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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

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bright lights and baseless worries - q. hughes

When ya girl is finally on a monthlong break from school, she’s able to get in more than one piece a week. I knew I wanted to do some holiday piece for Quinn, and 100% got this idea in the shower the other day and just sat down and got to writing. In my totally unbiased opinion, it’s very cute, and I’d love to hear what you think - I love reading the tags on reblogs and having y’all in my inbox!

word count: 3.3k+

“Do you want to meet my parents?”

Your fork stopped halfway to your mouth, the spaghetti threatening to fall off the end. “Do I want to what?”

Quinn laughed, taking a sip of water as he sat across from you at his dining room table. “Do you want to meet my parents? They’re flying in after the next roadie, in a week and a half or so. They really want to meet you, but I get if you don’t want to, or you feel like it’s too soon. I’ll make up an excuse for you, say you were called into work for some big project or something that you can’t get away from.”

You weren’t sure if there was some unspoken protocol for when was too soon to meet your boyfriend’s parents, but you were pretty sure six months wasn’t pushing it. “Quinn, I’m still in university,” you said with a laugh. “There’s no work for me to get called into. And I’d love to meet them, if you’re sure that’s what you want. I don’t want you feeling like you have to because your parents want to meet me. I want it to be because you want it too.”

“Of course I want you to meet them,” he said, smiling softly at you. “Almost more than that, I want them to meet you. Sure, you’ve seen each other over FaceTime and they know what I’ve told them about you—”

“All good things, I hope?” You quipped.

The corner of his lips twitched. “Nothing but the best. But you’re incredible, and I want them to be able to meet you, so they get to see how amazing you are in person and don’t think I’m crazy any more for how much I talk about you, So there’s that.”

You ducked your head, tapping your fingers against the dark grain of the table. “Well, I’d love to meet them, Q. Anyone who’s spent any length of time around you knows how much you love your family, and I’m so excited to finally get to know the people who raised you into the incredible man you are today.”

Quinn blushed shyly. “It’s going to be great.”

---

Vancouver in December had always been one of your favorite things. Vancouver any time, really, but the holiday season really let your hometown shine something special. Literally. From the first of the month, all of downtown was decked out from tree to storefront to lamppost in yards of bright, sparkling lights. And then there was the massive, hundred-foot tall Christmas tree that lit up the square in front of the art gallery, throngs of couples and little kids running up to its branches in a bid to get their picture taken. It had finally started to snow a few weeks ago, so a light dusting covered the sidewalks, giving way to the shoe prints of the hundreds of passersby.

Downtown was where you found yourself now, wandering around on a Wednesday afternoon after you had been let out of your final, your purse on your shoulder and nothing but sheer worry in your heart. Quinn had come back from the road trip that morning; his parents were set to fly in tomorrow morning. His parents were set to fly in tomorrow morning, well under 24 hours away, and you had no clue what to get them. You had been in clothing stores, homegoods stores, souvenir shops, but were no closer to figuring out what to buy. You had been about to buy a nice bottle of wine, one of yours and Quinn’s favorites, but then you wondered if maybe it was weird to give wine at a first meeting, or if they’d look at you funny for gifting a bottle of pinot grigio when you were only 21. And it had to be something they could bring back on the plane, so nothing that was too fragile or something that might spill or anything with over 3.4 ounces of liquid. You should have thought about that before considering the wine.

You had texted your roommates in a panic, but letting them know that i’m meeting quinn’s parents tomorrow and I have no idea what the FUCK to get them please help hadn’t yielded any particularly useful suggestions. Aliya had suggested a tie for his dad, which Sara had vetoed immediately, saying that a tie was both far too formal and far too strange a gift to extend. Sara, who was the apartment’s resident caffeine addict, had recommended a few of her recent favorite types of “artisan, hand-roasted coffee.” It had seemed like a good idea at first, with everyone and their mother getting into craft versions of every drink imaginable, but then you started overthinking it, thinking that maybe they wouldn’t like the roast, or the undertones, or it would be too bitter and they’d drink it and hate it and then they’d hate you and —

You huffed, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes and leaning up against the column of some storefront you had spent less than five minutes in. Quinn chose that exact moment to call, and his timing couldn’t have been any more welcome. “God, I’m such a mess right now,” you said by way of greeting.

“Everything good?” He asked lightly, but you could hear the concern laced under his voice.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding, “but I’ve been to at least a half-dozen stores in downtown and I’m starting to get worried because I still have absolutely no clue what to get your parents tomorrow and nobody seems to have any good ideas.”

“You realize you don’t have to get them anything, right?” Quinn asked. “Seriously, they’re not expecting it, and I promise they won’t think any less of you if you don’t.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Q, my mom’s going to skin me alive if she heard I showed up empty-handed to meet your parents, but that’s besides the point. I want to make a good impression.” Your voice cracked. “I really want to make a good impression.”

He sighed on the other end of the line. “I know you do, babe, but I guarantee that no matter if you buy my dad a Rolex or show up in your pyjamas, they’re going to love you.”

“But how do you know that?”

“They’ll love you because I love you.” He spent a few more minutes on the phone with you, trying his damndest to reassure you that Jim and Ellen weren’t nearly as scary as you somehow thought they were, that they’d welcome you with open hearts and open arms just like his brothers had. The Devils had played in Vancouver the month prior, and much to Quinn’s delight, you and Jack had gotten along like a house on fire. Jack had made good on a promise he had made while he was in British Columbia, sending you a cache of Quinn’s baby photos as soon as he got back to his apartment in New Jersey.

You slid your phone back into your pocket after ending the call, feeling marginally more reassured that his parents wouldn’t immediately demand you break up with their son if you didn’t spend the equivalent of a year’s tuition on welcome gifts for them, but nervous nonetheless and no closer to your goal than when you drove into downtown hours before.

---

You tapped your heel nervously on the floor of Quinn’s living room, fingers nervously twisting your rings around as Quinn leaned up against the couch, glancing between you and his phone. “Mom says they’re almost here.” Quinn would have picked them up from the airport himself, but he had had a morning practice, and then they decided to get settled into their hotel room, so them coming over to his apartment before you were all set to go out to dinner was the first time either of you were going to see them. He looked at you, your brow still furrowed from overthinking. “I know you’re still worried, and I get that, babe. I was terrified when I met your parents for the first time. But you’re going to do amazing.” Your parents lived in Surrey, forty minutes away in the same house you’d grown up in, so it was a much less formal affair when they had asked to meet Quinn. You went over to their house for brunch one weekend, and that was it; Quinn was right, though. That hadn’t meant he was any less nervous. If anything, it only amplified his worries because if he wasn’t able to make a good first impression in one of the most low-stress environments a person could think of, what would that say about him? What would your parents think? But just like he said, it had been such a non-issue that by the end, he was wondering what he had been worried about in the first place.

“I know it’ll be fine,” you conceded, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “It just seems different, somehow. Like, I’ve met people’s parents before, friends and exes and people at school, and of course I wanted them to like me. I think it’s just…” You paused, looking up at the ceiling and trying to gather your words, “I think it’s because I see this, us, going somewhere. I see it lasting. So if you’re going to be in my life for the foreseeable future, then so are they, so it just seems that much more important that I like them and that they like me.”

Quinn bent over, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Don’t worry.” The doorbell rung, and you took the thirty seconds it took for Quinn to go over and open it to turn your phone on, checking in the camera to make sure you didn’t have a piece of kale stuck in your teeth. You didn’t, but you really should have known better. Quinn would have told you.

You stood up, plastering a smile on your face as he pulled the door open and his parents stepped into the entryway. His dad had just hugged him when his mom pulled him in, rubbing his back as she greeted him. “So good to see you, Quinn, Chag sameach.”

