#gonna gif the part where he talks about nicke too. obviously. <3< /div>
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larsnicklas · 1 year ago
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You know, point-wise and stuff, I mean I don't think I've had that many points in a full season than I had in my first four games here. But it's fun to look back to, and the guys helped me come into the team real good. — RASMUS SANDIN FOR CAPS RED LINE
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alwaysshallow · 1 year ago
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― blood on my shirt, rose in my hand
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SUMMARY: Simon Riley knows you have bad experiences with dating, but he also knows you don't really need no one but him. He's gonna provide you anything. So you can imagine how he could change, when for the first time, you think you've found the one man who's right for you. To your surprise, weird events happen during the time you date Nick. Thankfully, Simon's there to help you. (11,4k)
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A/N: this is SUCH a long piece, so some of it is here, but the full version is on AO3. i hope you're gonna forgive me for this one </3
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"It's not like I'm ugly, right? I thought about it. If I'm ugly, so that's why it doesn't work out." you sip your favorite wine, looking right at your best friend, who has been listening for the past hour your ramblings about dating.
"You're fuckin' stupid, but not ugly, pet."
He's the best friend in the world – you can say this, meaning it with your whole heart. In fact, he's the best friend everyone probably wished to have, at least in your mind. Not only here for you, but loyal, you can tell him basically anything. He wouldn't say a thing, even if someone was nagging, and he was mostly a good adviser; all the qualities you looked for in a best friend, right?
And he was brutally honest, like right now, but you don't mind it. Simon Riley had this thing, and even if sometimes you were almost offended at his bluntness (like this one time, when he told you you're a crying mess and you act… worse than a toddler), you mostly appreciated it. Your other friends couldn't compare to his honesty, this man was not the one to lick your ass.
Or, so you thought.
"Excuse me?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing, while shaking your head. "You should, I don't know, tell me I'm amazing and they don't deserve me. Or so." you joke; it causes him to roll his eyes.
"That's what I told you. Different words, but the same thingy."
"Right."
It sometimes sucks for you that Simon isn't a girl. He has this unbelieveably annoying guy thing, where he just can't be delusional with you, and he can't just mourn over some hot guy. His way of thinking is… on the other level, he totally skips the mourn part, the part that is pathetic; he's just saying things like "move on" and "there's a lot of them anyway". Again, you love it, but you really wish you could cry about guy being so pretty that it hurts, without him rolling his eyes.
Yet, when you're more in mad mood than mourning one, his attiude is just perfect. He's the one to encourage you to scream, he even brought you a few times to rage room when you needed to smash a few things, not to mention the attiude he was setting you in. Powerful, not giving a shit about a "piece of a man that doesn't deserve you".
Simon sighs. "You're worryin' too much. Really that desperate?"
You huff, as you sink more into the plushy couch in your apartment. "I'm not desperate. It's just…" you take a few seconds to think "being love starved."
"Sex starved, you mean."
"Love starved." you send him a look.
"Mhm. You fancy plushies, hugs, and all shite like this?"
"You're so fucking British, it hurts" you laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I want something like this. Someone to hold me, someone that cares about me and I know it. Sex comes in package, of course, but it's just… ugh, I want a man" you groaned.
You feel as pathetic as ever, when Simon doesn't respond – because how exactly should he? He wasn't vocal about things like this, he usually just nod his head, and there it was, another topic. A miracle it was that he was already listening to your date rambling, not cutting it off because he was uncomfortable or something.
Dreams about your love life… more girly conversation.
Mostly – you know guys who loved talking about it, obviously, and you adore it pretty much, especially when you can know their perspective on some things, but… Riley wasn't really one of them. He had "simple hookups" as he said one day, when you asked him about doing double-dates. It wasn't even an option, he just liked to ocassionally fuck and that's all.
So you stopped trying a few months ago for a double-date. Instead, you focused more on finding a man that would meet your expectations at least in the middle, and that was exhausting, to be honest. Tinder dates were just a disaster after disaster – if it wasn't some catfish, a guy that wanted to marry you and have kids after two weeks of writing, it was most definitely a guy with a desire to bang you quickly.
Romance was dead these days, you noticed. That wouldn't keep you away from trying to find someone, though. Patience was a key in things like these.
"Maybe you will set me up with one your friends? It wouldn't suck. You know them." you think out loud.
"Definitely too much wine f'you." Simon takes your glass, and pours all of the liquid to his mouth, swallowing it like it was some kind of juice, not alcohol. "You don't want a guy from military in your life. Trust me."
There's some sternness to his tone, at which you raise your eyebrow. It was just a funny comment from your side, nothing else – you know by the heart that this man doesn't like the idea of connecting his two worlds. "I know, Simon. Just joking, right?"
You place a hand on his. It's a comedic, yet, heartwarming view, when you see the size difference.
"And, you're pretty cool for a military guy."
He huffs. It seems like pretty cool offends him, but he doesn't say it out loud, so it can be only your imagination working. "You met me before I enlisted. 's different."
"How different?"
"You knew me before military."
He doesn't give you another answer that night, nor the continuation of this one – he brushes you off, like you are some kind of bug that is disturbing him, and brings up another topic, about his deployment. He asks if you can watch his apartment when he's gone, take care of it; it's stupid, Simon knows that you will always agree, but it's the need of asking you anyway.
And, he likes coming home, where he can smell your perfume, where he can see that you made some changes. You tend to do that a lot, mostly buying stuff to his apartment. "It looks worse than room in the hospital" you always say, when he cocks his eyebrow with amusement. He doesn't say that, but he finds it really adorable that you care so much, to make his space… cozier, even if he's not really attached to it. Mostly, it's for your comfort when you come to visit him, and that happens a lot; not like he minds it. Anyone else would be banned from his apartment, but you? Oh God, you wouldn't be, not in the milion years.
