#any time rose or Blanche are the ones to hold Dorothy (because Dorothy is often on the giving end of hugs & things

[eeblouissant]

Ignoring the context of this scene because, lmao, but this still sends me into cardiac arrest every time

[occasionalfics]

Warrior, v (Thor x Reader)

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

Summary: Everyone’s gearing up for the coming battle, but you learn something that changes everything.

A/N: So I had two sections that were not super short but not super long on their own. I could’ve posted them together, but that seemed like it would be almost too long for a single part, so instead, I’m posting them separately. That way, you guys get more Warrior for longer! 

Tags: @oknstark​ @httpmcrvel​ @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @markusstraya​ @125bluemachine125​ @blvckxsoulz @jooheonie-bee (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

Words: 2,208 (like I said, not super short, not as long as the other chapters)

~~~ It appeared that Val was trustworthy after all. If she repeated anything of your story to Thor, he said nothing to you about it, at least. So you believed she kept the whole thing to herself, which you were grateful for. You would tell him, you insisted. One day. When he no longer mourned the death of his father and the loss of his home, you would tell him.

In the interim, you trained. Sometimes Thor trained, sometimes Val, but you had a long way to go before Thanos was to arrive. No one truly knew when that would be, just that he was on his way.

Captain America returned with the King of Wakanda as well as the Winter Soldier. You’d never met any of them - not even the Captain, truthfully. But you knew their fights were often fought for the greater good, so you took no offense. He seemed nice enough, if tense and maybe a bit protective of the Winter Soldier - who, at no point in your gazing at him, seemed like he needed protection. Tony Stark, however, glared at the man as if his eyes could make him explode.

The longer you trained, the more equipped for battle you became. It had been so long since you’d truly brandished your sword, too long since you’d joined an army. You slowly remembered why being a warrior had been so important to you on Asgard. It was your calling. You started to believe Val’s words when she said you would’ve made a good Valkyrie - perhaps not the best, but a Valkyrie nonetheless.

You said so to no one, but as the days dragged on, you wished Sif would arrive. You didn’t know if she would at all - how many of these Avengers did she know? How many times had she come to Midgard? Where was she, since Thor had assured you she hadn’t been destroyed by Hela the way Hogun, Fandral, and Volstagg had?

For the first time in over an hundred years, you missed Asgard. Truly missed it - the place, not simply the people that had made it home for you. You missed it in your heart, in your bones, in your dreams. You missed its sunshine, its mountain ranges, the Bifrost...

Your dreams were starting to drive you crazy. Every night, it was the same - a dream you’d had when you’d landed in Norway that had stopped months after you’d become accustomed to living on Midgard. A dark shadow crept up a wall, into a bedroom, and wrapped you in its cold arms. It made sure to cover your mouth, to keep you from screaming. It jumped from the window with you in its arms, then ran across the palace grounds until it brought you to the Bifrost and Heimdall. It threw you at the ground, watched as you skidded across the floor until you hit the wall. Heimdall jumped, and the shadow took form. It was Odin.

“Traitor!” he screamed, just before you woke up, shivering and covered in cold sweat.

You took to the showers after the dream. There was no other choice but to clean yourself off and tend to the garden, no matter if it were four in the morning or nine.

You were out there one morning before the sun came up. You’d just pulled a weed from the plot of a tulip when the door behind you shut.

“It’s a little early to be pulling weeds, don’t you think?” Thor asked.

You quickly glanced at him over your shoulder, then shook your head before going back to work. “Can’t sleep,” you said.

His footsteps approached until he was beside you, standing at his full height while you kneeled before the plots. “Me neither,” he said, then he sat beside you and fiddled with the branch of a fern.

“Be careful with Dorothy, please,” you said. “She may look strong, but she’s quite frail against the hands of a God, especially one that wields lightning.”

He laughed softly. “Of course you named them,” he said.

You nodded to the plant in front of you. “This one is Blanche. That one,” you pointed to the rose plot next to you, “is Rose, obviously. The succulent next to Dorothy is Sophia.”

“Those are...peculiar names,” he said.

“They’re the cast of an old television show here,” you said. “The Golden Girls, because these four are my favorites. Just don’t tell Rock and Dean across the patio. They fancy themselves rebels without a cause.” You glared at the tomato and pepper plants by the door.

“Were you friends with these people?” he asked, still inspecting Dorothy’s leaves.