“Chag sameach, Mom,” Quinn said back, before stepping back and nodding to you. You stepped forward hesitantly, Quinn’s warm hand on the small of your back quelling your fears as much as he could.

He had barely opened his mouth to introduce you before his mom burst forward. “Is this her?”

You relaxed slightly, nodding. “In the flesh. So nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Weinberg-Hughes.”

She waved you off. “Ellen, seriously. Don’t worry about it. It’s so nice to finally get to see you in person!” She pulled you into a hug that looked just as heartfelt as the one she had given her son, and it only took a few seconds for you to relax into her touch.

“Jim,” his dad greeted you with a warm handshake.

You turned back towards the coffee table. “I, uh, got these for you two when I was downtown the other day.” You handed his mom a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and his dad a potted succulent, something you originally hadn’t been too sure about but Quinn had assured you his dad would love. “It’s got a travel-safe box that came with it, so it’ll be good to go on the plane ride back,” you said.

His dad smiled. “Quinn told you I’m not much of a green thumb, hm?” Quinn’s eyes widened; his dad laughed. “It’s true, I love plants but I seem to somehow kill everything I touch, so this really is a wonderful gift. Thank you.”

“Did you light the candles yet?” His mom asked.

Quinn shook his head, nodding to where his menorah sat on the sideboard. “I wanted to wait for you.” If his mom was going to be there for the first night of Hanukkah, he was going to wait for her if he valued his own well-being. The candles were already in a box off to the side; Ellen opened them and placed first the shamash, then the first candle all the way to the right as Quinn went into the kitchen for a lighter, coming out a second later. You made to move out of the room, unsure if it was disrespectful to stay. You got your answer quickly.

“Stay,” Quinn said. “I’d like it if you stayed.”

“It’s part of the tradition that the whole family — whoever’s around, obviously, stays for the lighting. That’s you, now,” Ellen explained. Your cheeks burned, but not out of embarrassment. Out of the fact that Quinn had been exactly right, just like you knew he would be, just like he had told you he would be. His parents welcomed you quicker than your own best friend’s had, and five minutes after meeting them in person for the first time his mom had already all but called you family. You were giddy inside. You perched on the couch as she and Quinn recited the Hebrew blessings, a soft smile on your face as you watched the interaction. You knew your boyfriend loved his mom. That much was clear, from the times you were both on FaceTime to the phone conversations you overheard to the way that he spoke about her with Brock, or Elias, or really anyone who would listen. But it was something special.

You gathered in the living room after the menorah was lit, your heels abandoned by the door and your body curled into Quinn’s as the four of you waited for the candles to burn down. Ellen and Jim supplemented Jack’s childhood stories of Quinn with some of their own, one of which had your boyfriend groaning into your shoulder, asking his dad if you really needed to know that story in particular. Jim just laughed, clapping his son on the back, telling him that the embarrassing anecdotes were really a litmus test of sorts. “If she doesn’t run after hearing this one, you’ll know that she’s a keeper,” he said while winking at you. You stayed.

You had a 6:30 reservation at a restaurant downtown, some place one of the other guys’ girlfriends had recommended when you sent a message in the group chat earlier asking where to take Quinn’s parents because I def don’t want to seem pretentious but like they also need to know that I have taste. He drove with his dad in the passenger’s seat, leaving you and his mom to share the second row. “Have you ever seen his freshman year roster photo from Michigan?” she asked, pulling out her phone.

Quinn groaned from the driver’s seat. “Mom, do you really need to show her?”

“You’re so young, it’s cute!” Ellen protested.

“I was 17 and didn’t know how to do my hair yet and was so nervous for the photographer to take it that my smile looks like it was frozen onto my face.”

You ducked your head, poorly concealing a snort of laughter. “Okay, if it’s half as good as Quinn makes it seem, I’ve got to see this one.” Ellen handed her phone to you just as Quinn pulled into the parking lot; you handed it back a minute later, the grin on your face still evident as he parked the car, walking around to your side to open your door.

Picture didn’t scare you off?” he asked jokingly.

You stood up quickly, pressing a brief kiss against his cheek. “Not at all.”

The food was incredible, not like you had expected any less. The salmon was maybe the best you had ever had, and the crème brûlée you and Quinn shared was nothing short of spectacular. You had left the last bite for him, knowing how much he loved the dessert, but he shook his head with a small smile, gently pushing the bowl back to you. The gesture hadn’t been missed by his mom, who had poorly concealed her happiness at her son’s kindness. You headed back to Quinn’s apartment after a walk by the harbor with his parents, a little after nine. “We got you two a little something,” his dad said as his mom reached into her purse.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you said quickly as Ellen pulled out a small, flat wrapped package.

“It’s nothing big,” she promised. “Just something we thought would look nice in here,” she gestured around the living room with her spare hand., holding it out to you. “Happy Hanukkah.”

Your face burst into a grin as Quinn looked over at the photo, his thumb moving absentmindedly over your shoulder. “Happy Hanukkah, Ellen.” You ran your thumb carefully under the seams, popping open the paper with as much precision as the moment was affording you. You unfolded it, looking up at your boyfriend. “Hang on. Is this…?”

He nodded. “I think so.” You were looking down at a picture, set in a silver frame that shone so much you could see your reflection. But it wasn’t a normal picture, one that you’d throw up on your Instagram story or delete from your camera roll without a second thought. It was from that September, a few months after you and Quinn had started dating and the first time he had taken you to meet the boys. You had already met Brock and Elias a few weeks earlier when they came back into town for training, but it was the first night he had really let you into his life in that way, started to take down some of his walls and trust you with every part of himself. You had been curled up with Quinn on a couch in Brock’s living room, towards the end of a party he had thrown to welcome everyone to the start of a new season. You didn’t even remember what Quinn was talking about, but as you looked down at the photo, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist and your head resting on his chest, you realized that it could have been Poptarts or Disney movies or the deepest darkest secrets from the furthest parts of your soul, because it was you, and it was him, and that’s all that mattered. You didn’t even realize you had started to tear up until Quinn handed you a tissue. “Thanks,” you mumbled. You looked back up at his parents, crumbling it in your hand. “Seriously, Jim, Ellen, thank you for this. I don’t know why I’m reacting like this, but thank you for getting it. It means a lot.”

His dad gave you a hug as his mom moved over to Quinn’s kitchen, plucking her bouquet out of a vase and walking back over to hug first her son, then you. “Don’t worry about it. If you’re half the woman Quinn says you are, and I think you’re more, then you deserve the world.”

Your cheeks heated as they walked through the front door. Quinn gently took the picture from you, admiring it as he padded over to the sideboard and placed it next to the menorah, whose candles had long since burnt down. He walked back over towards you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He pulled back, a wry smile on his face as your foreheads pressed together. “Do you finally believe me?”

He didn’t even have to explain his words, because you knew. Finally believe him that you didn’t have anything to worry about, finally believe him that his parents would love you, finally believe him that thing you had going on wasn’t one he wanted to give up on. Not now, not ever. Your head nodded before your words could catch up to you, spilling out of your mouth like they had always been there. “Yes.”

#hockey imagines #quinn hughes #hockey writing #hockey imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl

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tottymatsuno · 3 years ago

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In The Peach Pit; Saw You Fake It

Author: Roro (tottytown)

Fandom: Osomatsu-san

Pairing: Todomatsu x Reader

Category: Romance, enemies to friends to lovers, coworkers, fake dating

Rating: mature (eventually)

Summary: You hate this guy! First you go on the world's shittiest date, and now he's your coworker?!