You could probably be the worst ever to him; call him names, punch, anything, and he would still be your Simon. It's what he was used to, to being by your side, no matter what time, no matter if you were in the good mood or not; your presence was everything to him.
Not like he'd ever confess that, but it is what you know, silently.
Yet, you are so good to him. Always sending him letters or texting him when he is on deployment. A couple of times, you sent him little things too, if he forgot something, photos included too, but new ones; mostly you captured views, but you were here once or twice. His happiness may not be that visible to outsiders, but his heart is full every time.
"My girl", he'd tell boys when they saw a polaroid of you, swiftly tucking it into his vest because no one was allowed to see it more than three seconds.
Often, Gaz joked if you are actually his girl even if you're not dating, but it sounded so bizzare to Ghost. How would you not be his? Thirteen years of friendship counted as something beyond being only his best friend, no? At least in his mind it was like this. He was used to you dating briefly other guys, but it lasted maybe a few months top. Nothing serious, probably his hookups were more meaningful than your relationships.
So you can easily imagine his confusion, when your mutual friends tell him big news about your new object of interest; someone that he doesn't even know yet, but he's not really his fan on the beggining.
It was just a month of being away.
His eyes are on you now; you are embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. You don't even speak, you just wave your hand in dismissive manner, trying to change the topic because you don't really want to talk about it. Not in the presence of your best friend, at least.
It works for everyone but Simon, and you know it by the way he looks at you, processing what he just heard. Changing a topic, sudden talkativeness from your side is like buying time in that, time precious to think what to say to your best friend later on.
Because you know for the fact that he'll ask. He always does, and now he has a reason.
You have your reasons why you haven't told him. "It's nothing serious. That's why I didn't tell you." your voice is a little more silent than usual, but he can hear it anyway. You two are taking a walk to your apartment with no one around; and it's awkward one.
Simon seems like he doesn't want to say anything about your poor choice of men. It worries you; he always wanted somehow to make fun of you or make comment. Now, it's just a nod, like he gets it, but you know it's not it. He doesn't get it.
But you don't know what it is.
"C'mon!" you nudge him, and when it doesn't seem to affect him, you stand right in front of him. A little wobbly because of alcohol, your vision isn't so great too, but it makes him stop in his tracks. "Say something."
"Somethin'" he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "What? Told me-"
"-I know what I told you!" you cup his face in your hands. Your head is a bit hazy, but the intensions are clear; making him talk and soft. It always works, so you have a lot of hope. "He's a good guy, but I want to meet him a bit closer to be… certain about him, you know? You've heard me whining about boys a bit too much."
"You can tell me everything." he muses, and you can't help but smile at that. Of course – of course you can tell him everything. You never doubted it for a second, and you think of yourself as stupid, doubting that he wouldn't want to hear about it. "Ill be the judge of that, though. Good guy thing."
"I can't be trusted?" you tease, and when he lets out a low chuckle, you grin even more. It's like a reward after him being his grumpy self.
"No." he shakes his head. "You don't know what is good for you. But that's why I'm here."
Under the influence of alcohol, you didn't pay too much of attention to his words; probably you wouldn't pay attention to it even if he'd say this when you are sober. Simon as your protector – it's so natural, you don't even need to think about it as something weird. It's just the way things are for thirteen years, everyone knows this.
Your friends, who were a bit reluctant on the beggining, but two parties later, when he joined the competition of drinking on time and wasn't drunk at all, he won over their hearts.
It was tougher with your parents, when you were in highschool. A little distanced at first, they constantly asked where were his parents (which, you told them, was rude asking, especially to his face), telling you how much of a bad news he could be for you. Suggestion of him ruining your future was the worst, you never thought of him this way; that discussion caused you to give them the silent treatment for a few days.
Apparently after that, suggesting that Simon is around you too much, clinging to your side and giving you "weird glances", they stopped the narrative, admitting that the boy might be damaged, but not broken. You still felt like they're judging their every move, but seeing that he had pretty good life plan, seeing that he thought about military and went here actually? Hell, they completely stopped being suspicious in any means.
Riley just had this thing of charming people, even if they didn't like him in the beggining. He had everything under his finger, trying to keep things under control – it was like that… pretty much since the beggining of his life. You met him when he was an adult, but he always liked to keep things under control; people, things that he cared about. What belonged to him was sacred, untouchable for anyone else.
The possessiveness started in his early childhood with toys, when he absolutely despised everyone who just wanted to touch his things, to lay their dirty, filthy fingers here. In early classes, it was considered just rude.
When he was older though, he started fighting for various things. Knowing he has the advantage, he used his legs, fists, when he had to, and no one was looking, besides the actual victim. He wasn't stupid; he knew how troublesome the public can be, he also knew the power of manipulation a bit too well to get caught so easily. Wasn't the plan, getting caught; it once happened, but because he wanted to; he even broke his own nose, making it like the other guy did it, just to get what he needed. The reputation of kid who was broken in the childhood, so he's just not opening on others was… suitable, for him. No one could suspect anything, especially when the kid just happened to be "attacked" by one of the popular ones, right?
The idea of power was something that Simon truly desired from the beggining; maybe it has something to do with the lack of his parents in his life, being transferred from one foster family to another. Maybe it's just him being a little fucked up – who knows.
What mattered, was the fact he had you. You, so sweet, so considerate to be by his side, to be protected by him, to be the person who "opened" because of her. Little did you know, he opened just because he wanted to be closer to you, not those fuckers you hang out with.
If you knew his past, you would have another reasons in mind, why he showed up to meet your potential new boyfriend. Jealousy, posessiveness, power complex, him being a control freak who can't give you to anyone he personally doesn't trust – if ever, considering you were his precious best friend. He isn't willing to share.
