ground before a steep drop into the clearing.

Steve was there, wrestling three agents off his back. One agent deliver a swift jab to his gut, only slightly making Steve double over, before he delivered a far more devastating uppercut to the hydra goon's chin, knocking him out cold. Steve then grappled with the agent over his back, trying to crush his windpipe with the rifle he was carrying. Steve got a grip on the rifle and tossed his attacker over his shoulders, where the guy landed in a graceless pile at Steve's feet. Scrambling for a handgun, the agent was cut short with a swift step to the neck from Steve.

The crack of bone breaking reverberated through the trees, and the third agent panicked momentarily before Steve shot him between the eyes in one graceful movement.

Steve was panting, shoulders heaving with adrenaline and fists clenching and unclenching as he caught his breathe. Tony kicked himself internally for not coming out sooner, since they clearly had needed the extra support. Steve was tired, which said a hell of a fucking lot about the current mess they were in. Tony was about to make his presence know to Steve when a spot of light caught his eye from amongst the trees a few yards behind Steve, who was busy kneeling down beside the agents, searching them for anything useful. A figure stepped out the shadows, raising a large looking blade into an offensive position.

Tony swallowed hard, then set his face determinedly, raising his own gun directed at the agent. Tony didn't want to risk yelling at Steve to warn him, since the agents reaction would be too unpredictable. Too many variables he is not willing to test.

Once in range, Tony focuses the barrel of the gun on the mark and pulled the trigger.

Click

Wait, no. No, no, no, no,

Click Click Click

The chamber was empty. Fantastic.

Grunting in frustration and feeling the sudden build up of panic and dread, Tony did the only rational thing he could think of, and lunged.

Steve spun around at the commotion, gun raised, before lowering it when he saw Tony. Tony was leapt down from a hight like a bat out of hell and sent himself and - and a hydra agent (how did he miss that, damn it?) skidding across the clearing.

The agent rolled Tony over onto his back and swung a meaty just at Tony's nose, grinning when it crunched under the impact. Tony kneed the guy in the groin, turning them both over again and began beating the agent again and again and again until he saw blood. Steve stood frozen for a few precious moments before running forward - and gracelessly slipping on ice.

His body landed with a ear-splitting crack on the ground, and for a moment everything stopped.

Tony had paused, fist frozen mid-air, and the agent's eyes were blown wide and startled. Steve only had a moment to realise what was happening; the deep echoing crack underneath them, and a split in the ice coming from under his body, headed like a bold of electricity towards the fight I front of him.

Steve didn't dare breathe.

Another large and ominous sound echoed underneath Tony and the agent, before Tony's eyes met his, panicked and wide, and Steve barely had a moment to call for Tony's name before the ice gave way and the two men out on the ice went crashing though the surface into the freezing cold mercy depths below.

"Tony!"

The shock of the freezing water sent Tony reeling back, thrashing against the water. He felt hands tighten around his jacket, pulling him under, pushing on his head, forcing it down and scrambling over his body.

Tony was loosing the feeling in his extremities, face burning with the cold. The other man forced him down again and again, as if he were nothing more than a buoy. 

Tony's vision flashed bright white, the smell of blood and sweat thick in his throat suddenly, the burn on hot sand on his knees - but he was so cold - hands grabbing him by the roots of his hair, the scruff of his shirt, forcing him under vile water, making him retch uncontrollably when they brought him up, only to shove him back down before he could breathe again.

Breathe, breathe, God he needed to just breathe.

They brought him back up, and the gulped down the hot air like he was starving for it, only when we did, he choked and his airways flooded with ice, choking him intensely. Tony was suddenly grossly aware that he wasn't in Afghanistan, he was drowning in a frozen lake in the middle of nowhere, scrambling for life with a fucking Nazi.

Tony thrashed against the other man, biting down on the hand forcing his head deeper under the surface. He tasted copper in the water around him, kicking furiously to break the surface.

Until a boot collided with his nose, and everything went impossibly darker.

Natasha and James had broken off from Steve after noticing stray Hyrda lackeys attempting to establish a perimeter around their refuge. Like the agents they encountered at the base, they were heavily armed, but there were fewer of them this time. Much fewer.

Bucky was never a deep sleeper, especially after the war. Hearing the crunch of snow distantly outside woke him in an instant; he was surprised to see Tony awake - there was no way Tony with his regular hearing would have heard the approaching ambush, but perhaps a part of him sensed it, or whatever, Bucky thought.

Steve had followed the agents who split off eastward, while Nat and he stalked after the ones headed the other direction. The agents must've followed them in a jet of their own, though must have been thrown off course after the jet crashed. No doubt the snow concealed their tracks from the wreckage not long after they marched onwards.

Nat was in her element here, she'd trained in worse conditions than this. Raising her gun up, she didn't shiver even a bit, just followed at the heels of u suspecting agents through the thick foliage. Once they were both in range, they began taking shots at the ambush team, ducking for cover under slopes coated in sheets of snow. Bucky sprung from behind a fallen fir, driving his metal fist into an agent's chest, hearing it crack violently and the guy propelled backwards into two other agents, who had a moment to look panicked until Nat had delivered two precise marks into their skulls.

Not before long, Bucky and Natasha established their area as clear, before going to regroup with Steve. Jogging through the uneven landscape, kicking up snow as they went, they heard a large commotion ahead. Speeding up their pace, they emerged in a small clearing before Natasha suddenly came to a stop, red locks falling in front of her pale features, flushed pink from the biting cold, framing her face delicately.