You shook your head. “Just a fan. The woman that played Rose is the only member of the cast still living. Hilarious woman, Betty White is. You’d love her.”

“If she’s anything like you, I’m sure I would.”

You stopped rummaging around Blanche and stared at him. You didn’t tell him that you were nothing like Betty White, but thought that surely, after 200 years and New Mexico, Thor had moved on. You would not hold it against him, nor hope against hope that he still held a flame for you. It would be ridiculous to think otherwise; Odin had made sure of that. You’d convinced yourself of it.

But then, people did not say things like that without meaning.

“Are you not scared of Thanos coming?” he asked.

Scared was not a word you thought was in his vocabulary. Thor was the bravest man you’d ever known. Sometimes he was so brave that he was stupid, but you didn’t mind that so much. It made his life interesting, to say the least. That’s what he would’ve said the last time you’d seen him on Asgard, anyway. You wondered what he’d say now, eyepatch, short hair, and all.

“Captain America had to bring the Winter Soldier out of a cryogenic slumber,” you said, sitting back on your heels. “Of course I’m scared. But we are large in number and ability.”

“He has the Infinity Stones.”

“Captain America?” you asked.

Thor shook his head. “Thanos. I know not how many he possesses, but he’s on a quest for them.”

You could feel your eyes go wide. “That’s why he’s coming, isn’t it?” you asked. You knew, somewhere in the compound, was a small glowing box that Loki had once possessed - all details you’d learned in the aftermath of what happened in Manhattan. The Tesseract.

“The Guardians gave the Orb to the Nova Corp. Sif and Volstagg gave the Aether to Taneleer Tivan, the Tesseract is here, and Vision…” He trailed off.

You’d had few interactions with the humanoid artificial intelligence named Vision, though you’d lived with him for some time. Your eyes widened when you thought of him, though. In the center of his forehead laid a small yellow gem.

“He is one of them, isn’t he?” you asked. “The Mind Stone.”

Thor nodded. “There are already too many here alone. Xandar will never be able to fend off Thanos from getting the Power Stone. He may have some trouble finding the Reality Stone in that museum of Tivan’s, but it won’t be long before he has that one, too. The Space, Mind, and Time Stones won’t be safe when he arrives. The latter is being kept by Doctor Stephen Strange, who should be arriving any day.”

“And the Soul Stone?” you asked.

He shook his head. “No one knows who has it or where it is. My best guess is that, if Thanos is not already in possession of it, he will be. Soon.”

You sat back further, your toes curling so they weren’t supporting your weight on their own anymore. It dawned on you that it would not matter how much you trained, if Thanos acquired all six Infinity Stones. Your nightmares seemed like nothing in comparison.

You hadn’t noticed until then, but your breathing had gone uneven. You leaned forward, digging your nails into the soil around Blanche. You couldn’t blink, could barely heave a breath past your throat, which was clogging with nothing. “There will be no stopping him,” you said, shaking your head as the rest of your body convulsed. Images of everything you had - everything around you - being destroyed, turned into dust, all flashed before your mind’s eye. “He’ll take everything.”

“We won’t let him,” Thor said, leaning forward to encroach on your quickly blurring vision.

“How?” you asked. “He’ll be too powerful. Who are we, compared to a tyrant with all six of the Stones? What could we possibly do if he has the Gauntlet?”

He had no answer. Of course he didn’t. There was no answer to give. There was only darkness, an abyss of nothing before you that was much worse than any shadow. It was all shadows combined with the object of exiling all life on Midgard.

You looked at him, forcing yourself to stop moving so much. “I spent so long waiting for you to come back to me,” you whispered. “And now that you have, it will mean nothing.”

Again, he was silent.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, looking at Blanche for a moment, unsure of who, exactly, you were apologizing to. Were you failing Thor or the plant by letting Thanos come and destroy all you held dear? Without an answer, you stood suddenly and turned back toward the door. “I have to go.”

He caught up with you before you had your hand on the doorknob. “Where are you going?” he asked, still quietly.

Your arms tensed, and your fists balled. You could hardly stand to have his hand on you. “I...I don’t know. I just...I can’t sit here and talk anymore.” You tried to reach for the door, but he wouldn’t budge. You glared at him as you said, “I have to do something.” Then you focused on the sleeve of his shirt, unsure of what would happen if you dared look at his eye for too long.

Would your resolve break? Would the world? Would it matter, now that you knew what Thanos was after? Everything else felt so miniscule and meaningless, but somehow that made you only more secretive and guarded. If divulging felt inappropriate before, it felt downright ludicrous now.