Word Count: 3209/26k+ (unfinished, in the process of editing now will most likely be an additional 15k when finished)

Warnings: He's mean? Past trauma in later chapters from a previous abusive relationship.

Commentary: One of the few fics I take the time to establish a brand new relationship instead of throwing you in cold. Y/N-chan is autistic and punk, but respectfully so imo. I'm using a huge amount of my own personal experiences and feelings. I didn't intend for her to be autistic initially but it kinda just happened. As always I write for black girls!

BLMATSU DNI

"Hey, love your style! 💞😍"

You look down at the opening message, ah this Totty guy has a sort of cute aesthetic, you think in agreement. Like a preppy but approachable dorky vibe based off of his profile picture. You think this must be from the My Melody stickers. With a sweet wink and a smile, you don’t even notice the placement of his peace sign near his lips. If you had, maybe you would've swiped left, but Totty’s face seemed so innocent and adorable you didn’t see it.

You're kinda interested in the whole opposites attract theory too. He looks like your preferred type, but unfortunately adorably bubbly boys never want to actually go out with you. Something about you being either too emotionless or too scary. It's their loss though, but you're a bit happy one guy like that seems to have an interest in you enough to initiate contact.

It takes a little bit for your break to arrive so you can respond. After ordering your lunch and latte - the order that always gets a comment from Ryo about not really fitting your vibe since it's not black coffee or something. You always get a good laugh out of requesting the most ridiculous thing you could think of everyday. Today's request is of a horrific caricature of a seagull stealing fries.

With lunch in hand you reply in the break room to get away from the slight afternoon rush and harsh lights of the store.

"Sup. 😎 I dig yours too, so do you like Sanrio stuff? 👀"

The reply is instant which is a surprise but a pleasant one.

"Yes ofc! 🥰 My absolute fave is My Melody, isn't she just the cutest? 😍 What's yours?"

You think about for a moment, who is your favorite? A little face pops in your mind.

"Konmi, she's a hard worker. 💪🏾 I really like all of the Kuromi 5 though 🧐, but if I had to pick it'd be Konmi."

There's a gap in between the replies which doesn't bother you too much. Totty or whatever is probably busy too since it's the middle of the day.

"Ah, that makes sense. I thought you seem more like a Kiki or Batz Maru fan. You might have been my fated person 💞 if Kuromi herself was your favorite.😘"

You snort a little before texting a quick reply of, "You might’ve been jumping the gun saying that tho."

The day follows on with that sort of half dry banter, Totty doesn't seem like a bad guy or anything. Just bland. That's okay though because not everyone's charms shine through in text. You get it, after all your dry sense of humor doesn’t really ring true through text either. You're willing to look past that since texting is always a bit awkward with strangers no matter what.

Plus you only want to try getting a boyfriend since the guy you're actually interested in seems to be content to string you along without a real rejection either way. There's two tickets intended as a date with your crush, Daisuke in the small homegoods section that are just burning a hole in your pocket. You felt silly inviting Daisuke to an event that you were only interested in without considering his feelings when he politely turned you down. Oh well though.

You invite Totty to the San-x event instead because it might be better to get to know someone new? You wouldn't mind going by yourself however but it really sucks standing out so much when you're alone. As much fun it is to flip people off and show your pierced tongue to anyone who whispers about you it gets tiring constantly having to ask if randos have ‘a fucking problem?!'

Being scary is hard work, don't get you wrong though! It feeds your ego that ripped skinny jeans, a little dark make up and a choker makes you terrifying; sometimes it'd just be nice to go on a normal date. After all you don’t even have any visible tattoos!

And the whole cigarette smoke filled punk bar isn't your scene now that you go through nicotine withdrawals. Plus getting black out drunk isn't good for the upward mobility at your job and self medicating with those two substances hasn’t ever gotten you anywhere.

Totty seems a bit too eager to meet up, you think over the following days approaching the event. Constant texts about how exciting it is to meet and other obvious bullshitting pleasantries.

He even asked to have a phone conversation with you, which you agreed to! Turns out the only time he had available to talk was a five minute window that got cut short.

“Good mornin-- Jyushimatsu-niisan! I’m on the phone!” followed by what sounded like the loud sound of splashing water.

The call ended before you could even say anything, but you did hear a shriek as it ended. You sat on pins and needles your entire break sending text messages to confirm the exact five minutes you could speak to him only for it to end so abruptly.

After a few hours, Totty sent multiple messages apologizing, and complimenting your voice he did not even get to hear. Seems really fake but once again you'll give him the benefit of the doubt because whatever happened on his end sounded overwhelming.

If you're just misreading it Totty's sincerity will actually be really adorable and sweet.

On the day of the event you dress to impress with all of your piercings in and cutest outfit. Oh, the sacred counsel of Teddy Bears had to be called out in order for you to determine the right amount of color for your outfit.

Black yes was a given, but since it’s a San-X event should you have gone neon or pastel? You went pastel in the end, with a small assortment of cutely cool colors that wouldn’t draw too much attention to themselves but would compliment your outfit otherwise. And of course your make up was carefully applied too.

You went with a dark lipstick instead of black, because you knew sometimes the whole 100% punk thing can be intimidating. But all in all you look great! After all today you could finally end up with a bubblegum boyfriend like you've always wanted!

Ah, this is a route you don’t go on very often isn’t it? You left your apartment extra early to board the train heading southbound.

You’ll need to make two transfers and then walk some but you aren’t familiar with this area in order to find the last short bus route where you agreed to take together.

You also aren’t great at following the phone map. As you walked you searched for your compass because you needed to go east from the train only to find you forgot it at home.

“Um, excuse me...Which way is east from here?” You quietly ask a nice middle aged woman, who blinks in response.

“Let me think, I believe you’re heading down the right way.” She points forward. You notice a glint of hesitation in her eyes, and are grateful she still helped you out even if she seems apprehensive to do so.

“Thank you so much for your help!” When you smile at her, she begins to stop you.

“Excuse me. Do you work at that bookstore not too far from here?”

That’s where it clicks!

“Oh, yes I do! I’m so sorry for not recognizing you, valued customer I have slight face blindness!” Which is true, if you don’t expect to see someone outside of a certain context you don’t even register who they are.

It’s happened so many times, and you have lost friends because of it. You sorta thought you recognized her voice, but now that you think about it this woman is a semi regular.

“Ah, it’s okay. I don’t mean to keep you but I heard there might be new event with housewives in mind, do you know when it will take place?”

She asks very sweetly. “Yes! We’re in the middle of preparing it now, so it’ll be happening in two weeks. It’s for our newly expanded Josei section! We’re trying to attract more women and girls to the store so in the event we’re going to take a survey and find out which new manga titles are the most highly anticipated! We’ll also have a demo for an upcoming joseimuke game by a popular studio! If those don’t interest you, there will be a sale on dramas and later on that day we will have a special surprise comedy guest!”

You excitedly tell her of this large event, you’re so happy she asked about it! You hand her a coupon booklet as well, “These will get you discounts too!” You chatted her ear off for a while, until she asks you, “Oh yes, are you heading east for that event down the road?” while looking at her watch.

“The San-X one? Yes, I am!” You answer diligently.

“The next bus is scheduled soon then, you should run along so you aren’t late!” You look at your phone and with a friendly wave good bye you haul ass so you aren’t late!

Which you weren’t! In fact you still arrived fairly early.

Totty isn’t here yet, so you decide to wait.

And you wait.

And wait. Two buses go by without you aboard.

You wait well past the agreed upon meetup time and just as you were going to head on by yourself, Totty finally shows up. You actually know he's approaching from a distance for multiple reasons you don't wanna get into just yet.