You aren't really aware of him being this crazy. You think of his flaws, and you see someone that has been damaged, someone that you can and will help, if he just asks for it – or if you'll see he needs it. So, naturally, you help, and grin the widest you can, when you see him in the door. He shows completely unexpected. It doesn't take you long to wrap your hands around his neck, tight, as you hug him.
Happy as always because you can see your friend, happy as ever because moments like these means a lot to you. When he's deployed, you can't even see him, so you're taking all in when he's right in front of you.
"Hope 'm not interruptin'." he murmurs into your hair, as his head is practically buried in them; he has to bend down a little to be at your level, but it's something he enjoys. The power.
"Never." you say immediately, not even hesitating in your statement. "Actually, you found a pretty good moment."
"That I did, eh?" his eyebrow arches, as he straightens up.
"As always. Nick's here, you have to meet him."
|READ THE REST ON AO3|
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essiefreds · 6 years ago
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… so… this may or may not be a thing? We’re gonna see how people respond to it, I guess, and then maybe it’ll continue as a series? 
I don’t expect it to go well, because uh, I don’t have any idea how to write Steve Rogers as a character, and I feel as though there are some topics that could arise in this series that I might not know how to handle, so… 
(It’s a thing): 
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18,  Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22
Word Count: 2147
Tagged (if you’d like to be added to this list, btw, just send me a message and let me know!): @hotemotionalmess
“We need you to talk to him.“ 
You blinked at Nick Fury. Not only had you never been addressed directly by the head of SHIELD, you had never been in the same room as him. Now, here he was, standing in front of you, his arms hanging by his side, and a sincere expression on his face. 
"Uh… wait,” you said, deciding that it made sense to clear up this request he was bestowing on you before simply agreeing. After all, just because he was Director Fury didn’t mean that you were going to do everything he said. 
Especially something like this. 
“So… you want me to… befriend the man who has been trapped in ice for seventy years, in the hopes that… what? He’ll… decide to join society?" 
Fury lifted his shoulders. "Basically.”
“And why me?” you queried, frowning. 
“You have a way,” Fury said, as though that answered your question in the slightest. “Anyway, the sooner you can figure it out, the better, because we need him to, uh, not consider anything other than rejoining society.”
You did not have to ask him to elaborate on what he meant by that. Your experience with war veterans gave you a pretty solid understanding on the euphemisms of suicide. 
“All right,” you said, carefully, “but… if I don’t manage to get him to like me, then what?" 
"Well, we’re not incredibly worried about him,” the Director of SHIELD responded, “but we know that he must feel very lonely, and rather helpless. We’re not positive that he’ll accept you as a friend, but we also don’t think he’ll flat-out deny someone wanting to help him integrate back into society.” He offered you an expression that might have been reassuring, had he been anyone other than Nick Fury. “You’ll do fine.”
Again, he hadn’t answered your question, but hey, what were you supposed to do about it? He was your boss, after all. 
You’d joined SHIELD after an invitation had reached you in your tiny apartment in New York, which you rented through the funding you received from your job at the hospital as a receptionist. Although no one had ever told you how they’d figured out who you were, and what you did, you thought that you’d adjusted well to your position in SHIELD. Handling panicking people was something you were good at, and, more often than not, there was a panicking person, or group of people, for you to deal with on a regular basis. 
Aside from that, however, you were also extremely good at helping people who’d been through hell and had somehow gotten out of it, only to continue to be faced with it in their daily lives through nightmares and panic attacks. It was a skill you’d developed through extreme sensitivity that your mother often called psychic, and through your work with war veterans that passed through the hospital. You’d also created a group for them, at the nearby retirement community, where many were spending the remainder of their lives. 
It was because of this, you supposed, that Nick Fury had approached you to help with Steve Rogers, who’d recently been unearthed like a fossil or something. Although you’d never been one to read comic books, you knew who he was, who he had been, at any rate. 
You did not ask, but you wondered if Director Fury hoped to bring back who Steve Rogers had been, although for what purpose, you did not know. A back-up plan, in case aliens tried to take over the Earth, or something. 
Even with your experience, however, you did not have any idea how to handle a ninety-year-old man who looked and had the physicality of a twenty-year-old, especially one who had at one moment been in the 1940’s, and in the next had been thrown into the 21st century. 
It was going to be something new. 
“He’s been living in a facility that we’ve created to model the 1940’s,” Fury told you as he led you down one of the many hallways of one of the buildings that SHIELD owned. “We meant for it to help him adjust to what’s happened, but I don’t know how well it’s worked." 
"Right,” you said. Your mind was reeling. You’d put yourself into the shoes of many victims of trauma, but never before had you had to help someone who had been asleep for seventy years adjust to the new life that they were suddenly faced with. So much had changed since the ‘40’s, so many things, in fact, that you doubted you’d be able to think of them all, in order to help him adjust. 
Again, you weren’t positive that this was going to go well. 
It was too late, however, to back out. Fury would not have come to you, specifically, if he did not think you had at least some chance of making this work.
You supposed that out of many of your coworkers, you did have the best chance. 
Still. 
Director Fury paused outside a door down a bland hallway, and nodded to it. “We’ve had people check on him every hour or so since he defrosted, but he hasn’t been the most responsive to them,” he said. “So, first thing’s first -”
“Get him to respond to me,” you concluded. Fury dipped his head. You exhaled, and faced the door. “Sure. I can do this.”
“Good attitude,” Fury praised, and then he patted you on the shoulder. “And good luck.”
You nodded, and listened as he walked away. He did not leave the hallway entirely, you noticed. 
After taking a moment to center yourself, to calm your thoughts, you lifted your fist, and knocked politely on the door. 
You were incredibly surprised when, after a minute, it opened from the other side. 