“What are you going to do on your own?” he asked. “What could you possibly think is going to change right now?”

You shut your eyes, took in a deep breath, then let it out. “I. Don’t. Know.”

His grip tightened. It almost hurt, but you were tense, and you knew that had something to do with it. “Please,” he said. “Before...before everything falls apart, I have to tell you something.”

You shook your head, glaring at the ground. “No, you don’t.” It would mean nothing. You could do nothing about whatever it was he wanted to say. At the end of the day or week or month, everything would be gone, and any action you took now would be absolutely null and void.

“(Y/N),” he said.

“Stop, Thor.” You allowed yourself to look him in the eye before you went on. “Something bigger than anything we’ve ever dealt with is coming. There’s no reason to waste your breath.”

“Breath cannot be wasted,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes at the absurd saying. When his eye met yours again, his brows were harshly furrowed, perhaps to make up for the lack of fire in the socket behind his eyepatch. The other eye burned hot as you looked upon him. “Why are you so insistent on denying the expression of my feelings?”

You paused. You’d known what he wanted to say, or at least some part of you did. But now was not the time - that you knew with absolute certainty. Now was the time to sharpen your sword, to somehow find a suit of armor, to say your goodbyes. If Thanos was heading for Midgard, where three of the six Infinity Stones could be found, there was no hope for tomorrow. Not anymore.

“Because there has always been a tyrant between us,” you said, your head suddenly too full and hot. Your vision blurred with tears that pooled along your lower lid. “Because there has never been a good time for us, Thor. And now…” A tear streaked across your face, and you wiped it away just as quickly.

He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. It wasn’t so much a comforting gesture, but rather a releasing of tension as a reaction to feeling hopeless. You just couldn’t figure out if he’d given up trying to talk to you, or if he’d stopped believing anyone could defeat Thanos.

“Fine,” he whispered, letting go of your hand over the doorknob. “You’re right. I apologize.”

You didn’t move at first. You searched his gaze for some reason, for an answer he couldn’t give. Or maybe you’d kept too many things from him, and he no longer trusted you with answers. Either way, he looked away from you, out toward the horizon, then stepped away from the door.

You opened the door, stepped through the threshold, then stopped and turned around. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I promise that this is the last time I will ever hurt you, Thor Odinson.”

[one-of-us-blog]

Leaving the Lanai - A Golden Girls Retrospective

In this final post regarding The Golden Girls, Eli will flashback to his time covering the series at Drew’s insistence, summarize his thoughts on the program as a whole and the various escapades the girls have experienced, and answer the most important question of all: has he been converted into a full-fledged fan of the show?

Keep reading to find out…

I can’t believe we have reached the end of this phase of the blog!  Despite our progress slowing drastically in recent months, I can still remember when this crazy project started, and I still find it to be a lot of fun sharing this experience with Drew.  When this all kicked off, I think I made my feelings about The Golden Girls pretty clear.  To me, it was a fairly standard, multi-camera sitcom that I had watched here and there growing up.  I found it to be amusing, but I didn’t really identify with any of the characters (the fact that I was a young boy at the time that it aired probably had something to do with that), and I thought there were far better examples of shows to point to as representative of what I considered to be a fairly weak era of television.

I have now watched and summarized every episode of The Golden Girls, and I can safely say that my feelings have changed drastically.  If I’m being perfectly fair in my criticism, many of the complaints that I tend to have for shows of this kind still apply: they are often quite predictable, the multi-camera approach to sitcoms feels very dated, the plot is sometimes blatantly condensed to keep things safely in the ballpark of 22 minutes, and the events of one week generally have little to no impact on the events of the next.  But despite those limitations, this show somehow manages to transcend the disposable fare of similar programs of its day, and it has made a lasting impression on me.  It helps that I now have some actual life experience behind me, and that I have made some incredible memories with my own tight-knit group of friends (shoutout to the Honey Boys).  For the record, Drew, if we ever find ourselves old and all alone, I had better be the first person you call as a potential housemate.  