But you will say that Totty is a bit of a disappointment to be honest. It might not just be his outfit or anything but the fact he physically recoils when meeting you at the bus station is a real turn off.

"Heh...hehe...um, it's nice to finally meet you! I'm Todomatsu, but cute girls call me Totty." It was obviously a forced greeting, the guy was sweating and clearly trying not to run away.

"Same to you, Totty." Your reply is even because it might be just a shock to see someone dressed like you out of nowhere.

One look on his face tells you Totty actually seems a bit offended you called him by the nickname. Alright. Won't do that again. An unhealthy amount of silence takes place as you wait for the 3rd bus to pull over to allow boarding. Rudely Todomatsu cuts in front of you to pay first, but as you wait the polite distance you notice him struggling to get enough change for the fare. Uh, that’s weird. “Want me to handle that?”

You ask from over his shoulder while he counts his small amount of change. It’s definitely not enough fare. Todomatsu yelps at the sound of your voice and embarrassingly throws his change in the till.

The driver gives him a semi disgusted face and you totally get it while Todomatsu digs in all of his pockets with growing desperation. Finally you wordlessly pop the remaining coins in with your own fare.

The bus ride is very boring since Todomatsu barely responds to your attempts at small talk, plus his body language is totally uncomfortable and it's making you feel weird.

The ride is also shittier than a usual bad date because Todomatsu fucking stinks. Like not of body odor, but this cheap ass "my first body mist" found rattling inside the trashcan of a 3rd year middle school girl's room.

The smell of the overwhelming alcohol and whatever is supposed to make the 'sugar pink kiss pop' is popping you a major headache in the close quarters.

Eventually you get to the event. This is feeling like you’re pulling your teeth out to be honest, the absolutely awkward and silent treatment is killing you! Once standing in line Todomatsu finally begins to warm up to you a bit, and by warm up you mean he starts "charming" you with PUA tactics.

"Aren't you hot in all of that black? I couldn't wear all of that, I'm getting hot just looking at you. Do you want me to get you a drink? You can pay me back later." Todomatsu's smile at this point is a fraction less strained but still incredibly manufactured. You can tell he felt cringy winking and the second hand embarrassment is gross.

"With what money? Besides I'm not hot. I was wondering if I should get you something instead since you’re so broke and I can see your pit stains. You probably need some water after sweating so much."

Todomatsu doesn't appreciate your comment, the second you turn away to look at your placement in line you swear catch a glimpse of something demonic.

"Soo, which one are you going to take the picture with?" Todomatsu asks with a pinned on grimace-smile. While his tone was casual and even you could tell he wasn’t enjoying this date. You literally haven’t even done anything wrong or weird, which makes you angry because this fucked up aura is on him.

"Rilakkuma. I'm gonna hug that big cuddly sonvabitch until his lil button eyes go pop." You wiggle your hugging fingers in a silly way in anticipation for the bear hugging to lighten the mood.

Todomatsu laughs nervously, "We might get kicked out if you hug that hard..."

"Oh! Maybe they'll just let me unzip his costume and reveal his true form? Isn't it time the people know who's in there?" You know that Rilakkuma is being acted by the person wearing the costume... But maybe there's a hint to Rilakkuma's comic book true identity. Like the actor wearing a little shirt with a clue?

"A man. A very sweaty man who isn't paid is enough to be here is inside of that costume." Todomatsu is sorta a buzz kill, huh?

"Could be an even smaller bear though, maybe a little AI thingy? I've heard those guys are hanging around nowadays."

You're just trying to shoot the breeze at this point, but you can feel your chill cool girl image cracking. You start glaring at the massive line ahead, this isn't really what you expected. Todomatsu seems to catch onto your new forming negative energy too.

The sun glaring into your light sensitive eyes also has a negative effect on your growing bad mood. Usually you enjoy the slight strain when you get to see the big blue sky, but today it isn’t working. Nor is the feeling of the sun on your skin making you feel better, instead you just feel muggy and uncomfortable.

"Yeah. AI. Those are around I guess..." Todomatsu begins leaning over every few minutes to frantically text someone until you glance at him. This scares him further for literally no reason. You barely even looked at him!

You must look hella annoyed at this point, but you say nothing. Not until it's your turn to take a picture with Rilakkuma, which more than brightens your mood immediately.

You were nearly bouncing off of the heels of your platforms the closer you got to Rilakkuma. Yeah, there's other little mascots but Rilakkuma is the original and the most popular for a reason! He's soo cute!! As you hug the little teddy bear you couldn't help but squeal in delight that you loved him!

You feel the shoujo sparkles everywhere, and the weight lifted from your poor heart makes you feel light and airy! When your picture was snapped, you floated off giggling to yourself on a cloud of hopes and dreams.

When you receive the snapshot you nearly twirl when hugging it close to your heart. You look back at Rilakkuma who gives a slight wave in your direction which makes you even happier! The sunshine never felt so sweet before.

“I love you, Rilakkuma! See you again later!” You wave back overly ecstatic.

"So you can make expressions like that too?" Oh. Yeah. Your date.

Like your aforementioned hopes and dreams shattering at once by a voice that honestly should be attached to an idol instead of this dickhead.

"Yeah, with the right motivation." You look at your printed picture but feel like the happiness from it has been stolen a little.

"You should smile more, you'd look way less scary. I had no idea there was such a cute face under all of that edgy doom and gloom." Yeah, Todomatsu is an asshole. This isn't gonna work out at all.

You don't bother to look up from your picture yet as Todomatsu berates you in efforts to smile more. After a few seconds of debate you decide to pull the plug on whatever the hell this was.

"Yeah, not feeling this anymore so I'm gonna go alone from here. Bye." You tuck the picture in a little keepsafe holder before turning to leave.

Todomatsu audibly gasps, even stamping his feet so childishly. "Have fun kissing a metal detector instead of a guy, you weirdo! I only stayed this long because I felt bad for you anyways!"

“You messaged me first.” You tell him quietly with gritted teeth, feeling so much more than offended.

“I swipe right on every girl, and send that line to everyone who matches with me! You weren’t special! Do you know how lucky you are that I even came out here to meet with you?! You look like a vampire! It’s scary!”

You won't let him get away with insulting you after giving his ass the benefit of the doubt multiple times.

The fury bubbles up in your throat until it boils over. But. Instead of cursing or screaming at Todomatsu you pin point in that exact moment how to render him to devastation.

With a calm voice you tell him, "I wonder if anyone would actually ever like the real you, and not the artificial dollar store signature scent version of it. Probably not, you seem nauseating either way."

After finally walking away for good you're consumed with thoughts. Shit, you should've said 'instead of pretending to stomach your artificial dollar store signature scent ass' or something! Aw fuck it would have been great to let him know you were legit going to throw up next to him on the bus too.

You think about these things going around the event, of course your mind takes breaks from new insults when you buy one of every Jinbeisan merch for sale. You stock up on other various cuties, take more pictures and just generally have a great rest of the day on your own. You even got ice cream!

Eating alone at a bench is a bit lonely, you would have much preferred your date to work out if you're honest... But you'd rather be alone than ignore hot pink flags. You're not desperate enough to go out with that guy.

You had to buy totes to carry all of the lil things you bought and it cost you all of your fun money for the month, but it was so worth it. You'll probably deck out your phone tonight and maybe put all of the new stickers onto anything you could get your hands on. Whatever this uncomfortable feeling is will pass, and you'll forget all about it.