"Wait," she whispered in a low tone, sticking her hand out at the same time, making a stop gesture to Bucky. Buck crouched down low upon seeing the scene in front of them, as if readying himself, monitoring the situation before him.

"Oh that stupid son of a bitch."

Steve was led on the ice, unmoving but hyper-aware of his surroundings. In his line of sight, Tony was straddling an agent, both of whom were frozen mid-scramble. Natasha raised her gun, reading herself to take the shot if the agent tried anything smart, when the ice cracked - echoing around the small valley they were in, before crunching and collapsing, dropping Tony and the lackey into the inky-black waters below.

Steve sprung upwards, ready to jump in to get Tony, when a stiffness overtook his body. It froze his arms at his side, he grit his teeth and trying to surge forwards, only to be betrayed by his own two feet, which were currently digging his heels into the ground.

It's not the Atlantic, you're not on that fucking plane. You. Are. Not.

Steve retreated this in his head like a mantra, but still couldn't will himself to move. Sucking in one last breath of air, Steve jumped as Bucky slid past him, and dove headfirst into the ice.

"Cap! Get back, the ice won't hold both of you!" came Nat's voice behind him.

Steve looked vaguely guilty before darting forward, until he saw Bucky break though the surface, Tony tucked under his arm. Through clenched teeth, Bucky hauled himself through the water. After one failed attempt at trying to climb back out the same hole, the soldier resorted to smashing the ice separating him from the bank of the lake. Steve began doing the same, and within a minute or two, was hauling the two men out the lake.

Bucky collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, dropping a limp Tony on his back on the bank. Tony's eyes were blown wide, and his nose was at an awkward angle, gushing with blood. Natasha scooped him up, supporting him from under his armpits,mane started leading him back to the cabin, Steve and Bucky a few short paces behind.

"Why didn't you fucking tell us what was going on - is that Ton- what the hell happened?!" Came Clint's voice hollering through the tree's. He was a few yards in front of the cabin entrance, absolutely seething. Storming forward, Clint hooked an arm round Tony and wordlessly helped Nat take him inside.

When Steve and Bucky stood through the door, Sam glared back at them. Shaking his head, he took one last glance outside, and tentatively shut the door. Rhodey had thrown more paper onto the fire, and Tony was set down in front of it. He was dripping wet, and Rhodey threw blanket after blanket over his friend. Bucky lingered back, until Sam approached his side.

"You're soaked through - don't try and tell me super soldiers don't feel the cold, you need to start warming yourself back up, and I don't care if it hurts your dignity," Sam pushed Bucky down by his shoulder, plonking him next to Tony, and bringing the blankets that currently swamped Tony over the other man's shoulders too.

Bucky shifted awkwardly next to Tony, who was barely suppressing the body-wracking shudders escaping from his control.

"Here," Steve knelt down beside Tony, while the others were pottering around, casting cautious looks out the windows and preparing some kind of herbal tea.

"Thanks - thank you, Tony, you had my back out there and I'm just sorry I-" Steve fumbled for the right worlds, before signing and settling on, "I promise I'll have your back next time, Shellhead."

Tony flinched when Steve pressed a cold rag against his nose, screwing his eyes shut at the pain ebbing from the break. When he opened them again, a soft expression passed over the blonde's features. Tony briefly returned the look, before settling his eyes over his hands.

"I do think you're capable, Tony," Steve said softly so only they could hear (well, Bucky could too, but he was strategically very hard on anything but the exchange going on beside him) "It's just, you take it the wrong way," Bucky whistled lowly, hissing a breath of air in an obvious cringe, and Steve backtracked quickly.

"I mean- it's not your fault, you haven't done anything wrong, you're just so, modest?" Tony raised his eyebrows at that; not at the way it had been posed as a question, but the fact no one had every called Tony Stark modest.

"You assume the worst out of things when it comes to yourself, but it's only because, well because I care."

Bucky had to stop himself snorting when he saw Steve glance at him thought the corner of his eye, as if to ask, was that the right thing to say?

Clearly it was, because the tension from Tony's shouldered rolled off, and he gave a tentative smile.

"Back at you, Cap," and with that, Steve got up and wandered over to the others, giving Tony a pat on the shoulder as he went by.

Tony and Bucky sipped at their tea, resolutely not looking at each other, before Bucky opened his mouth, mumbling into his drink, "'Back at you, Cap'? God, that was awful".

Tony scowled in Bucky's direction, who still hadn't lifted his eyes from his mug - but was definitely smirking into his drink - when Clint plopped himself down on the sofa next to them.

"S'good job you're rich, or you'd be stuck like that forever man," Clint interrupted, pulling a face at the awkward angle of Tony's nose, "Shit you look ugly."

Sam swatted the archer over the back of the head, kissing his teeth at the man in disapproval. Rhodey sat on the couch by Tony, leaning down and tilting his friend's chin upwards, evaluating the damage to his face, before placing a hand either side of his head firmly.

"Man, I won't lie to you, this will hurt just a little bit," Rhodey said matter of factly, ignoring the way Tony's expression morphed from one of confusion to sudden panic.

"No, no Rhodey do not-!"

Crack.

"Motherfucker, you son-of-a- fuck!" Tony groaned dramatically, grasping his hand over his newly adjusted nose. The others just chucked around him, until their laughter grew louder and more hysterical. Tony's groaning turned to giggles, though the occasional fuck hiccuped between them.

