#eating crow

[selunesdreams]

sharing this stunning Rook de Riva x Lucanis commission (based on my ongoing fic Eating Crow) by @mooreaux!

[voids-royal]

Didn't like the backlash to her article...

AMANDA PLATELL: I'm so disgusted by what I said about Kate...

I'm now not just eating my words - but choking on them. So, yes, I'm sorry for doubting you, Kate.

Interesing to see some of the details coming out in the MSM now - like there being a third person in the room. Neil Sean was saying this from the jump.

[christeeenith]

So as some of you know, I make simple little fic covers with emojis so I can tell which ao3 fic is which on my kobo (or else its all small text on a white background and unreadable) so here is 'Eating Crow' by @selunesdreams

[zee-man-chatter]

Black Crows Beware — Steer Clear of the UK or You’ll Be Eaten

Excerpt from article by Larry Johnson of Sonar21

How dumb are the leaders of Britain’s Labour Party? Crikey! They are certifiable cretins, Prime Minister Keir Starmer in particular. I guess he thought it a grand idea to send Labour members to the United States to campaign for Kamala Harris. Apart from being a glaring case of meddling in the internal affairs of another country (an activity that Labour routinely attributes to Russia), it also reveals that Starmer is not a chess player — i.e., he failed to consider what would happen if Trump prevailed.

Then there is Britain’s equally moronic Foreign Minister, David Lammy. You know, the guy who is supposed to be a skilled diplomat capable of calling your baby ugly, but making you feel good about it? Well, as you can see from his X posts at the top of this article, he once thought it a good idea to label Trump a vile racist and Nazi sympathizer. This coming from a guy who insists that the UK continue to funnel money to real Nazis in Ukraine. Lammy apparently does not grasp the concept of irony. Starmer and Lammy are eating some big-time crow.

[wowzerwyrm]

I learned a little more about the phrase ‘eating crow’ today. I thought it was just a fancy way to tell someone to screw off, but apparently it’s actually a lot more specific, and is more about making someone eat their own words by proving them wrong. There are several similar phrases, all to do with eating something unpleasant.

Cause eating a crow wouldn’t be very tasty, I imagine. Stringy, they eat roadkill, probably kind of dusty. I mean, I love crows, but I wouldn’t want to eat one.

And I was thinking, yeah, that makes sense, that relates to how we don’t like to hear that we’re wrong. We have our worldview, and we prefer that worldview, and our brains are generally built to sustain that worldview unless we are very clearly proven wrong in a way that makes sense to us.

But growing and changing our minds is important. And though it can be unpleasant, I don’t think it has to be.

So, why don’t we season that crow a little bit? Make it a little more palatable, use a fork and knife, sit ourselves down at a nice table for an unusual dinner of roast crow.

Because I think once we realize that changing our minds can be a good thing, it doesn’t have to be unpleasant to change our minds. In fact, it can be a fun experience, if you’re open to the idea. It feels nice to know your knowledge of the world is getting more accurate.

And it’s okay to take breaks, and to take it one small bite at a time. We’re more likely to reject something outright if it’s forced on us all at once. Taking your time to read up on something confusing or even painful is a healthy, better way to gain knowledge. Because sometimes it is painful to realize we were wrong. Sometimes we’ve been wrong for years about something important.

But it’s always better to sit down and take that first bite, instead of letting it rot.

[dbaydenny]

Eat your crow slowly

to digest it well, it's sour,

an unseemly after-birth

of your crass delivery,

you need the lost nutrition.

.

D W Eldred

[imagine-loki]

Eating Crow

Title: Eating Crow

Rating: M

Author: ckoehlrbm

Prompt: Imagine Loki faking his death in order to go undercover.

Chapter: 1/? (Four intended chapters, but we all know what they say about intentions.)

Note: Please be kind. This is my first multi-chapter Loki fic. I have submitted several imagines and some one-shots, but fingers crossed our Emerald King will behave just slightly for me while writing this!

Chapter One: Breaking

Air wasn’t supposed to taste like it burned, but this did. It prickled at the skin as she reached out desperately, trying to stop the inevitable.

She had once watched a quarter balance on its side at the entrance to a sewer. Spinning and tantalizing, she knew instinctively she had no hope of catching the quarter, even at her small size. She was seven and closer to the ground than the grown man who had dropped the coin, but as it wobbled ever so carefully, she knew it would fall.