Holy shit this man’s arms are the size of tree trunks.
So, needless to say, your first impression of Captain Steve Rogers was probably not the most profound. 
Luckily, you were good at pulling yourself together, and you quickly held out your hand towards the gorgeous figure that had opened the door. 
“Hello, Captain Rogers,” you said, offering a smile. “My name is Y/N.”
The moment you knew that helping Steve Rogers would be a wonderful experience was when he shook your hand, and said, “Pleasure to meet you, ma'am.”
You were almost positive you stood there, holding his hand and blinking at him like an idiot for at least two minutes, but he did not seem bothered. In fact, if anything, he seemed amused, especially when you finally realized that it was time to let go of his hand, and quickly dropped your own to your side. 
“I just… I’d heard that you were… well, here, and I wanted to know how you’re doing,” you said, hoping that you didn’t sound too much like you were stammering. “I mean, I don’t have any clue what it must be like for you, obviously, but I’d like to understand, so that I can help you in anyway I can.”
Captain Rogers’s amused expression faded, and he tilted his head, moving slightly so that he blocked the entrance way to his living space. “You don’t need to lie to me, ma'am,” he said, and you furrowed your brows, slightly. “I know that I’ve been causing troubles for the nice people of SHIELD, and that they want me to get a move on with reentering the world. It doesn’t need to be sugar coated for me.”
Okay. So, he understands that he needs to reinsert himself. That’s a good start.
“That’s true,” you said, calmly smiling once more, “but, like I said, I’m here to help you with that. I’m not just another person who’s been sent to check on you, make sure you’re trying. I’m here to help you try.” You paused, and then tilted your head, mimicking him. “Could I come in?" 
When he did not reply, immediately, you gestured down the hall. "Or you could come out, instead. We could go get something to eat?" 
"No,” he said, almost immediately, and you lifted an eyebrow. “Here’s fine. Come in, please.” He stepped out of the way of the door, and you sidled past him into the living space on the other side, already knowing that you had plenty of work to do. 
The living space was the same size of a small apartment. In fact, it was bigger than the apartment that you’d been living in, actually. There was a bedroom, with a bathroom attached, and a small kitchen that was in the same space a a living room of sorts. Looking at the furniture, including the TV and kitchen appliances, you saw that SHIELD had done everything it could to give Captain Rogers a 1940’s feel. 
The TV was a boxy, clunky thing. Next to the ragged looking couch was a square side table, on which sat a boxy radio. The lamp in the corner of the room had a very ugly shade on it. The carpet was atrocious, as was the tile in the kitchen. The appliances themselves were green. 
“They wanted it to feel like I was at home,” Captain Rogers said from behind you, seeing that you’d paused to take everything in. “It was nice of them." 
"Yeah, definitely,” you agreed, turning to watch him as he entered the kitchen, and opened the outdated fridge. You were honestly surprised that these things worked. He looked at you. 
“Would you like some water? It’s all I have." 
"Sure,” you said. “Thank you.”
You moved to sit down on the couch, and winced as a stray spring immediately dug up into your ass cheek. They couldn’t have given him at least a slightly comfortable couch? The radio was on, although it was only buzzing, softly; no music came from its single speaker. 
When Captain Rogers joined you, holding a glass of water, you nodded towards the radio, taking the glass from him. “No music?" 
He managed a small smile, one that looked almost sheepish. "I don’t really like the music that you have here,” he explained. 
“Oh,” you said. Obviously. “But, you like background noise?" 
"Sorry.” He immediately moved to turn the radio off, with the same ease you’d use to turn off a cell phone. “I just - it’s something that’s at least sort of similar to how the radio was. Static.”
You took a sip of your water, wondering how hard it would be to find a record player and some vinyls with ‘40’s music on them. After a period of time, you realized that Captain Rogers had not joined you on the couch, and you looked up at him. 
“Are you… not sitting down for a reason?" 
He let out a chuckle that sounded a bit forced. "It’s a small sofa,” he said, gesturing to it. 
Confused, but deciding to let him do what was most comfortable, you set the glass of water down on the table that the radio sat on, and looked at him. “So,” you began, “talk to me, Captain." 
"About what, ma'am?" 
"About you,” you said, gesturing. You smiled. “And I don’t mean Captain America. I mean you. Who is Steven Rogers? What was his life like?" 
For a moment, he was silent, and you wondered, briefly, if he didn’t quite understand why you wanted to know about him. 
Before you could say anything else, however, he spoke: "Was." 
You frowned, a little. "Was?" 
"You said, "What was his life like?”,“ he explained, his eyes trained on the floor. "Everyone else always talks in the present tense." 
You forced your shoulders to relax. This wasn’t going the way you’d hoped it would, so far, but you decided to just… stick with it. "Well, there’s really no sense in living in the past, is there?” you asked him. “I mean, you’re here now, and although there’s plenty of things from your old life that you can keep with you, and you can even be the same Steve Rogers that you were… there’s also things that you’re going to have to accept, and the fact that you’re in the 21st century is one of them." 
His gaze lifted, and met yours. God, his eyes were blue. "Easier said than done, don’t you think?" 
"Most things are,” you replied, easily. “And besides, you don’t have to do it alone, now.” You grinned at him. “I’m here to help.”
A moment of silence passed. For a scarily long second, you thought that maybe he was going to tell you to leave. 
Instead, he smiled back. “It is always easier doing something with a little help,” he admitted. “That’s something I’ve come to learn, anyway.”
You relaxed for real, this time. “Good,” you said. “Glad we can agree on that, at least.” You crossed your legs at the knee. “So, Captain -” you started, again. “What was your life like?”