Natasha brandished two steaming mugs of tea in front of Tony and Bucky, snorting loudly at Tony's purpling face. Shaking her head, she fetched a wash-cloth from the kitchenette sink, and carefully scrubbed the trail of blood cascading down Tony's nose, lips, and chin.

Daylight was starting the break over the horizon, illuminating the snow outside, casting a soft glow into the cabin.

"Uh - what the fuck is this?" Sam asked carefully, eyeing the viscous white-goo Steve had just played up in front of him.

"C'mon its not that bad, it's just porridge and- stuff. It's good for you! Probably-?" He muttered the last part to himself, eyeing his own creation dubiously before settling down in his seat on the back of the couch, facing the small table.

Bucky, Natasha, and Clint all ate the food wordlessly, getting it down their throats without even tasting it. Rhodey did the same, albeit with a grimace, while Sam and Tony prodded at it, eyes filled with concern.

Should it be this sticky? Tony's eyes screamed at Sam, who just helplessly shrugged in response.  

"Just eat it, Wilson, we can't exactly order take-out right now - it's what we've got." Steve said, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Well we didn't actually try-"

"What would we do, make smoke signals?" Rhodey grinned at his friend.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, only interrupted by the scrape of cutlery against the various pots and pans they ate from.

"You reckon you could piece something together?"

Tony looked up and noticed Barnes had directed the question at him, all eyes on his expectantly. Tony set his spoon down and leant back in his chair, considering.

"Well, sure. It won't be hard per-say - I can salvage something from the tech on your suits, make a communication devise or something that tells someone where we are. If we're lucky, S.H.I.E.L.D. will be looking for us-"

"They are" Natasha stated matter-of-factly, before letting Tony continue.

"-okay, but we're in the middle of nowhere, and with what we have to hand, I doubt anything I could make from it would reach far enough, we have no satellite dishes or anything to transmit a strong enough frequency-"

"The Hydra base," Sam cut in, "it's risky - really risky, we're down by quite a bit - but it may be the only realistic chance we have to get a strong signal out fast. And let's face it," he said, looking at their various current states of disarray, "we won't manage without proper medical supplies and food out here for much longer."

Steve nodded at Sam, then turned to look at Tony who - despite having a huge purple bruise forming over the bridge of his nose and around his eyes - looked at him determinedly.

"Alright," he agreed, "We prepare everything we've got, then we head out at sundown."

"I've been out on worse ops with even worse conditions, Cap, I'll manage with a broken rib."

Cap had decided just he Bucky and Nat would be going out armed, taking Tony with them for the technical stuff, as Bucky put it.

Rhodey and Sam were fairly content this - Rhodey wasn't ready to engage physically with the enemy without his armour at the moment, and Sam trusted Steve on this one. Besides, they had to watch Clint.

"One wrong move and that broken rib becomes a punctured lung, and we're royally fucked if that happens, Clint" Steve said sternly, challenging Clint to protest again. When Clint opened his mouth, Steve raised his hand, "That's an order, Barton. Just because you could go out right now, doesn't mean you should. It's not a necessary risk."

"He'll stay put," Sam spoke up, waltzing over to the table where the team were gathering together what supplies they had salvaged - dividing it into what was useful and what they could sacrifice to Tony to be disembowelled of its technological innards.

"Tony has a broken face, why does he get to go out?" Clint challenged, though given the fact he was now resting on the couch with his feet up, he'd backed down about going out himself.

"He won't go into critical condition under too much strain, unlike you, and he can still move his limbs," Steve shrugged a backpack on over his thick jacket and uniform, securing his shield to his forearm, "and he's kinda important for the whole getting help thing."

Tony grinned devilishly at Steve, who just huffed an amused sigh back.

"Kinda - don't let it inflate your ego."

"So," Bucky huffed, trudging through the snow, "you care about him?"

Steve sighed, having expected this conversation. Since the coming together after the accords, the divide among the team had never felt more clear. It cut deep, and God if it wasn't painful. The way they physically broke off from each other in missions.

Thing only changed one night when Clint, in all his anger at Tony, interrupted a personal moment. Tony had been sat in the dark of the Avengers a Tower communal room. They all lived there again, a grudging decision they made - as if forcing two broken halves of a vase would fuse back together upon contact. It would take more than proximity to fix the mend.

The room hadn't been lived in in a long time, filled with ghosts of memories of old movie nights, homey meals, game night and conversations that spiralled on for hours.

Clint couldn't sleep, being away from home got to him a lot lately. God, he missed them all. He'd wondered in the dark room, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets, reminiscing of more comfortable times.

What he hadn't expected to see, was Tony Stark, leant over a grand piano - they all had assumed was some extravagant decor choice - with his shoulders shaking silently. Clint was about to turn round, until a pang grew in his chest. He and Tony used to be good friends. They shared the same witty sense of humour, used sarcasm as a shield, and used humour oozed from them as they told stories.

Damnit.

He'd wondered over, wordlessly sitting by the other man as his trembling fingers hovered over the Ivory keys

"My- ah," Tony steadied his shaking voice, coughing away the catch in his throat, "my mom, mi mamma - mia bella madre, she taught me to play."