#todomatsu x reader #matsuno todomatsu x reader #totty x reader #osomatsu san #todomatsu matsuno x reader #todomatsu x si #Todomatsu #Why were the spaces weird...#I h8 tumblr 😭#HOW COULD I FORGET THERES FAKE DATING IN THIS...#I'm back to reformat this since it got fucked in uploading it #Roros fics #peachpit fic #ppfic c1

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stitchlesswitch · 4 years ago

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Crystal Shopping 101

As a bitch whos bought way too many fucking crystals I have a lot of opinions on the CORRECT way to sell them in physical stores so let’s get started

The only correct way to sell crystals in physical stores is:

Provide small baskets/trays so I don’t have to carry them in my hand.

Have them in bowls (separated by type obviously) on a large flat surface tall enough so that I don’t have to constantly crouch forward

Stop putting them on the goddamn floor bitch my knees

Stopping putting goddamn price stickers on them I don’t want to scrape that shit off my crystals

Each tray should have like a hundred tiny pieces of square paper that have the following information:

Name of crystal

Spiritual meaning of crystal

Price (a price range if necessary)

This way, I take a paper with each crystal I plan to buy, and none of us have to ask um, what’s this? How much is this? I fucking hate that. It’s your store. It looks unprofessional and unprepared if you’re like uhhhh idk the name and price of the crystal ur buying hold on

Fucking itemize our receipts bitch If I’m gonna spend $100 I want a list of each type of crystal I bought

My favorite ways to purchase crystals (In order from greatest to least)

Gem shows: highest quality, best price, you find extremely rare pieces you can’t get elsewhere, you cut out the middle man, you get to leave with your crystals, knowledgable salespeople, havent personally witnessed them price gouging—they know the market value of what they’re selling.

Etsy. ThrowinStones is a personal favorite, I’ll look through my Etsy and Instagram and eventually compile a list of all my favorite Etsy stores. I avoid all the pains of physical shopping (carrying, stickers, not knowing item/price, bending over, etc). Help out a small business. You can compare quality and price, use reviews to know what you’re in for. It’s honestly touching when I find shops you can tell put their heart and soul into their work.

Physical crystal shops. Great atmosphere and experience, especially if you come across a crystal shop while traveling and you can associate it with that place. However I’ve seen a lot of physical store owners over price their crystals. I wouldn’t recommend this route if you’re getting started, you’ll end up paying more than is necessary. Wait till you become familiar with market value so you know if you’re getting ripped off or not. Follow crystal sellers on Instagram and it’ll happen quicker than you think.

All equally tied; great places, all very good:

Homegoods. I’ve seen them sell amethyst geodes, agate bookends, large quartz clusters. I’ve even got large chunks of calcite and flourite from them. I’ve gotten all of my largest pieces from them honestly for an average of around ~$15-~$20. Because they’re not in the crystal business they tend to sell them for less than youd see on the crystal market.

Consignment shops/antique stores/thrift stores. If you’re a collector, never turn down an opportunity to look in these stores, you’ll never know what you’ll find. And I can gurantee you they’re selling it for significantly less than it’s worth. It helps that half the time they can’t even name the type of crystal it is.

Gift shops for state/federal parks/reserves. Again, they’re not in the crystal game, so I’ve been able to get extremely high quality quartz for two dollars that the crystal market would have absolutely inflated the price. Highly recommend for beginners and people who travel for hiking. Don’t ever overpay for quartz it’s just not necessary.

Websites. I’ve came across websites that don’t have Etsys that I really like, though they tend to be more expensive. One good example is Uncommon Rocks. I’ll make a list later. Not a bad way to shop, just pricier than Etsy typically.

I’ve heard great things about:

Sedona, Arizona. Apparently crystal mother land. Never been, but it’s to crystal collectors as vegas is to gamblers.

Tucson Gem Show in Arizona. This is where the sellers go to get their supplies. Days long, miles long event. Hardcore. Not for amateur or novice. If people tell you they buy/go there know that they mean fuckin business.

Ways I would NEVER recommend shopping for crystals:

Instagram live sales. That’s some rich people shit and I fucking hate it. Let me sit here for hours while you go through hundred of items individually one by one waiting to get to the one I want just so I can lose out because my internet lagged. High quality but frankly over priced imo. I leave that shit for the bougie collectors.

Amazon. Never bought a crystal from there, never will. Etsy always beats it.

Wish. It’s tempting, I know, but just trust me. DONT.

Ebay. Eh, I’ve made purchases here for some carvings that are mass produced from China but it’s just not my favorite way to shop.

Someone remind me to reblog this with lists of my favorite Etsy/online sellers please

#crystal #crystals #crystal witch #crystal collection #crystal collector #crystal shopping

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blondeandtoothy · 4 years ago

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Today I’m 23. 🧁✨ I officially feel “old”er. On most birthdays I usually don’t feel a difference, but this year is different. I do feel the change of turning another year older. Maybe it’s the fact that I am getting close to being in my “mid-twenties” instead of my “early-twenties.” Maybe it’s the fact that I prefer even numbers over odd ones, and 23 is an odd number. Well whatever the reason is, I don’t mind it. I appreciate the fact that I am older because well, I have grown so much in my 20’s! So in light of my birthday, I wanted to write a post of 23 facts about me. 1. I have played piano since I was 5 years old. 2. I take three spoons of sugar in a cup of tea. 3. I always drink tea and eat a fruit before an exam. 4. I have very good vision 5. I’m not the best driver, and I drive pretty slow. 6. I’m always one of the first to finish in the lab 7. I have trouble reading books because I am a slow reader, and don’t process information easily. 8. I write backwards with the same ease and neatness as writing forwards. 9. I speak 4 languages (guess which)! 10. I have really bad seasonal allergies 11. I absolutely love soups. Any type of soup (or khoresht) 12. I am a taurus, and I do act like one. 13. I live for organizing stuff. 14. I have an unhealthy obsession with Marshalls and homegoods for home decor. 15. I have a paralyzing fear of needles, blood and veins. But for some reason, not when its located in the mouth. 16. My hair is naturally brown, but being blonde was the staple of my teenage years and I kaifed (enjoyed) every second of it. 17. I always order a sprite when I’m out because its my happy juice 18. My go-to comfort-binge TV show is Grey’s anatomy 19. I hated cheese until I met my pizza chef husband 20. A bird always poops on my car on my birthday and I believe its good luck! 21. I don’t appreciate sarcasm because I don’t understand it 22. When I’m annoyed by my husband, I can’t look him in the face because otherwise I’ll die laughing. (And I always do..) 23. My name is PAULINA https://www.instagram.com/p/COdx3eiDqjB/?igshid=qwxzkt2gdqdm

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novathesheltie · 4 years ago

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So it's been like a 1-2 months since Nova's neuter and here what I've noticed in terms of his reactivity. When he gets spooked by dogs, or when I'm not actively working w him on being calm etc., his reaction is a lot more aggressive. Like pretty aggressive. He's lunging, teeth out, snarling, aggressive. Before he would boof and bark, maybe pull on the leash, but overall nothing quite like what he's been demonstrating lately. I thought at first it was a fluke, or that we had encountered just *the wrong dog*, or something along those lines. But it's like, straight up aggression. Not to all dogs, but to enough dogs that it's slightly worrying tbh.

Today, in prep for his 2nd birthday tomorrow, we went to tj maxx, homegoods, and petco to get some birthday toys. Petco was probably not the best idea, but what's done is done lmfao. We saw a doodle there who was quite excited and barked at Nova, but we were able to keep our cool and while Nova reacted, it wasn't...aggression. It was the typical oo there's a dog there! borkbork. But then we saw a puppy weimaraner and Nova literally thought he was the devil on Earth. We were sitting in the aisle while Laska tried rainjackets, and the puppy walked in our way. And that's a hate crime apparently in Nova's book. So I left and walked around the store, avoiding the pup but also letting Nova watch him from afar. Everytime he turned to him, that exact split second I rewarded w hotdog. When Laska was done touring the store for xyz, Nova did not react to pup anymore. He barked back at two new dogs that came in for a grooming appt, but no aggression like he had shown w the weim pup.