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koganphrancis · 6 years ago
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Camless Episode 4
(gif credit: winifred-burkle)
It’s a landmark episode and not a lot happens, as always.  If they didn’t have the fact it was the 100th episode to talk about, they’d pretty much have nothing at all.  Another episode without bringing up Terror (yay!), another episode without sex or a titty shot (shock!), another episode where we learn nothing about wtf is going on with Ian (yawn).  I HAD thought the show had managed to wrap up 3 storylines, but then I saw spoilers online last night that would indicate at least 2 of them will go on :(  Spoilers and not much else under the cut.
Ian got the “here’s what you missed” again this week, which I’m taking as another sign Cam is nearing the swan song ;)  But, ugh,the opening wasn’t funny-or understandable-at all.  Cam’s standing in front of a busload of extras they must’ve bussed in from a local Chicago school of modeling to portray Gay Jesus supporters, he’s wearing his “God Loves Fags” T shirt and says, “What the fuck were you doing last week that was more important than watching Shameless?  Protesting homophobia and bigotry?  Damn right you were.”  WTF?  If people weren’t watching Shameless last week they were exercising good taste, not “protesting” somewhere at 9 PM on a Sunday-or does he mean not watching this shit show is a protest against homophobia and bigotry?  That actually does make sense.  I apologize ;P
Liam  Whatever the point was of aging him and doing a time jump after Monica died went out the window last night when Liam is approached by some public school teachers about his placement for the next school year.  Liam is afraid he’s going to be kept back, but they assure him it’s the opposite, they want to move him up.  He asks if he’ll be put in 3rd grade, but they say they want to try him in 6th.  But if Liam thought skipping a grade would put him in 3rd, that means currently he’s in 1st and the oldest that would make him right now is 7.  The fuck?  The only reason I’m talking about any of this is because that’s how lame the show is now.
Carl  Lip FINALLY says something to him about the dogs smelling up the whole house.  And then shockingly Ian and Carl have a conversation about the dogs too-and West Point.  But of course this is the year of the Gallagher house seeming weird and creepy, so the conversation takes place with a very catatonic-like Ian sitting on the basement steps in weird shadows whilst Carl feeds the dogs.  The brotherly convo goes like this: Ian: Sure they wouldn’t have been better off if you just gassed them like you were supposed to? Carl: I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I: How are you going to order men (note to JW-women can serve in the armed forces now too, even in combat) to kill the enemy if you can’t put down a couple of old dogs?  That’s what officers do-order men (!!!) to kill.  What did you think they were gonna teach you at West Point?  Marching cadences? C: Is that what Gay Jesus would do? I: What, kill old dogs?  Hell no, Gay Jesus is all about inclusion and grace, but you’re not looking to get into heaven.  You want to lead lean mean murdering machines.  (DID ANYONE EVER THINK THAT WAS IAN’S GOAL IN GOING TO WEST POINT?  LEADING KILLING MACHINES TO THEIR DEATHS?  I HATE YOU, JOHN WELLS!)  If you can’t kill a couple of old dogs might be the time to start considering teaching kindergarten?  Nursing school?  
On that note, he gets up and walks away.  Let me interject another rant here-since WHEN is Ian this insensitive sexist jerk who would think of jobs/careers in terms of things real men do vs. traditionally (in the dark ages) “feminine” jobs?  John Wells is a fucking dinosaur that needs to be educated-fucking teaching and nursing jobs are as difficult as soldiering, plus these days they’re expecting teachers to start protecting classrooms with weapons.  He’s such a dumb fuck!
And also-I bet this is the only time Ian will speak to Carl about West Point and we’ll never know how he truly felt about watching Carl grasp at the dream he once had.  Way to blow the opportunity.
There’s a whole stupid side story about Carl and the kid who originally was getting the West Point letter of recommendation.  In another add it to the list of “read the room, school kids arranging to shoot each other isn’t funny, you fucking out of touch white males” plots, Carl needs to get his “killing mojo” back so he goes to visit a local veteran.  I can’t even begin to guess if Wells was trying to make some commentary about PTSD or if he was just using the poor guy for laughs (this is Shameless, as they love to remind us, so I’m guessing Wells was just going for yuks).  The show makes its at least THIRD joke using tattoos as a punchline, and-just like with Mickey and Ian-it fails to be funny.  Get new material, you untalented hack!  Sorry I keep yelling at John Wells-what a waste if he’s not actually reading this ;) 
In Carl’s showdown with the other kid, Wells turns that kid into a poetry-spouting “pansy” at the last second.  The kid can’t bring himself to shoot Carl, so he shoots himself in the thigh saying his warmonger dad can’t make him enlist in the Marines now even if he’s not going to West Point.  I’m sitting at home wondering if the idiot nicked his femoral artery and is about to bleed out.  Carl says the self inflicted wound is just a flesh wound and they’ll be able to tell, so the kid starts blabbering poetry and Carl shoots him in the other thigh to shut him up.  The kid thanks him and Carl walks away.   Now I’m convinced that second shot had to hit the femoral artery and no one’s calling 911 and I bet the kid dies and Carl’s path to West Point is now strewn with his body and Kassidi’s.  
Debbie  I can’t...I’ll try, I’ll try to be brief, because it’s all meaningless.  After spending one night together, Alex says they should live together (because that’s what ALL wacky lesbians do, they move right in), and Debs says yes.  They get to have a cute domestic breakfast scene that by rights should’ve gone to Mickey and Ian, but I digress.  Debbie goes out and buys “lesbian” outfits, which to me just seemed like they were making fun of HER-of course she’s going to hit the mall, she’s just a teenager!  She doesn’t have to be the spokeswomen of lesbians everywhere.  This show has a knack of mocking the wrong things at the wrong times.  It’s their shitty writing, not teen spending habits, that’s ridiculous here.