Clint listened carefully. Tony didn't speak about his mother, especially since finding out about her death, the real reason, but she clearly meant the world to him. Tony had gingerly played the piano, and they began to talk, and eventually laugh. They watched movies, Tony spoke about his mom, Clint spoke about his family. One time he mentioned missing being able to come home to family, to hold them when he came home. He lived mostly at the tower for his duty, and he and Laura and agreed that his Avenging life stayed away from their home on the farm - there was to be a regular family, to keep his children safe.

The others gradually joined them in watching movies, and things began to pick up again. It was still... different ... but it was better, getting better, at least. They were fusing the two pieces back together, there was no hiding the mark left behind.

Steve had reached out to Tony, thought he other man was still hurting, and in truth Steve was too. But no matter how much Tony seemed to blow his fuse with the other man, how he took things badly and snapped, they seemed to be settling on even grounds again.

His feelings for Tony had never really gone. He pushed them down when he did what he had to do; but now, bringing things back together, he couldn't keep the lid on much longer. After Tony had saved his skin, fallen in the ice for him, Steve could feel his effort to talk to Tony weren't hopeless. Just maybe, the other man had been deflecting as his own way of keeping a lid on his emotions.

"I do, yeah," Steve looked down at his feet, kicking snow out his way, pushing on. The Hyrda base was two miles away now, Nat leading the way, followed by Tony, the rear brought up by Steve and Bucky. Luckily for Steve, the wind was coming towards them, so their voices wouldn't be carried to Tony's ears.

"He tried to kill us, remember?" Bucky eyed Steve carefully. Steve looked sharply at Bucky, stopping himself from snapping when he noticed the calculating look Bucky was casting his way.

"No, he didn't," Steve admitted to himself, "he was pulling his punches - he, he could've shot you with that missile, instead he just used to to trap you. He showed us mercy, despite-" Steve glanced up at Tony, gazing at the smaller man, striding forwards determinedly.

"I know. I wanted to make sure you did too, punk. He cares about you too."

They eventually reached the base, only visible by a few bunkers inconspicuously poking up through the snow. They were concealed as old war bunkers, but Steve had studied the layout religiously, and recognised which one was a concealed entrance.

Natasha stepped up on the ladder on the side of the bunker, lifting the trap door, motioning Bucky to follow her. They couldn't go in, guns blazing this time. They had to be tactical. Natasha and Bucky had the best stealth training, they'd go in, take out four guards, and take their uniforms.

When Natasha and Buck disappeared through the door, Steve straightened himself, holding his hands out after Tony in case he slipped, who was scaling the ladder. Steve stared despite himself, feeling his Catholic Guilt swing and punch him in the gut when caught himself ogling Tony's ass above him. Not that he stopped, would in their right mind would?

Tony got up, and Steve followed quickly, pretending he'd just been scouting the area. They sat at the top, waiting by the door until Buck would come up and give the go-ahead.

Steve watched as Tony broke of a chunk of ice around the skirting of the bunker, bringing it up to his nose, hissing but then sighing with relief at the cold press. The bruising had darkened considerably, but his eyes still stood out from his face.

Tony had beautiful eyes, so dark you'd almost mistake them for black, but upon looking closely they were a gorgeous combination of chestnut and mahogany, glittering with emotion; framed beautifully by long, thick lashes. After knowing Tony for a while, Steve realised why the man wore sunglasses out in public so much. He had is media façade, but not even that could conceal what his eyes revealed. Tony's eyes exposed his soul, opening him up like a rose.

And those eyes were gazing at his. Steve felt a spark in his belly, the sudden dryness of his mouth - a metallic clang rung from below them, and the two men shot up and aimed their guns at the door, which creaked before swinging open, revealing Bucky's plain expression.

"Care to join me, fellas?"

They split off into pairs, since hydra agents on patrol usually were in groups no larger than three unless they were headed somewhere important, like to secure the perimeter. The base was much scarcer than it had been their previous visit, which sent a wave of satisfaction through them all.

They'd shaken them up good, and their forces were scattered.

Natasha and Tony marched in unison toward the communications room, while Bucky and Steve patrolled the corridors surrounding the room, ready to notify the other pair of any suspicious activity. They couldn't blow their cover before getting the message to S.H.I.E.L.D out.

Tony had emptied his pocket, which contained an improvised devise which would temporarily and discretely lower the security parameters of the system, long enough for them to send an encrypted signal to Director Fury.

Natasha stood guard outside the door, while Tony busied himself with setting up the plan.

"What're you doing, agent?" Tony spun round at the voice, thankful he decided to keep his helmet on, visor down. Natasha entered the room, discretely shutting the door behind her.

"We're under strict instructions to send an urgent message to headquarters." She lied easily, without a trace of any American accent.

"Under whose instructions?" The man challenged. He wore a similar get-up to standard agents, but was without a helmet and appeared to have some kind of merits adorning his jacket. Ah, so a Nazi with brownie points, must be fairly high ranked here, she thought.

"I'm afraid we don't have the jurisdiction to disclose that information, sir." Tony supplied - he made a living for the first half of his life bullshitting to a board of directors and wealthy benefactors - he could pull a lie from his ass when he needed.

"Well, given that I run the operation here, I grant you permission to disclose," he gestured a hand out, as if inviting them to speak. Tony shrugged at Natasha, who had already walked up to the man and snapped neck in one swift movement.

Tony winced as turned back to the monitors, stitching on the device and getting to work on the coding. He'd memorised the digits needed to send Fury a direct signal in code, he'd done it enough times.

Nat dragged the man's body behind a desk, before heading back towards the door, looking through the glass panel for anyone approaching.