Even as she reached out to Loki now, she knew he would fall. She wasn’t tall enough to stretch to reach him, even as she screamed for him to hold on. Give her one more moment. She could almost brush her fingers against his. Don’t fall. Please don’t fall. She was almost there….

The snap of her spine widened her eyes as she heard it. She tried still to reach but she could no longer see Loki’s fingers….

  Alys woke with a scream of “NO! LOKI!” and tried to bolt upright, forgetting for a moment that she no longer had that ability. It was lost to her as much as her legs were lost to her. She felt cold enter her heart again and the desire to weep was present, but the soul-deep need to cry was absent. It had been for a long while now. She had learned a valuable lesson.

You could love someone so hard that their absence rendered your soul into a pile of shreds and every breath hurt…. But you could live with that hurt.

That fateful day, a sword of one of the ancient dead had severed her spine, narrowly missing her esophagus and stomach. That hadn’t hurt so much as knowing that she had failed Loki, failed to be there the one time he truly needed her. As Hela’s troops had overrun the Bifrost, slaughtering Asgardians, she had been focused on saving him and she had failed…

And countless souls had perished for her efforts. Not that anyone was as crass as to openly blame her for the deaths that she had not prevented.

Thor had been her companion during her recovery, lifting her to and from bed as needed. The blond giant of a male had cradled her in those too-large, seemingly too-clumsy hands as if she were a precious bird and murmured about how he would always be around to help the sister of his heart. That surely Valhalla awaited her and the Valkyries would shake before her might.

Tony had designed her wheelchair thanks to a partnership between Stark Industries and an Israeli tech firm that permitted her to fight on her feet if she needed to. Her house was now a smart house, powered by the same tech that fuelled the Stark Industries building in Manhattan, and completely disabled friendly. Tony had sent in crews of workmen to make sure that she had every available comfort once she was discharged from the hospital.

Rhodey had been a guardian angel and punched the guy who called her a ‘rapeable freak’. Which was partially Rhodey’s fault since he had set up the date, but Alys didn’t blame him for other people’s idiocy. An ableist was going to be an ableist, an asshole would be an asshole.

Pepper… Pepper Potts was God’s own personal assistant. She managed everything, found live-in help, made sure maintenance was done, that Alys’ stipend from being ‘Avenger support staff’ wasn’t terminated when she was disabled, coordinated Alys’ medical care, arranged for interviews with world-class surgeons on the incredibly generous Stark Employee Health Plan, found a therapist for her to speak with when grief and hopelessness had spiraled Alys into a suicide attempt…. Pepper Potts deserved sainthood for the way she simply handled everything and then hugged you so tight that you almost couldn’t breathe for the feeling of being home.

Wanda had taken time to make sure she ate. There were soups, native Sokovian foods, some things that Vision had helped the young woman make. They were still frequent guests and most welcome. Wanda never made her feel helpless and Vision was careful to state that she was still Alys, even if she couldn’t walk. She didn’t need legs to use her brain and be herself.

Natasha gave her physical therapy to make sure her legs didn’t fully atrophy. Alys had not seen the point and had verbally expressed a wish to kick the Russian assassin numerous occasions when she felt pain from her legs being moved around. Natasha had been quick to tell her that even feeling pain was a good sign that perhaps there could be some recovery of movement. They had cried together the first time she moved her big toes, celebrating with ice cream and a rousing rendition of ‘Wait For It’ from the Hamilton musical. Of course, they had done that DURING the show, which the cast had not exactly appreciated until Tony had cleared up the misunderstanding. After that, Alys had a standing invite to join the show during matinees.

Steve had been a sweetheart the entire time, but never more so than the first time she had tried to get out of the tub by herself and ended up falling face first in the bathroom. She had screamed her frustration, weeping helplessly because she could not get into her wheelchair when it was RIGHT THERE! She should have been strong enough to do this SIMPLE task, but she wasn’t. Her legs were laying behind her like limp noodles.

The super soldier had entered the bathroom and blushed at her nudity before handing her a robe and helping her get situated on the edge of the tub. Then, with as much care as Thor, he lifted her, bypassed the wheelchair, and took her straight to her bedroom, sitting her at her vanity. “You know, there was a girl with polio in the apartment next to my mother’s. I would watch her and do her hair at times. I learned that women never feel quite right unless their hair is on point.” That said, he snagged her brush and began to comb out her brunette locks until they shone before braiding them deftly and tying it off with a green ribbon.