The next time we see them, they’re in bed again, and Alex is filling Debbie in on her past serious relationships, and then Wells gives Debbie a speech about all the dudes she slept with and it’s so much more cringe-worthy thinking about the fact he wrote it.  Plus it’s another “relationship retcon” speech since Debbie doesn’t mention that every other time she’s had sex it was a form of rape.  Matty (who Wells has Debbie say had a “big dick”) wasn’t conscious (and, btw, John, a 12 year old virgin-which is the oldest Debbie could’ve been at the time with all your screwing around with her still being 16 last year-wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic about “big dicks” for her very 1st time), Derrick (who she lied to about birth control-if he had slipped off a condom right before entering her that would be rape and this case is also-Wells says he had a great body and really knew what he was doing), and the guy she crossed state lines with who was obviously over 21 if he could rent a hotel room in Missouri, PLUS she was drugged and unable to give consent-that dude’s a two for!  Debbie doesn’t mention him, since she can’t remember him, I guess.  She brings up Neil, but says being with him was just financial (she doesn’t bother to say he just watched while she did things to herself.  But hey, if they had had sex, that would’ve been another case of statutory!)  Anyway, then Wells has Debbie spout off about what having sex with another “girl” is like and Alex gets more and more dejected.  She’s just now seeing that Debbie’s not gay?  We’re supposed to feel sorry for her?  When in the previous episode which SEEMS to have taken place the day before (or a couple of weeks, tops, if you’re going by Liam’s time line) Alex said right out loud that she knew Debbie was straight?  WHY IS THIS SHOW SO DUMB?  We haven’t gotten to know Alex well enough to have sympathy for her regardless, but they made the point of letting us know she KNEW going in Debbie is straight.  And of course in John Wells’ world, there’s no such thing as bisexuals, so...
Deb and Alex “break up” (who cares?) and I thought that would be the end of Alex and Debbie’s gay storyline, but no-sounds like they’re going to be the new Ian and Terror-next week “Debbie tries to repair things with Alex” according to Spoiler TV.  NOOOOO!  I wanted that to be one of my three wrapped up storylines!  
Debbie comes back into the Gallagher kitchen, dragging her baby carriage and pillow with her and crying her heart out.  None of the siblings appear very concerned-this is the new Shameless, a bunch of strangers occasionally bumping into each other.  The biggest “shocker” of the scene is the family is eating Popeye’s instead of KFC.  Another jolt that we don’t even know these people anymore, LOL.
Lip  I can’t...I just don’t understand the motivation to try to make Xan part of his life when he doesn’t seem to be bonding with her in the least.  He asks her if she’d want to stay with him if her mom never comes back-but doesn’t tell the kid why HE wants her to stay or ask Xan why she would want to stay when she says okay.  The story is hollow and no one seems to try to be filling it with any substance.  
There’s a couple of scenes at the motorcycle shop and it’s so obvious Lip and Brad have no idea what they’re doing-they always just grab wrenches and poke at bike parts with them.  Last night Lip kept using the ratchet wrench-I think JAW must like the noise it makes.  
Lip sells the bike he restored to get money to buy parental rights from Xan’s mom, and it’s just creepy?  Why would the mom know to trust him?  I’m still not even convinced WE should trust him-sharing a room with her is creepy af.  Anyway, Xan comes running up when Lip’s trying to get the mom to make the deal (and why is Xan out unsupervised in the middle of the night on a dark South Side street?  Even if she did “just” sneak out to look for her mom, this is a clear example that Lip isn’t father of the year, that he’s not meeting the bare minimum requirements as a guardian), and the mom drops to hug Xan because it’s the 100th episode and these two characters we barely know should get the big emotional scene?  Anyway, Lip drops the check and runs, overwhelmed by an actual show of emotion, no doubt.  THIS was the 2nd storyline I was hoping would be over, but then TMZ reported that the actress who plays Xan has been signed for Season 10.  Which, BTW, still hasn’t been officially announced and that just seems weird that they haven’t.  What is Showtime waiting for?  
Fiona  Ugh, she was worse than ever this week.  Can’t believe these are her waning days-it truly seems like Wells is out to punish her.  Fi is on the toilet as Bored brushes his teeth.  Fiona goes right from flushing to brushing her teeth WITHOUT WASHING HER HANDS.  It was so gross-I hope next episode she and Bored have pink eye and mouth thrush.  (Fi also touches her lip after putting on lipstick-still without the benefit of soap.)  They still have no fucking chemistry, and they start talking about the election which of course they don’t see eye to eye on.  Then Fi goes to Patsy’s for the first time in forever and Wells gets to recycle the Fi vs Ian fight over gentrification from last season by having Fi on the opposite side of Frank’s candidate, although they don’t bother to give us any face-to-face interaction.  Which is just fine, since the election storyline was boring and weak anyway.  
Fi is a total...I don’t even know the word-what do you call a boss who doesn’t allow their workers their freedom as voters?  She tells the waitresses to take off their buttons supporting their candidate and that there can be “no electioneering” at the workplace, but puts up a poster for her guy and offers free pie to anyone who puts on one of his buttons.  Would she ever really be that clueless and such a bully?  Does anyone care anymore?  
Later, Fiona goes to the Alibi and has a conversation with Vee where she basically says, “This is what Ford is telling me to think this week...”  Fiona says she wants to vote for the guy against rent control, the businessman  And Vee points out that “the businessman” in Washington isn’t working out too great.  Ooh, Shameless, rushing in with the timely political commentary!  (There will be more too, ugh.)
When Fi shows up at her (or a?) polling place, there’s a rumble going on and Wells has her throw one punch to show us she’s still “South Side”, I guess.  It was gratuitous.  It did not remind us of the show’s glory days, it was a thrown in pointless moment that was so outrageously just tacked on. 