It's disappointing. I got some advice from a dog trainer but they were mostly unhelpful and instead triggered Nova. So I'm kinda just, trying what works for Nova. Catching and rewarding calmness. Dog coming our way = Reward. Being calm seeing a dog = reward. Being calm while a dog walks by = the fattest hotdog reward. Overall a lot of watching and R+. But I need to work somehow on the spooking. He gets easily spooked and his reaction is to borkbork and it, as seen here, gets a lot worse when a dog spooks him. I have no clue how to do that lmfao other than perhaps exposing him and desensitizing him to a bunch of shit that spooks him. But like, how does one teach a dog to not spook at a person walking down the stairs of your own apartment complex? Yeah. Anyways. Nova turns 2 tomorrow.

#text #training #nova #this post is a mess but whatev #i need to write it down

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sleepykittypaws · 4 years ago

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The Christmas House

Original Air Date: November 23, 2020 (Hallmark) Where to Watch?: Hallmark will replay it multiple times this season, and for every season in perpetuity

It's impossible to review Hallmark's The Christmas House without noting that this time last year, then-Crown Media CEO Bill Abbott was personally taking phone calls from a SPLC-designated hate group, and pulling a Zola ad showing two brides chastely kissing from his network, at that hate group's behest. The ensuing firestorm of well-earned criticism following Abbott's bad judgement, is, without question, what brought us to today, with Abbott ousted, a woman of color, Wonya Lucas, now at Hallmark's helm, and a still totally G-rated holiday lineup that now regularly features former Hallmark no-gos like, interracial romance and LGBTQ+ inclusion, improving Hallmark's abysmal diversity record, one movie at a time.

So, even though Hallmark had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century, it's still hard not to be at least a little emotional that they're finally joining us here. The bigots are still having online temper tantrums about losing their all-white, all-straight safe space, but Hallmark's holiday ratings are up 7% year-over-year—a significant jump in a world where cable subscriptions are declining by 10-15% annually.

Now, what that progress looks like on a network known for being “clean,” conservative and about as unwilling to take risks as any channel on the planet, is another story. Frequent Hallmark star, and out gay actor, Jonathan Bennett, has been tirelessly talking about The Christmas House, since the day it went into production. And Bennett brings a lot of energy to this ensemble story, written by co-star Robert Buckley, of a family getting together to decorate their home one more time before it's sold.

Buckley and Bennett play the sons of Sharon Lawrence and Treat Williams, a recently retired couple struggling with that fundamental shift in their relationship. Buckley is the star of a ridiculous court show, Handsome Justice, of which we luckily get to see a clip, and Bennett, a baker, and his husband, played by Brad Harder, are waiting to hear about an adoption, after several previous disappointments.

Bennett and Buckley bring more humor than is normal for Hallmark to their portrayal of loving, competitive brothers, who clearly enjoy ribbing each other.

How conservative was past hallmark, you ask? Well, that Buckley's girl-next-door love interest is divorced, not widowed, is still a somewhat shocking twist in that world, as is the fact that both Buckley and Bennett are "allowed" to sport some facial scruff, rather than be clean shaven. Oh, and that the family next door is (gasp) Latino, is also something we likely wouldn't have seen in the Hallmark of yore. All of which is just mind-blowing, since those “days of yore” for this TV network were [checks notes]…2019, not 1968.

Lawrence and Williams are believable as a long term couple, and their life-change struggle to re-center their relationship feels real, but the way it's revealed is almost as anti-climactic as its resolution. The movie laid very unsubtle hints along the way—all storytelling progress aside, Hallmark movies are still written so you can half watch and not a miss a thing, allowing folks to join 20 minutes in, or do the dishes and come back without being confused—that Williams and Lawrence's wanting to have "one last Christmas" was about more than just downsizing in retirement.

When Lawrence told the story of the clearly-actually-brand-new-and-from-Homegoods Santa pot, and what it meant to her, I thought Williams was going to later accidentally break Checkov's sentimental teapot and, in her anger, Lawrence would blurt out something about that's why they were separating, shocking their grown sons.

And, honestly, as predictable as that would have been, it would probably have had more impact than what did happen…Lawrence just casually telling Buckley while stringing lights, and then nobody really mentioning it again, excepting oblique references during a single conversation between the brothers, and then Lawrence just announces at breakfast that they're not doing that after all.

Definitely feels like Hallmark's aversion to conflict in its stories is one of those provisions that is still firmly in place. (We saw a similar unwillingness to commit to actual marital difficulties, despite that being the central plot point, in Cranberry Christmas.)

Which is too bad, because Lawrence and Williams being much better than the actors usually used for these parent roles, could have handled a more realistic story well, and brought some real emotional beats to the movie.

As expected, Buckley's romance with Ana Ayora was the definite A-plot here, but why did their memory lane rekindling catalyst have to be close-up magic, the worst of all entertainment options? Was there no mime troop they could have been teenage members of? When it comes to magic, and jazz, I'm like Indiana Jones and snakes…Why'd it have to be magic?

Also, no way that 29-year-old guy they have playing "teenage" Mike grows up to be Robert Buckley. Nope! They definitely had to soft focus all the mostly unnecessary flashback scenes so that those actors, easily less than a decade younger than our leads, didn't quite look their age.

And, c'mon, Buckley, who, again, is the star of his own TV show, gives the love of his life a necklace he bought…in high school? For real? I'm surprised we couldn't see her neck turn green in real time. At least get a gal a little upgrade. Sheesh!

The whole rival real estate agent thing went nowhere. And what was that subplot even supposed to be about? Would have much rather seen a scene from the Handsome Justice episode where Buckley's character defended a dog accused of murder, than that whole waste of time.

On the other hand, loved the Grift body spray mentions, and so glad we go to see that ad. Hallmark doesn't do subtle—"But will they get it?" is basically the network's motto—but this is one case of subtext just being text that worked.

Oh and, how did his parents buy a house on the Hudson river just by selling a nice, but fairly average, suburban home? Sure, they said it was a fixer upper, but anything on the water is gonna be way more pricey than where they were, and you've still got to have the cash to do the fixing. Also, you know the old adage about how nothing soothes a struggling marriage like a whole house renovation project, amirite?

Speaking of money…Why didn't Buckley just buy his folks the house right away if he didn't want to see it go? I mean, even if he's only a mid-level TV star, this wasn't some extravegent manse, and certainly wouldn't be an unusual thing for a well-off child to do for their middle-class parents. Why all the rigamarole with the weird guy and the rescinded offer? And, like, what was that all about? So many stories I'd have rather seen from this talented cast than some of the filler we actually got.

Harder didn't get nearly enough to do, but he and Bennett had decent chemistry and they got most of the best lines. The joke about "Will we decorate like this for our kids," and Bennett's emphatic, "No," cut the tension of an emotional scene well, with perfect timing, making it actually, laugh out loud funny—a Hallmark rarity. And when Harder appears in doorway after hearing from the adoption agency, and Bennett knows just by looking at his face what the call said, I got emotional.

That all the couples in this one got to kiss, including Bennett and Harder, is important. With the specter of last year's Zola debacle absolutely lingering over the entire movie, it's hard to think of a better, actual example of #LoveWins, than that moment.

I also teared up when we saw Bennett and Harder's family at the end, not only because it was a long overdue Hallmark milestone, but also because Harder's real-life son, Kael, played he and Bennett's on-screen adopted child, and is just so stinking cute.