But there is just something about the dynamic between these four actresses that was incredibly special, and the writing plays to their strengths in a major way.  Bea Arthur (still my favorite of the cast) is perfect as the hard and stoic but deeply caring Dorothy, Betty White (who could have easily played more of the Blanche type given her past roles and public persona) is wonderful as the naïve but kind-hearted Rose, Rue McClanahan (who surprised me the most in the series) fully embodies the selfish but passionate Blanche, and Estelle Getty (who I enjoyed turning into a monster in my head canon) had some of the most touching moments of all as the sharp-tongued but protective Sophia.  I think if you had exchanged even one of these actresses, the experiment probably wouldn’t have worked.  But thankfully, what we got was a genuinely hilarious and sometimes quite moving glimpse into the lives of four women who have gone far beyond friendship to become family.

When people latched onto this show again in recent years, it mostly felt (to me) like a trendy thing to do because it was ironically funny to be a fan of an older show about a bunch of older women.  I still think there is an element of that for some, but I understand now that there is a real reason that the show has maintained or reclaimed its popularity.  It just works, and it does so with a consistency that is pretty astounding.  It’s amazing to me that it found its groove almost instantly in its run.  While my favorite episodes fell somewhere in the middle of the show’s history, there wasn’t a weak season among the seven, and aside from the mysterious disappearance of Coco (for which Sophia eluded justice after all), it honestly hit the ground running from the very beginning.  This show has endured in a way that others cannot, and I have to give it credit for that.

So, am I now a die-hard fan of The Golden Girls?  I am definitely a fan, and I have no reservations at all about making that claim.  I don’t think I will ever be as fiercely loyal to it as some others, and there are still other classic sitcoms that I would personally rank higher based on my own preferences.  I don’t really feel the need to own any Golden Girls-related merch, or to memorize the contradictory details of the family histories of the characters.  But while I stop short of considering myself a “super fan,” I now have a genuine appreciation for what these ladies accomplished, and I think it’s safe to say that Drew has accomplished his goal.  My wife watched nearly every episode along with me, and my daughter turned into a big fan of the show along this journey as well, and the show became a real source of joy in our house, even when I felt way too busy to write another recap.  And what’s more, I will now forever connect The Golden Girls with my friendship with Drew, and that means it will always be near and dear to my heart.

Thanks, Drew, for undertaking this long, strange adventure with me, and for always being a positive force in my life!  The blog hasn’t reached its end just yet, as you still have quite a few James Bond films to examine, and I will still be knocking out the entirety of The Golden Palace, a show that will be a brand-new experience for me.  But I’m looking forward to seeing this project through to the end, and then finding out what crazy endeavor we decide to pursue in the future.

Next, I’ll be sharing my recap of the first episode of The Golden Palace, and then I’ll be holding my nose as Drew returns with his recap of the completely unofficial Never Say Never Again.  For now, as always, thank you for being a friend, and for being One of Us!

[one-of-us-blog]

The Days and Nights of Sophia Petrillo (TGG, Season 4, Episode 2)

Today Eli is forced to watch and recap The Days and Nights of Sophia Petrillo, Episode 2 of the fourth season of The Golden Girls.  Will this episode be a glimpse into the sad, humdrum days of an aging woman, or will Sophia turn out to have the most exciting and fulfilling life of anyone in the household?  Keep reading to find out…

As always, let me begin by telling Jon what a fine job he did with his latest Doctor Who recap.  Great job, Cap!  I appreciated your impassioned plea on behalf of Slender Man, but let’s face it…these are all just tributes to The Blank from Dick Tracy, right?  I’m kidding, I’m kidding.  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that two-parter, because the next episode is…well, not great, in my opinion.  I don’t want to color your perception too much, but it’s one of the episodes I never really bother going back to, even with the Treasure Island reference.  Your mileage may vary.  However, once you make it through the third episode, you’ll have one of the best episodes of the entire series on deck!  For now, it’s time for me to get to my own recap, so let’s head to Miami!

Buttocks tight!

Episode written by Kathy Speer and Terry Grossman, directed by Terry Hughes