In Fiona’s final scene this week, Bored walks into the apartment building with his massive wooden toolbox reminding us he’s a massive tool, and Fiona tells him how she changed her vote, they kiss, and women’s rights are set back another 100 years.  Oh, and Bored still squints A LOT delivering his lines.  Emmy seems to open hers even wider, probably unconsciously trying to get the other actor to at least try to keep his open once in a while...
Veronica and Kevin  There was some more truly awful “rape jokes” this week. Rape is never going to be funny, and with the week this country suffered through last week-plus the fact that it’s still ongoing-I really wish they had just deleted all the Alibi scenes.  Kev makes up a scoreboard or bingo sheet (it isn’t clear) of all the “types” of rapey behavior that can now be shorthanded into a celebrity’s name.  I won’t even justify the “joke” with some examples.  And then KEVIN becomes a sought-after consultant to make other South Side bars less rapey because he’s the white man running the Alibi and Vee is...not.  
Frank is in the episode more than I’m going to talk about, but suffice it to say I do truly believe his election storyline is over (one out of three is not good enough, Shameless!  Wrap up the boring shit that’s going nowhere and do something with the other shit that’s also going nowhere!)   Mo wins the election, and Wells has a reporter say it’s because voters were afraid to say they were bigots in polls.  Which again, this show is too narrow to try to address larger issues-if that’s Wells’ theory why Trump won, it doesn’t explain how “bigoted voters” elected Obama twice.  Try making the world a better place, Wells.  Yes, there is racism and idiot bigotry here, but there was just something smug about how he justified his fictional political outcome.  There was a scene where Frank’s asking some of the Gallaghers if they’re voting-Carl says he’s too young, Lip says he’s not registered, and Ian says, “What’s the point?”  And that pissed me off too, because we’re having Gay Jesus shoved down our throats, but then Wells seems to be saying Ian won’t bother to vote and would rather blow shit up.  Again, the kid that ORIGINALLY had the dream to serve his country by going to West Point.  And fucking Lip-what, he’s too “smart” to think voting matters?  
(Also in that scene, Ian was eating peanut butter toast, but still no sign of his pill bottles.  Cam actually took a bite of the toast, if that type of dedication to his craft matters to anyone.)
The post credits “joke” was a pedo joke about Mo.  Fuck you, John Wells.  
The only thing Frank was good for this week was to lead us back to Mickey’s house.  As so often with this show, I have to forget context (good thing I’ve had plenty of practice, I guess?) and I will fully admit that when I saw Mickey’s little castle of a house I teared up a little.  It was like seeing an old friend.  
But then of course they had to ruin it by Frank knocking on the door, we hear Terry yelling and hitting a dog named Adolf (they put a yelp in and everything) and Terry opens the door wielding a baseball bat that brought Negan and Jeffery Dean Morgan to mind-I hope that was a shout out to him.  The bat had nails in embedded in it instead of barbed wire, but close enough.  Best not to imagine how much cooler the show might have been with JDM instead of Sean, sigh.  
A much funnier joke than anything they did give us about Mo White would’ve been to have Frank ask Terry, “Still have a connection with Russians?  I have an election to rig.”
Finally we get to Ian but just because he had more screen time this week doesn’t mean we’re any closer to knowing anything.  And I was going to bust Cameron for acting very sleepy and out of it in all of his scenes, but then I realized that’s pretty much how all the Gallagher kids actors have been acting, except for Fiona (and I’d say she’s trying too hard sometimes.  There’s also been lots of scenes so far where it seems like she’s phoning it in-but of course they’re giving her shit to do).  
Anyway, things this episode start in the Gallagher kitchen, Ian groans when he sees the coffee’s all gone, and says he’s not sleeping-he got too used to all the noise in jail, it’s too quiet here.  Well, bitch, the house was always lively when the Milkovich siblings were there too, work on getting them back...
Lip asks him if he met his public defender yet and Ian says Geneva and the Gay Jesus donors got him a lawyer, “rich, queer, too much time on his hands since same sex marriage got fixed.”  Um, why is Ian sounding so put out with the guy without even meeting him?  What’s this superiority complex?  
Later Ian walks into GJ church HQ and he’s limping, but I don’t think it’s a continuity error, I think they probably just had him film scenes out of order that day and I think he went a little too hard, LOL.  Anyway, the GJ kids applaud and Geneva hugs him-she’s into it, he’s not.  At the HQ they’re making silk screen shirts with Ian’s face and Gay Jesus signs.  Geneva is once again spouting out statistics, saying how wildly popular the movement is, 77,000 followers in the past five days-One Direction at their height was gaining popularity around the globe like that, not this Gay Jesus shit.  Ian doesn’t seem to be listening too closely to what she’s spewing, and when two body-builder women walk by he asks Geneva who they are.  She says they’re part of the lesbian legion from an MMA gym and adds, “Your gays turned out to be too sweet to handle security.”  Whatever-they keep trying to act like there’s all this dynamic action happening off screen-NO ONE CARES since all we ever see is Ian moping around, looking like Cameron has a headache.
Next time we see Ian he’s walking around outside in his red kicks (really wish we knew the significance of those-are they supposed to be like Jesus’ sandals?  What happened in the cut scene where he left them in the aisle last season?  I only want to know because the show seems to think they mean SOMETHING)-anyway, where’s Ian going?  Why?  We’re never told-great storytelling this ain’t, kids.  A van slows up next to him and a guy leans out and says, “You’re Ian, right?  Gay Jesus?”  How did the guys in the van know where Ian would be walking?  Do they just circle the Gay Jesus church hoping he’ll come out?  Again, we’ll never know.  The guy continues, “I’ve been watching your videos with my friends.  The burning vans, the sermons-it’s inspiring.”  Ian says thanks.  The guy says, “You really think that’s what Jesus was teaching?”  Ian says, “Inclusion, love, acceptance for all?  Yeah, absolutely.”  Then the van guy says, “You don’t think God sees homosexual bestiality as a sinful perversion of His divine creations?”  Ian’s confused, says, “What?”, sees the sliding panel door of the van open, and takes off running, jumping over fences and at some point in his getaway, pulling some muscle in his tight jeans.  