An electric chirp sounded from the computer Tony was leant over, fingers tapping away furiously, "I've sent the signal, but the tech here is - is ancient, it's gonna take a few minutes to send."

"How long do you reckon?" Natasha asked, brow furrowed curiously.

"I'd say ten minutes, give or take - but that means this," he waved at the device he made, "is going to stop covering up our tracks in about five, so..." "There's gonna be a gap where they're gonna notice what we're doing." Natasha concluded, sighing and the nod of Tony's head.

"Good news is they won't be able to intercept it unless the physically dismantle this computer, so we'll have to hold them off long enough for it to reach Nick, then get the hell outta here."

Natasha gave a confirming nod and slipped out the door, ready to track down Steve and Bucky to relay the information. They'd need them there to defend the room.

Five minutes passed, and as if on queue, sirens howled throughout the base, lighting turning a pulsating red. Voices declaring unauthorised personnel rung from the speakers I. The building in various languages. Tony straightened himself and tore off the sleeve covering his single remaining gauntlet, finding solace in the familiar whine of the repulsers firing up. Heavy footsteps were approaching, when Steve burst into the room, gun raised.

Natasha and Bucky appeared in the doorway, walking backwards in a crouch, open firing into the corridor.

"How do you suppose we get outta here?" Bucky called over the sound of gunfire, ducking behind the cover of the reinforced doorframe. Steve turned to Tony, who stilled before aiming his gauntlet skywards. Firing, a large hole emerged in the ceiling from the impact of the blast, and cold air whipped into the room.

"The building has ventilation above it to release carbon dioxide, since it's totally underground - those bunkers act as an airlock, which is what makes this place so hard to detect. Our best bet is to get out through the dead space above us, since we're not exactly in the position to just walk back out the way we came."

Natasha reeled backwards, the sound of a bullet ricocheting the side of the door.

"Yeah, I can agree with that."

The minutes passed by painfully slow, the four of them taking up positions where they could aim into the corridor, taking shots at over-confident agents. Eventually, a ping rang from the computer, indicating the signal was sent.

"Thank fuck-" was all Tony said before Steve was marching up to him, hoisting him onto his shoulders.

"-Steve! For God's sake I have a heart condition!" He grumbled, swaying on Steve's shoulders, before sighing and pushing up on Steve's head, coming to a shakey balance stood on the man's broad shoulders. Reaching up, he pulled himself up through the hole he'd created, shimmying into the ventilation tunnel it had revealed.

Nat was next, running at Steve in a practised move, jumping off his shield as he propelled her upwards - without exerting too much force (he wanted her to reach the ceiling, not go through it). She swung herself up, shuffling down after Tony to make room for the other two men.

Bucky drained the last of his cartridge, before shutting the door, sliding the rifle between the handle  to hold off the agents from coming in. He and Steve jumped up, easily pulling their weight into the vent one after the other - their only difficulty was squeezing their shoulders through.

They crawled far enough until coming to a stop. Steve had been directing them, having analysed the buildings layout, guessing which way would get them closest to an exit. They heard voices coming from inside the vents being them - they'd managed to get into the room, then.

Tony pulled out a screwdriver and undid the bolts on the casing of the vent below them quickly, dropping down onto the floor below. The others followed closely behind him, when they heard the click of someone clicking the safety off their gun.

Between them and the ladder escalating to the exit, was an experienced-looking agent. He'd clearly anticipated which exit they were headed too, and decided to take them down himself.

"So what - you decided to come down here, a lone gun-slinger, to save the day or- am I close?" Tony questioned the agent, hands raised tiredly at the barrel of the gun currently pressing against his temple.

The agent had been hiding in the shadows, seizing the opportunity of Tony's turned back from where he dropped out the vent to use him as a bargaining token.

"I have nothing to prove, Mr Stark," the agent snapped bitterly, voice dripping in what sounded like a Scandinavian accent, pressing the gun harder against Tony's head.

"Sure looks like it from where we're standing," Steve grumbled darkly. The agent only grabbed Tony's arm, pulling the man closer to him and pressing the gun at the base of his skull, eyes manic.

"Drop your weapons, now, or I swear to God I'll pull the trigger," when the others gave no response, the agent laughed, "You thing I'm lying? Believe me, it would be an hour to execute this man, I'd do it happily even if it was the last thing I did. Try me."

Steve dropped his gun to the ground, ignoring Bucky's frustrated groan. Despite this, the other man let his weapon fall to the ground with a clunk. Natasha made no sign I moving.

"You too, bitch. Drop it, now!" Spittle flew from the agents mouth, and Natasha loosened her hold on her weapon - and the agent visibly relaxed when he saw it slip out her right hand - dropping down a few inches before her left hand snapped it up again, firing two precise shots between the man's eyes. His body fell into a heap on the floor, foot twitching a few times before permanently stilling.

"You stretched that out on purpose, Romanoff," Tony's voice accused her, though was sorted with the tone of fond amusement wrapped around it.

"Of course I didn't, I'm very professional, Stark." She said innocently, strolling past him and already scaling the ladder.

Bucky stared after her, torn between bewildered, jealous, and impressed. Steve leant in to his friend's, raising his eyebrows knowingly and pursing his lips together to hide his amusement.

"She's uh - she's pretty good I guess."

"You don't remember me, do you?"

The team were all settled on a quinjet in far better shape than their current one, trashed in the middle of some Norwegian wilderness. Bucky considered Natasha carefully as the woman sat next to him, filling with the chamber of her gun.