It’s a rainy day in Miami, and Dorothy, Blanche, and Rose are prepared to settle in at home and enjoy it.  Sophia, on the other hand, is headed out to the market to do what she does every single day: buy a nectarine.  The girls worry that Sophia doesn’t have enough to do at her age to keep her occupied.  Rose and Dorothy wonder if she needs a hobby, but Dorothy doesn’t think this is the answer.  At any rate, she is happy that her mother still has the ability to go out and do things independently.  And speaking of doing things, the girls decide to spend their day productively by tackling household projects.  Perhaps they will line the kitchen shelves?  But first, they set their sights on eating some cookies.  Priorities, people.

Sophia is at the market, getting pretty assertive about nectarines with the man in charge of produce.  A friend of hers, another older lady, strikes up a conversation about the difficulties she has been having with returning food to the grocery store, and Sophia takes it upon herself to intervene.  Pretending to be an attorney and the CEO of various organizations representing the interests of the elderly, Sophia manages to talk the manager into a refund for her friend (of more than $1) and a discount on her own nectarine.  Honestly, she operates like a total badass.  On to the next adventure!

Back at home, the girls haven’t left the kitchen and Blanche is in the midst of tales of past affairs and floppy-eared hunks; you know what they say about the size of a man with big, floppy ears, right?  The girls don’t feel like lining shelves anymore, and try to come up with a new idea.  Blanche wants to rent an adult video, drink mimosas, and make out with pillows (sounds like a fun day to me), but she is vetoed.  Everyone decides on rearranging the furniture instead.  Okay, but do we have to skip the mimosas?

We cut back to Sophia, who is now organizing a jazz band in the park to raise funds for the senior center.  It already seems that she has quite the routine worked out!  Move over, Count Basie...this band is seriously swingin’!  Estelle Getty pretends that she knows how to conduct music, and people start handing over money as quickly as possible.  Sophia is still far from finished though, and has some items left on her daily agenda.

Still in the kitchen, the other girls have just finished off a pizza, and now Blanche is feeling sleepy.  They are determined not to waste any more time, however, and therefore immediately get started on a new round of stories.  This includes the rousing tale of how Pigpen Johansen ruined Founder’s Day in St. Olaf, and it’s clear that this one is going to go on for a while…

Sophia now shows up at the hospital for some volunteer work.  She gives a cartload of flowers and balloons to a sad old lady (I wonder who will be missing out on their deliveries as a result), chats with a young boy in a wheelchair, and offers reassurance to the people waiting on hospital patients.  She has a lot of work ahead of her, but it seems like she’s in her comfort zone.

Back at home, Rose is still rambling, but the gals have baked a cake.  Dorothy ironically goes back to worrying about Sophia staying active, concerned that her mother may not have the desire to get out and do things.  We get another small story about her grandmother’s political ambitions, and the girls resolve once more not to waste the day entirely.  Hey, let’s go watch Jeopardy!

Sophia is still at the hospital, hanging out with the little boy in the wheelchair and attempting to cheer him up.  The boy has a terminal illness and seems to have lost all hope of survival, but Sophia gives him her nectarine and a pep talk, telling him that he can’t give up hope because we never know what the future holds.

We go back home for one last nighttime scene, with Dorothy, Blanche, and Rose hanging on the couch in their pajamas, having done nothing all day.  Sophia returns home, and when they ask about her day, she keeps her various exploits to herself and tells them that she did the same thing she does every day…bought a nectarine.

The End.

I thought the season premiere was good, but this episode was even better!  Even if I slightly prefer Old Friends overall, this episode may have been the best showcase for Sophia yet.  As much as she seems to exit stage left on a regular basis in other episodes, only to pop back in later for a punchline, it was nice to get a glimpse of some of her activities.  I’m a sucker for a good band, and I really through Estelle Getty nailed the scene in the grocery store.  I also appreciated the irony of the other girls worrying about Sophia’s activity level at her age, while they proceeded to spend their day doing nothing other than eating and chatting, and Sophia was out raising funds and spirits.  I liked the fact that she kept her activities to herself as well.  But even the conversations back home were on point.  It often seemed that we were about to drift into a flashback, but the girls would just keep talking and stick the landing.  I can’t praise this one enough.  I heartily give The Days and Nights of Sophia Petrillo a score of 5 poofy hairdos!

Check back in tomorrow when Jon will give us his take on The Curse of the Black Spot, the next episode of Doctor Who, and I’ll be back on Tuesday with a recap of The One That Got Away, the next episode of The Golden Girls.  Until then, as always, thank you for being a friend, and or being One of Us!