Am I giving this bonus points for finally having an LGBTQ+ storyline, even if it was pretty far from the foreground? For sure. But Buckley and Bennett also brought humor and heart to this one, of a variety not usually found on Hallmark, and Lawrence and Williams also upped the ante on the quality here. Notable that Hallmark also sprung for two actual, name-brand holiday songs, so they were willing to spend a little bit of extra cash on this effort, which says more about their “commitment to diversity” than years of empty promises ever did.

Would have liked House even more, if Hallmark had been brave enough to swap the storylines; Bennett falling in love the boy next door, and Buckley and his bride waiting to hear about adoption, but barring that, do wish it had been bit more of a true ensemble (i.e. all three love stories had equal weight).

Despite quibbles, I'm still putting this on top of the 2020 Hallmark heap, at least for the moment, because I laughed, I cried and I felt good about the progress that has been made, no matter how long overdue it is.

As I've said so many times, representation really does matter, particularly on a channel like Hallmark, which caters to exactly the audience that most needs to see LGBTQ+ people laughing, living and loving, just like every other family.

Representation really can change lives. It opens hearts and minds. It can help those struggling within themselves feel seen and worthy. Really can not underestimate how transformative these normalizing glimpses can be, particularly for a network like Hallmark, with a large "conservative" audience.

"Conservative" is in quotes, because there's nothing genuinely conservative about human rights, and respect for those unlike you. Empathy and acceptance for others should be a baseline standard for living in a society—not a political statement.

No one has the right to deny someone else's humanity, and someone's choice to hold hate in their heart deserves no respect from Hallmark, or society at large. Really hopeful that some kid out there who feels excluded and awful about themself because their family and upbringing has told them everything they're feeling is wrong and sinful, can now see representation like this on their family's safe space TV channel, and know it's going to be OK.

It's a small step, but it's definitely a good one, and I'm really looking forward to the actual lead LGBTQ+ holiday romances coming soon, like Hulu's Happiest Season (Nov. 25), Lifetime's The Christmas Setup (Dec. 12) and Paramount Network's Dashing in December (Dec. 13), and hoping Hallmark joins that club in 2021.

Until then…

Final Judgement: 3 Paws Up

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trethepoet · 4 years ago

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Contrary to unpopularity Kanye West is still my favorite rapper. No one asked me, but I am writing the story sooo I’m just giving you a little intro before I get into it…

Now...anyone that knows me well (about 18 people) knows that my favorite quote is from a rapper that is NOT Kanye West. “You can do it put your back into it” is my absolute favorite lyric/quote/mantra what have you. YeahEYeaheeee (is that how you spell that?). Anyway I repeat that Ice cube quote literally everyday. I have another favorite quote. I don’t know how many favorites you can actually have but Spellman University’s (an HBCU not as great as NCCU, but I’m biased) motto- “Find a way or make a way”- have been so inspirational to me daily.

Light the sage and tell Alexa to que Jazmine Sullivan - any song because they’re all my mood right now- and listen to this shit...

Have you ever? Hypothetically of course...

Have you ever been served a civil suit for temporary and full custody of your infant breastfeeding daughter by your fiancé with whom you share a residence?

Have you ever been told repeatedly that “nobody likes you”, “you’re mean”, “you’re unkind”, “you don’t answer the phone pleasant enough”, “you’re a horrible mother because you allowed your four-year-old child to call another man (that’s living under the same roof) dad?

Have you ever been told “I wish you would die” as you hold your beautiful one-month old baby daughter by the man with whom you thought you grow old?

Have you ever been accused of “trapping” someone with a baby and only wanting their money even though you went through the entire IVF process to create a child together by the person who paid for the treatment?

Have you ever been sitting in a room and overheard your boyfriend at the time tell his best friend that you were harassing him about a baby? ...He can’t be talking about the same baby that he just paid $12,000 of his own money to have his ish placed in a Petri dish with my eggs because his count was drastically low.

Have you ever been cheated on so many times that you can’t even gather the tears to cry?

Have you ever been told that you should expect cheating from a man that pays all the bills?

Have you ever been told you should allow disrespect from a man because he’s not a “regular nigga”…he’s wealthy?

Have you ever come home from grabbing a milkshake to find your friend disheveled and flustered, rushing to her car barefoot saying she has to get out of your house?

Have you ever left your drunken friend in your daughter’s bed to keep her safe only to have her accuse your boyfriend of pulling off her panties and giving her a vagina a kiss without her consent?

Has one of your closest friends ever accused your boyfriend of sexual assault/ pretty much rape?

Have you ever had proof that someone was cheating on you and you show that person their own dick pics and they say they didn’t do it?

Have you ever read text messages to another woman from your fiancé and the other woman mentions your name, your daughters name annnnnd knows that your pregnant?

Have you ever heard a rumor that someone from your fiancé’s church was having sex with your fiancé while you were pregnant and find out that it was true?

Have you ever uprooted your small child’s comfortable life to move to a state that you don’t wish to live for a man who picks apart everything you do?

Have you ever been told not to work and then work part time during a global pandemic while you’re pregnant and homeschooling two kids in two different grades and then told months later that you “only came down here and got pregnant for the money”?

Have you ever had your boyfriend curse you out in front of your friends?

Has your boyfriend ever cursed out one of your friends?

Have you ever had lies told on you by your own fiancé in order for him to make himself look good to others who don’t ever care about him?

Have you ever decided to leave and start over with virtually nothing and have a millionaire who is also your child’s father accuse you of stealing lamps al while calling you several “broke bitches”, a monster thot and telling you he doesn’t care if you sleep on the floor but then wants to be friends?

Have you ever had to take your infant daughter and six-year-old to the damn Doubletree hotels and suites to live for 13 nights because the verbal and emotional torture was turning into minor shoving and more intense arguments over nothingness?

Have you ever been accused of not allowing a person to let them see their child when you sleep under the same roof?

Have you ever been accused of using your child as a pawn by someone who was using your child as a pawn?

Have you ever been sent photos of about 20 onesies in a closet telling you that you’ve taken all of the baby shower gifts when you also have the baby?

Have you ever feared for your child’s safety?

Has anyone ever tried so badly to make everyone the introduced you too hate your guts?

Have you ever lost 20lbs of weight in three weeks due to stress?

Have you ever had to move three times with an infant child and a six-year-old in a two-month span of time?

Have you ever been so tired you forget to eat?

Have you ever just been so freaking tired?

Have you ever given up everything and trusted someone and then left with virtually nothing but your clothes and your daughters clothes and toys and still get accused of taking a fucking $79.99 dollar throw rug from Homegoods?

Have you ever felt inadequate?

Has someone ever made you feel like you don’t deserve love?

Has someone ever made you feel like a nutcase for feeling hurt?

Has anyone ever tried to tell everyone that you’re crazy in order to discredit everything you say?

Has someone ever offered to buy you a purse when a random girl found your private Instagram account to tell you the person you love was sucking her pussy in Miami?

Has anyone offered to buy you a bag in order to shut you up about a realtor with very split ends?

Has anyone ever made up lies and woke you up out of your sleep to tell them to you?

Have you ever felt so low you can’t do anything but cry your grown ass to sleep at night?

Has it ever taken you two years to realize it’s not you?

Have you ever been imperfect?

Have you ever just needed to breath and think? …You can do it, put your back into it (lol corny AF, but seriously).

Have you ever had to spend nearly 40K cash (every penny you fucking had) in the span of two months to make sure you and your daughters have a roof over your head and some forks and furniture?

Have you ever been thankful that you were able to do so?

Have you ever had to accept every helping hand extended to you?