"You were -" Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to dig pack into his past and turn over the right stone that would give him the answer he knew was there, but couldn't find. He remembers her face, her hair, the way she moved, the way she hunted. He felt... something, when she looked at him, but he hadn't placed his finger on what it was and where it came from.

"I know I knew you, and not just on the side of the road with your - technician, was it?"

"Mechanic, but close enough."

"Right, mechanic." He wet his lips, "I know you're important to me, I just don't know why."

Natasha stayed silent at that, but he was trained just like her to notice the tiniest quirks of a person. She hid them well, but in recent years, she'd been spending time with a very different crowd of people than to the ones she was around growing up. She'd let some things slip, like chewing the inside of her lip, just slightly, but enough that he noticed.

She was unhappy - hurt, even.

"Can you help me?" He tried, earning a cautious look from the woman, "I want to remember, I want to know why I feel... this, when I see you." He finished quietly, having revealed a close intimacy about himself.

He set his jaw hard when Natasha nodded, a little more warmly than she was a few moments ago. She patted his knee, letting her hand linger for a moment, before walking up to the cockpit.

Bucky let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

On the other side of the jet, a medic was evaluating Sam's arm, raising it to see when and where it hurt, nodding sympathetically when the man grit his teeth. Rhodey was laughing with Clint, who was currently shirtless with a large bandage wrapped around his torso, applying light pressure to the break. Steve was smiling at the two men, laughing alongside them every so often, while Tony was sat at Rhodey's feet, receiving a gentle head massage that made his eyes roll shut.

When he opened them, he caught Steve directing an open and fond gaze his way, which transformed to mild panic when he realised Tony saw him. Tony felt a leap in his chest, and just grinned genuinely at Steve - not one of his practised media-smiles plastered over his face, but a soft and slightly crooked smile, easily forming on his face.

Steve felt his heart flutter with hope for the first time since the accords.

After the debrief, the others enthusiastically agreed to head to Clint's farm for a few days. Clint was beaming, barely able to stand in one spot when they touched down, and he ran out, scooping Nathaniel into his arms. Laura smiled and kissed her husband, while Natasha crouched down in front of Clint's daughter, who began talking to her excitedly.

"Laura," came Steve's warm and grateful voice, and she turned at him smiling gently, "thank you for this, it's so good to see you under better circumstances." She waved him off fondly, and patted his arm softly. "Steve, you got my husband home in one piece, that's better than what most people can manage - it's my pleasure."

Looking over Steve's shoulder, Laura noticed Tony approaching cautiously. She grinned at him brightly, which seemed to ease his tension.

"Tony! Thank you last time, for the tractor, I never got the chance to thank you properly-"

"Oh no-no it was no problem, I like doing that kinda stuff, really,"

Clint openly smiled at Tony, approaching him and pulling an arm round his shoulders. "He ain't lying, babe, he's kinda weird like that. Likes pulling things apart and sticking them back together - it's his thing, just go with it," he whispered sarcastically, earning a snort from Tony.

Inside, everyone had settled after eating a warm meal ("Thank god for real food, and not that wallpaper-paste Steve calls porridge," "Hey come on! It wasn't that bad, Sam."), and were comfortably chatting in various places in the living room.

Rhodey was watching cartoons with Clint's kids, joined by Natasha who has sat cross-legged in the carpet, braiding Bucky's hair. Laura and Clint were squished together on a love-seat, talking in hushed voices, sharing private smiles, and Sam was engaged in the cartoons more than the kids, unsurprisingly, every-so-often asking if anyone wanted a cup of tea or juice. He was good like that.

Steve was leant in the kitchen against the counter, watching his team through the doorway. Tony joined him, covered in motor oil after being under Laura's car, which had been acting up lately.

"You look better, despite all that," he motioned at the various stains on Tony from the oil, who just laughed softly in return.

"Yeah, painkillers will do that," he grinned.

They sat in a comfortable silence before Tony backed himself on top of the counter, swinging his legs as he did so. Watching amusedly, Steve turned to look at him.

"I've missed this, being like- like a family again," Steve admitted.

Tony quirked his lips and sighed dramatically, "Oh America's golden boy, we didn't stop being a family. Families argue and threaten to kill each other, it's all very normal."

Steve eyed the brunette dubiously, "That's not how a functional family operates, Tony."

"We're hardly functional." Tony deadpanned, before nervously chewing his lip and speaking up again.

"A functional person can just, you know, ask a person out on a date instead of kinda-" he pulled an awkward face, flailing his hands around, "-pining from afar and being kinda a jerk to the other person when they're just trying to talk to you."

"Bucky tell you that?" Steve smiled, trying very hard not to let a ridiculously goofy smile take over his face, feeling warmth flushing his cheeks and stomach. He settled the palms of his hand on the counter either side of Tony, leaning in closer.

"No - Rhodey, he's very wise. An old-soul and all that." Tony mused, gaze flittering over Steve's face, his chest, his arms.

Steve hummed in response, losing his own fight at keeping an embarrassing smile off his face. It was worth it though, when Tony let a similar one cross his features, rolling his eyes, and cupping Steve's face in his hands, cradling his head tenderly.

Steve leaned in the last few inches, pressing his smile against Tony's. They kissed slowly, intimately, and so gently, as if scared the other person would suddenly realise what was happening and jerk away.