Next time we see Ian he’s sitting alone in the Gallagher kitchen nursing a beer and his thigh.  (No Bible this time-no sign of his pills either.)  Lip comes in and asks him if he’s okay and Ian says he maybe pulled a hamstring running from homophobes.  Lip says, “I guess there’s nothing new about that, right?” and you wonder just when he stopped caring so completely about his brother.  
Ian doesn’t bother to answer, sips his beer instead.  After a minute he quietly asks Lip, “Think you could do hard time?” Lip: In prison?  Uh...rather not.  I: Gay Jesus kids don’t want me to cop a plea.  Want me to take it to trial.  Get as much publicity for the cause as I can. L: What’s your lawyer say? I: Could be looking at 10-15 if I don’t take a deal.  (Me at home, screaming at the TV: WHAT ARE THE CHARGES?  WHY CAN’T THEY EVER TELL US ANYTHING?  WHAT ARE THEY SAYING YOU DID THAT’S ON PAR WITH MICKEY’S BULLSHIT ATTEMPTED 2ND DEGREE MURDER SENTENCE????)
Lip, rather than saying ANYTHING to the brother he’s closest to about maybe not giving up his entire young adulthood to a cause, not saying something like, “You’d be older than the real Jesus got to live till by the time you get out”, not saying if he thinks Ian’s an idiot if he’s even questioning doing hard time in a bad place, no, rather than that, he takes his coffee out of the microwave and comes around the counter to the same side as Ian and says, “You ah, hearing from Shim again?” I: Sometimes.  (Me at home: WHAT?  WHEN?  What does that look like when it happens?) L: Well, what does Shim think? I: Unclear.  (Oh, Ian, are you kidding me?  All this time you thought you were talking to god but you’ve just been playing with a Magic 8 Ball?) L: Xan’s mom showed up today.  (Guess we’re done talking about Ian then!)  She’s a junkie.  Hookin’... I: What are you going to do? L: I don’t know. I: Maybe you should try asking Shim. L: Maybe.  
End scene.  So again, we get tantalizingly close to a discussion about what might be going on inside Ian’s head-is he getting it?  That the Gay Jesus movement is just using him at this point?  Or does he really think going to prison as the highly recognizable face of said movement is going to work out somehow-other than him not dying a painful and brutal death?  And why can’t Lip give enough of a shit to at least ask him not to go?  Fuuuuuuck.  
Next Ian’s back at GJ HQ.  Geneva comes in and says she didn’t see him come in.  He says he came in the back-all the hugging and applause when he comes in the front is kinda weird.  Since Geneva is the only one who ever hugs him, I hope she’s getting the hint.  He’s looking over the “Free Gay Jesus” posters.
Ian: What is this? Geneva: Couple of the arty kids are working out a few ideas for if you do end up in prison. I: Couple assholes in a van chased me last night.  Apparently they’re not very big fans of my interpretation of Bible verse. G: Fuckers.  I’ll get you a couple of lesbian legion body guards.  They’d love nothing more than to a chance to stomp homophobes.  (Because, yeah, THAT was Jesus’ message.) Ian holds up a Che Jesus shirt with an unintentionally hilarious graphic of him wearing a beret-Showtime probably thinks fans want to buy them (I wrote these notes before Steve Howey tweeted he wants one last night.  It got less than a thousand likes, and I bet that number would be less than half if Cam hadn’t replied).  
I: Think any of this is gonna end up making a difference? G: Ian, you’ve given thousands of gay and lesbian teenagers a voice.  (Insert Mickey gif of “Not really tho” here.)  You’ve inspired us to stand up and fight for ourselves.  
So much wrong with so much of that.  First of all, is Geneva LGBT?  She was a runaway who ran away from having to give blowjobs, right, not because her parents kicked her out for being LGBT?  And she’s been crushing on Ian since Day 1, so, probably not “L”, and Wells clearly doesn’t believe in “B”, so who is Geneva to say “us”?  And next, IF Ian/Gay Jesus has given kids “a voice”, what is he saying for them-are the teens really into his whole “Jesus was a junkie”, “my god is non-binary” shouting that they haven’s shown since last year?  Don’t teens get bored and move on to the next thing when their idols aren’t doing anything new?  Lastly, she says they are standing up and fighting for themselves-where, when, how?  
I: Know what I was thinking when I was running away from those bastards?  (Me at home: NO!  We never know what you’re thinking!  That’s the whole damn problem with your storylines!)  It’s been 2000 years since Jesus died on the cross and I’m still running for my life down an alley because I fall in love with men instead of women.  (No, Ian, you’ve only ever loved one (1) man-fucking admit that for once and then get on with your life.  That line should’ve been “have sex with”, no one deserves to be chased down for that either, and it wouldn’t have made me exasperated with Ian over the whole “love” thing, which is a separate issue this show fucking needs to handle before it’s all said and done with Ian.)  
Then one of the GJ kids comes in to report there’s a bunch of Nazi’s keeping people from getting to one of the polls and we don’t see Ian again this episode. But again, I hope that they’re finally having him wake up to the fact that NO ONE cares about him.  The family has washed its hands of him, the Gay Jesus followers WANT him to go to prison (and probably die) and be a martyr for the cause.  Time to ask yourself who is the only person who ever looked at you and actually saw you there, Ian.  The only person to look you in the eye and say, “I love you.”   
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