Okay this has popped up on my dash again and I resisted the urge the first few times but now I can’t.
In college I was friends with a bunch of exchange students and went to a party off campus with them. After a couple hours the owners of the apartment called it a night but my friends wanted to continue to hang out. One of the other exchange students volunteered his place. Only problem was there were 10 of us and our only ride was a honda civic.
So we had a 6 foot tall Swedish dude with two Japanese girls on his lap in the front passenger seat, three Saudi students and me sitting in the back seat with two Thai students sitting on our laps and a Mexican-American woman driving.
I being paranoid asked, “What do we do if we get pulled over?”
The driver tries to look at me, “Do you speak another language or can you fake Swedish?”
“No, but I know ASL.”
She nodded, “Okay so the plan is if we get in trouble, no one speaks English and you’re Deaf.”
That was our plan guys.
This is the best comment I’ve ever had on this post.
Natasha Romanoff was twisted, abused, undone, and lived a very brutal, very savage life. She was a monster.
She looked at that, she looked at what she was.
And it turned her into a person who makes dumb jokes about Steve being a fossil. Someone who is constantly trying to get her 90 year old friend a date. Someone who tirelessly works to make up for every debt she owes. Someone who always tells people that it’s not their fault when bad things happen. Someone who actively puts herself in harm’s way armed with nothing but a jumpsuit and a gun in order to protect innocent people while giant green rage monsters and demigods and super-soldiers surround her.
My headcanon is that there was no Budapest mission. Clint has a spectacularly bad sense of direction and Nat had a head injury and to this day no one’s entirely sure where Black Widow and Hawkeye were for those two weeks but they came back with three gunshot wounds, one broken leg, two dislocated shoulders, one horrible haircut and a duffel bag full of bootleg whiskey.
Here we go, this is the Black Widow/Hawkeye movie we’ve been waiting for. Marvel, make it happen.
Bruce: When I moved in, he insisted on funding all of my research. Except, you know, ever since The Incident, all my work’s been theoretical. It’s not actually that expensive. I’ve started just spending all the extra on fruit pies, just to see if he was keeping track. He isn’t. There are a lot of unused rooms in this building, and at least three of them are stacked floor to ceiling with fruit pies. He hasn’t said a word.
Natasha: It turned out Pepper and I both speak French. Tony doesn’t. Now, whenever he walks in, we just start whispering in French and giggling. Half the time we’re just exchanging recipes. He pretends not to be eavesdropping, but the other day I caught him asking JARVIS what ‘des oeufs’ meant.
Clint: I bought this big bag of little plastic flies, right? And whenever he’s not paying attention, I throw them into his drink. Half the time he doesn’t even notice and just drinks the damn things, but the other half? He starts checking all the house filtration systems, the exterminators, the works. He can’t figure out where all these flies are coming from. He’s fumigated three times in the last month.
Thor: I attempted to provide assistance with a project, but Stark assured me that it was ‘very technical’, and that I would not understand the intricacies. I can see why he would think so, as I am a mere Prince of Asgard, taught such basic engineering when I was a child and his ancestors could not yet walk. It has been five weeks, and he still has not corrected the misaligned condenser coil causing the problem.
Steve: I don’t know what Howard taught that kid, but he seems to be under the impression that homosexuality was invented in 2000. He keeps leaving magazines and pictures lying around like the sight of two men holding hands is going to give me a heart attack. I don’t have the heart to tell him about the Greeks.
Interviewer: So how are things in Avengers Tower?
Tony: How are things? I have no idea. I really don’t. There’s some kind of insect infestation in the vents and I think a spy is trying to seduce my girlfriend into moving to France. I tried to prank Captain America with gay porn, but him and Thor just started trying to reverse-engineer workout routines. The other day I went into one of the spare rooms, and I found some kind of one-armed sex hobo sitting on a throne of empty fruit pie boxes. I just walked out and closed the door. I don’t even wanna know.
Loki is the Philosopher King 