After a few moments, it became clear neither of them had any intention to back away, and Steve pulled on Tony's hips, sliding him towards the edge of the counter and flush against his body. A few blissful minutes passed of deep, passionate kissing, when the sound of little footsteps tottered into the kitchen, before sharply turning to yell into the living room.

"Daddy you said we couldn't sit on'the counter!"

There was a pause before Clint's confused voice called back, "You can't! It's not hygienic like I told you!"

"How come they gets to do it and're been’ all gross n’ kissing as well?"

Tony and Steve just laughed as a collective shout of disbelief sounded from the kitchen, save from Bucky and Rhodey, who just hollered suggestively, whisking and howling from their positions I front of the TV.

#avengers fanfiction #avengers fic #stevetony #buckynat #hold on back fic

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Grimoire of Zero 1 | The Royal Tutor 2 | SukaSuka 1 | Tsukigakirei 2 | Kado 2 | Twin Angel Break 2 | Boku no Hero Academia 16

Grimoire of Zero 1

I mistook this as Re:Zero at one point (because of the Zero Kara Hajimeru… start of the title). However, despite my having never seen Re:Zero, I’m always open for a good fantasy title.

At least this show is funny, that’s for sure.

Eh, this plot seems like Bungou’s a tad – if you think about why Atsushi was hunted down and such – but then who’s going to be Zero in a Bungou Stray Dogs x Grimoire of Zero AU?

This seems a little cliché in how it handles its humour, but I have a feeling it’ll go above and beyond.

What struck me was that they chose the name Plasta as the capital’s name. A capital city called “Plaster”, pretty much, LOL.

The ED reminds me of Flip Flappers and the book motif reminds me of Deltora Quest, so it’s quite the nostalgic feeling. It’s a keeper, although if it becomes an endless bore of a quest then it may hold less potential than I think it does.

The Royal Tutor 2

It seems Bruno is one prince everyone with a strict study regimen’ll relate to. (Or at least, those who’ve had a strict study regimen at least once in their life.) Even if this is an exercise in drawing out humour to the fullest, it’s relatable and that’s part of what gives this show its personality.

I haven’t seen anyone this enthusiastic to have a master since Yotaro (SGRS)! LOL.

Heine used watakushi. He’s very polite.

Yeahhhhhhh…this, as you may know from how I treated Love Tyrant and Armed Girls, is not going to go down well. Just when the show had gained my favour, too…

I think the girls might’ve referred to Heine as Heinecchi. Update: My mistake, it was Heine-chan.

Behoove? Welp, I learnt a new English word from the subs. It’s not every day that happens, although I tend to pick up cultural things a lot from subs (hence these notes).

Creepy CGI door is not to be taken lightly too. The camera angle was a bit weird there, to boot.

Eeeeeeee! Kai is the one I want to know about the most! (Not just ‘cos he’s handsome, mind you. It’s because he doesn’t talk.)

Shadow? A name for a white dog? Doesn’t make much sense, but it makes me laugh, so okay, I’ll take it. *beams*

Just antisocial, eh? All the more reason to like ‘im.

SukaSuka 1

There aren’t too many promising debuts this season (I only really have my eyes on BnHA, Kado and The Royal Tutor at the moment) because “shows potential” is very different to “I want to keep watching!” for me, but maybe SukaSuka will do the trick.

Why does every fantasy world these days involve animal people? Who knows?

Intereting to note there was Scarborough Fair in English (yes, I had the volume on this time). As a side note, the song was sung by a Tamaru Yamada. (Around when the juggling Pac-Man appears, there’s credits for it.)

I would’ve asked where she was going if she said she had to go, mate. Ask her!

Ny…troll girl is pretty typical for this kind of anime, but Willem seems like he could be a spanner in the works.

Butt shot no. 1.

That oddly placed camera angle (the one where you see into the room from the window) was weird. Seriously though, how does Willem know Nyllathgo (or whatever troll girl’s name is)? Update: her name is Nygglatho. It was close, but not quite it…

Reptrace appears to be a made up cuisine.

I can only see the kids as shippers in the making, but I guess that’s YoI’s fault…?

I remember from pre-show material her katakana name is Kutori, so I’m gonna go with that spelling.

Lemme guess: it’s because the weapons are the kids?(!)

Well that was new: I can normally guess a new point for a show that plays it safe like this, but Kutori is a weapon too? That I didn’t guess. That automatically means I keep it on, at least for another week.

Tsukigakirei 2

Tsukigakirei is sitting somewhere pretty high on the list of “shows to go on hold this season”, so it’ll have to perform well to not have to get that treatment. Considering I can be fairly strict with my 5 show quota, I need to put 2 shows on hold (since out of 8 shows, the third is Kenka Bancho Otome, which automatically goes out of the running), 1 if I use a space I just freed up.

Was the live action OP really necessary? Considering this is anime, it is a bit odd. (Then again, didn’t I raise that gripe with Kado too?)

I don’t normally think about staff much unless they’re familiar names, but Seiji Kishi is a name that’s come up before – with Rampo Kitan.

It just so happens the girly boy is the one with the horns on his headband…for some reason, I find it suits him, since he’s the devil’s advocate to Kotaro. Also, why isn’t Kotaro wearing his headband?

Hey, this feeling. I’ve never really participated in these sport days (if I was forced to do stuff, I’d shotgun shotput since no one really took it), but I know the feelings around them real well. Once again, Tsukigakirei excels in recreating a teenage experience…

I has a small sneaking suspicion Akane’s toy would have gotten lost, and it seems like that’s coming true.