She smiled at the fond memories of her team putting the pieces of her back together. They had done what had seemed impossible at one point. She originally had not wanted to live in a world where Loki wasn’t there. They had persevered and won her over, though, and now she could not imagine anything else.

Alys rose for the day and with the help of her live-in aid, Brigid, bathed, dressed, and cooked her morning meal. There was a serenity in knowing that she wasn’t alone, that if she fell out of her chair there was someone there…. That her team was a shout away, that FRIDAY was watching out for her.

There was a knock on the door and Alys frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone…. She looked at Brigid who shrugged and went back to tending the start of the evening pot roast. Alys eyed it to make sure it was large enough for everyone they were expecting before gesturing silently to Brigid to get the other one out as well. If Banner made an appearance, they would need more food.

When the brunette opened the door, she couldn’t help but stare. This could not be happening. Not again. Not when she had worked so hard to get beyond this…

Green eyes stared at her in adoration, black hair was smoothed back and flowing loose down his back. He was bittersweet trouble like dark chocolate ice cream- delicious temptation.

Alys felt herself tremble as she gazed up at him, felt the burn of tears even as she shook her head. “No. Not this. Not this dream. Please. Sweet merciful gods, not this dream….”

“My queen, my love, what dream?”

Her breath came faster and she closed her eyes, trying to regain control. She had to remember what Dr. Finklestein said. The dreams were because of the trauma. The trauma was because she had lost him so quickly. The loss still affected her, even five years later. She needed to breathe and find her center so she could exit the dream.

“You died, Loki. That day on the Bifrost. You died, my love. I’m so sorry. I know I was supposed to try to save you, but I couldn’t. This is a dream and Dr. Finklestein says that they should not still be occurring. I need this to stop, Loki. Oh, my love... “ She was rambling, even in her own head. There was so much to tell Loki, to let him know, to affirm her love still burned…

The tears were flowing down her cheek and she could taste the salt of them. They were bitter, but she could not stop them. Her arms came around her body even as her chair moved back, away from the door. She was allowing him in, even as she screamed for Brigid.

The nurse was a tall red-head, frizzy haired, friendly, bright, and personable. “Miss Crow? Are you well?”

“Brigid, this is a dream. It has to be. It’s a dream. Wake me. I can’t wake up. Please. It’s not real. He’s not here. I know he’s not here.”

“Miss Crow, you’re hyperventilating. It does look like we have a guest. Breathe for me. Slow. An eight count, miss. In, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…. Hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… Again, Miss Crow.” Thus being distracted by the order to simply breathe, she listened to Brigid turn to their guest.

“And who are you to so upset Miss Crow? Do you know who she is? This is Alys Crow, hero of Asgard, personal friend to the Avengers! She has Tony Stark and King Thor on speed dial. Do we need to call them?”

Loki’s voice was darkly amused, sweet sinful velvet. “You could call my brother or the Man of Iron, but neither of them could keep me away from my queen. In fact, do call the Man of Iron. Call my brother. Both of them know I am here.”

Alys’ brain was racing. This was looking more and more like a reality. A reality where Loki lived. Where Loki publicly called her queen rather than whispering it heatedly in her ear as he commanded her body like a king. Thor and Tony both knew he was here?

How had this happened?

The answer came to her so quick that she could not bottle up the rage that flooded her body. She reached out, grabbed a Waterford vase and threw it at Loki as hard as she could. “You lying BASTARD!” she screamed out as crystals shattered around Loki. “You lied to me! TO ME?! You DARED! LIE! TO! ME!”

He was staring at her like he had never seen her before. More specifically, he was staring at her chair. The look on his face was horror and Alys felt her heart shatter even further.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VDUlDgOqCRt5AB-mOeBSwl-NyuAWDuFzFPc7zsn3Slk/edit?usp=drivesdk

[cheddaryouthanme]

Round of applause for Adam Brody?

I was one of the very few people who didn’t watch the OC at the height of its popularity, so I’ve been writing off Adam Brody as a vapid teen heart-throb for years. Then I saw him in an episode of New Girl, and literally had to google it to make sure that was actually him because he was SO goddamn funny. Who knew he had that much range? I know he was only in Shazam! for a hot minute, but he was great. TOTALLY nailed the tone and mannerisms of Jack Dylan Grazer’s Freddy, and was really funny to boot. So I guess what I’m saying is - I’m sorry Adam Brody. I was wrong to underestimated you.