I laughed a really derpy laugh at devil’s advocate boy liking the teacher. Even though I had a small squick moment that it may have been romantic, suki is quite the broad term compared to how Akane and Kotaro’s romance is laid out so…it can’t be said for sure that the boy’s “like” is romantic, too.

That pink thing is a potato mascot?! I’m not angry, just hella surprised – that pink thing is so not a potato.

I gave a little “aw!” at when Kotaro told Akane she was fine the way she was. Now there’s a sentiment I can get behind.

Why does he box the light string? I don’t get it…but at least it makes him more dynamic than, say, Haruki (Sagrada Reset).

Haneteru-kun? So that’s how you say it in Japanese?

The style of the ED is unique, that’s for sure.

I think Tsukigakirei just proved itself. Sure, it’s not a complete “turn genres on its head” sort of thing, but it’s competent at what it does, and that’s all it needs right now. That’s all it’ll ever need. Then again, that does beggar the question: what goes on hold instead? There’s only one way to find out…

Kado 2

I was surprised to find out Shunina was voiced by none other than Akoya (Takuma Terashima)!

The OP is a rather odd choice (in regards to the music), but it does at least set the atmosphere well.

WPAN? I know of LANs and WANs, so WLAN makes sense (kind of), but not that…Okay, I learnt something.

“…we’re touching the ground…”

When the plane looks better than the characters…you know you’re doing CG wrong.

I want the OST of this, that song when Shindo touches the bottom of the cube really creates the feeling of a “foreign space”.

Erm, while Shindo and Shunina are negotiating, Shunina seems to have forgotten he’s buck naked…? Not that I mind, and it completely makes sense for an alien like him, but…yeah. He’s naked.

Base 10 = decimal, base 16 = hexadecimal, base 2 = binary. Shunina seems to be expressing the time in binary, but time is in base 60 (because 60 seconds = 1 minute and so on, so forth).

That bread doesn’t look too appetising, LOL.

I know Kado is much prettier flat, but when it’s just slow pans…you can tell they skimped on the budget. CGI is costly, sure, but…make sure you have proper budget before you make an anime, people, please. (On the other hand, I like 2D!Shunina.)

Is there any significance as to what order people appear in the ED?

Kado’s been my top contender ever since episode 0. While it does have its visual flaws, it’s an intelligent anime that takes its time to explain things and build suspense.

Twin Angel Break 2

I ended up keeping this on because I have no access to Twin Angel: Twinkle Paradise…

I never knew Sumire was such a sucker for her brother…I’ve never seen such a trope in magical girl shows before, and normally when you see it in anime, it’s a dude lusting after his younger sister, not the other way around. Just another sign this is aimed at pachinko-playing guys…

Gah! Fanservice shots! In my magical girl anime! *points* Another sign this is for dudes. By the way, ari can mean ant.

People don’t move like conveyer belts when solving maths problems.

Welp, such is the mark of a society that wants extroverts…

Meguru appears to have a red bean bun, although I’m not sure of its name aside from “red bean bun”.

Wait, where’s the ball?!

I always thought “Pochi” was a common name for a dog in Japan, kinda like the Western world’s “Spot”. Or “Hachi”, if you want your dog to be like Hachiko.

An event about animals at Tokyo Big Sight? Well, I’ll be. Wonders never cease in this show.

During the pan, the screen seems to jolt a bit. It’s kinda awkward for a show that is otherwise good visually.

Who has a porcupine as a pet? Sometimes I can’t tell if this show’s for little girls or older men…Well, Google says it’s possible to have a porcupine as a pet, but still I bet a pachislot-playing man wouldn’t know you can have a pet porcupine.

I was most displeased when I realised Sumire has a Gainax moment in her transformation sequence. Yet another fanservice spot to add to the growing list of annoyances in this show…

Geddit? It’s Me-ari?

It’s the ol’ duplication trick. Saw it in Smile Precure, so I guess I’m kinda numb to it already.

I was not expecting that for the ED. I really didn’t.

Well, I’ve had enough gripes about this show. It’s going on hold so I can figure out my feelings about it. That being said, there’s a lot of “middle ground” anime this time - if SukaSuka or Grimoire of Zero don’t get the boot from their next ep, I’ll have to deal with 6 simulcasting anime and leave the space open. (Luckily, there have been so many full seasons that I have a little too much bingewatching material available, regardless of whether I have the space open or not.)

Boku no Hero Academia 16

Not sure if chicken race means this or actual chicken racing, since Google tells me actual chicken racing exists.

I’ve wanted to know more about Tokoyami for a while, so here’s hoping for character development!

A-ha! Exploiting landmines’ propulsion – not many would think of that, but Midoriya certainly would.

All Might, Thirteen and Present Mic ganging up like that looks ridiculous, but it’s hilarious and helps to break up the suspense. *thumbs up*

*laughs* Oh man, this is what makes this show so good. It manages to strike hard and well with both its humour, strategy and action – it never misses one beat. That’s the spirit, Boku no Hero Academia! Keep going just like this!

#simulcast commentary #boku no hero academia #Grimoire of Zero #sukasuka #twin angel break #Seikai Suru Kado #the royal tutor #Chesarka watches Boku no Hero Academia #tsuki ga kirei #Chesarka watches Oushitsu Kyoushi Haine #Chesarka watches Kado #Chesarka watches Grimoire of Zero #Chesarka watches Tsukigakirei