Have you ever been postpartum and delirious?

Have you ever wanted to scream fuuuuuckkkkk?

Have you ever just wanted to call/hug your mom or dad and can’t?

Have you ever cried Pink Himalayan Sea Salt tears to one of your best friends over French toast?

Have you ever felt like why is this happening to me?

Hopefully you haven’t…but if you had I would hug you. I would scream the ICE Cube quote obnoxiously over an imaginary mic. I would encourage you to have the strength to leave. I would tell you to seek therapy. I would tell you that you aren’t crazy. I would drive all the way from Philly to help you build the crib for your daughter, I would babysit your oldest daughter while you pulled extra shifts, I would watch your oldest daughter for an entire weekend so she just walked into her new home, I would keep your daughter for two weeks while she was in virtual school so she didn’t have to see her mom in such a low spot, I would buy you groceries, I would come and wipe down your hotel bathroom and all the other surfaces b/c duh coronavirus, I would tell you that just because you aren’t getting physically hit doesn’t mean you aren’t experiencing abuse, I would have a bonfire and give you a candle and some flowers and some very tight hugs, I would make you three fire ass playlists, I would encourage you and tell you that you are valuable and loved. I would check on you weekly, I would go to brunch with you, I would pay your phone bill, I would let you and your daughters spend the week at my house and make you watch that horrible meek mill movie on volume 100, I would book you a hotel room and invite all of your closest friends to have a spa day, I would take a half day off to let the movers into your storage unit, I would let you ship furniture to my house, I would make you share your location with me so I knew you were safe, I would help you literally unpack your entire house, I would help you find an attorney, I would give you free legal advice, I would order you wallpaper, I would just listen, I would help you wash all of your new dishes and sheets, I would walk through ikea with you for hours, I would love you…I would do anything I could, I would be the friend all of my friends were to me.

How could I even question my self worth, my energy, my spirit, my personality when I am obviously getting back all of this positive energy and love. Who were you to think that you couldn’t find a way or make a way?

#self help #self healing #love #relationships #breakup

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rcmclachlan · 7 years ago

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Headcanon: Jane Foster Saves The Universe

Ever since I saw Thor: Ragnarok (which I loved SO MUCH), all I’ve been able to think about is that one throwaway line that explained away Jane Foster’s absence. It really steams my clams that we had this awesome scientist who was as awkward and earnest as any of us dorks, who humanized a bratty space prince and never compromised herself or her work, and they erased her with a single line about her dumping Thor—like it explained anything. Like, she tore apart the stars looking for him for three years, and suddenly she’s like “Peace out, girl scout”? I can’t see her giving up him and their life together—which they fought for—for anything.

After a lot of angry mumbling to myself and singing along to sad 90s ballads in my car, I realized exactly what must have happened.

Odin happened.

The All-Father himself shows up on Jane’s doorstep at like 6 in the morning on a random Tuesday, wearing a ratty bathrobe and in serious need of a bath and beard trim. She suddenly feels better about the fact that she’s not wearing a bra under her shirt.

It’s actually Thor’s shirt.

“They evacuated the nursing home and I slept under a bridge before I recalled that you resided in the next town over” is a sentence she never expected to come out of the mouth of a veritable god, and yet here they are. Instead of asking the many questions she has (most of them starting with “what” and “the fuck”), she hustles him inside and gets him seated on the couch with a mug of the really good coffee (sent weekly by Tony Stark, because “minds like ours need high test, pangolin, you’ll see what I’m talking about”).

“At least you Midgardians can do one thing right,” Odin rumbles and drains his coffee in a single go, because like father like son, and the son is a champion mead drinker on several worlds. It physically pains Jane to give Odin any more of it, because it comes by the ounce and not by the can, and it’s going to be another six days before her next coffee delivery arrives.

Odin asks if they can watch The Price Is Right. The nursing home had him follow a pretty strict routine and he hates deviating from it.

Seriously, what.

While Drew Carey explains the rules of Lucky Seven to contestant Linda, who has the chance to win a new truck if she’s left holding a dollar by the end of the game, Jane finally can’t hold it in anymore and blurts out that Thor isn’t there. “He’s gone this week. Hunting for more Infinity Stones. You know. Since the thing with Malekith, we’ve been searching for more. But he should be back by Friday.”

Odin nods sagely and says that Linda should choose 4 as her next guess.

This is the man who once compared her to a goat. Now he’s yelling at the TV because Linda picked 9.

“Is there someone I can, uh, call…? Or I can make reservations at a hotel for you until he’s back. Not that I don’t want you here!” She really doesn’t though. “It’s just that our guest room is basically a closet. Thor keeps all his HomeGoods finds in it.”

That giant cast iron anteater is not going in their bedroom, no matter how much he wants their guests to admire what he’s deemed the finest offering of Midgardian craftsmanship.

“I am here for you.” For a hot second, she thinks Odin’s talking to Drew Carey. But he turns that creepy one-eyed stare upon her and her skin tries to crawl off her bones to escape it, but she swallows and forces herself to meet it.

He tells her that the end of all things is coming. He tells her that if Thor can’t stop it, no world will be spared. He tells her of Hela, the first born. He tells her of Thanos Star-Eater. And then he tells her what she’d thought this was all about: that she and Thor can’t be together.

But before she can open her mouth to object, Odin says quietly, “This is bigger than you and what you share with my son. Billions upon billions upon billions of lives teeter on the edge of a knife, and all that stands between them and death is the hope that Thor’s mind is unclouded enough to act—that will never happen until you are not at the forefront. I beg you not out of pettiness, Jane Foster, for though you are not the partner of whom I approve, neither can I deny the impact you have made upon my son. I beg you out of desperation. The end is here, and you cannot be selfish.”

They watch the rest of the episode in silence. Linda doesn’t make it to the end.

As soon as The Price Is Right outro theme begins to play, Odin says, “I have walked through the dreams of my son and begun sowing the seeds of discontent. Whether you act first or not, your union will crumble.”

Thor had been particularly antsy to leave this time around. Normally whenever he leaves, be it for another realm or to run down to the grocery store because they finally restocked Friendly’s Sundae Xtreme ice cream, he pushes her up against whatever will hold them and kiss her until she’s robbed of all cogent thought. This time, he gave her a perfunctory kiss and swanned out the door. Jane closes her eyes and whispers, “Of course you did, you son of a bitch.”

And she wants to rail against what he’s started, what he’s asking of her, but she’s spent all her life searching for proof of what’s at stake. Odin’s right. It would be the most selfish thing she’s ever done if she refuses. A broken heart is nothing when weighed against actual lives.

There’s nothing left to say. Odin flips through the channels while Jane sits there and tries to breathe around the scream bubbling in her throat. When Odin lands on that show about people catching catfish with their arms, he asks if they could order a pizza. Jane calls it in. She doesn’t eat a single slice. She excuses herself to bed while Odin watches late-night TV. In the bedroom, she puts on the ragged plaid shirt that Thor refuses to take off when he’s home and slips into bed on his side. Thor’s pillow smells like the cheap shampoo he loves—strawberry blast. She cries until dawn.

In the morning, she pours Odin a bowl of cornflakes and milk, which he eats by spooning the cereal into his mouth and chasing it with the milk. He polishes off three more bowls, wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his robe, and announces that he is going to go. At the door, he thanks her for her hospitality. She doesn’t know what to say, so she says nothing.

Odin places a hand on her shoulder and murmurs, “Perhaps it will not mean anything to you, but I am—” but she can’t hear his bullshit platitudes and fake sorries, so she steps back and hoarsely bites out, “I need for you to leave now.” And miracle of miracles, he does.

Outside comes the agitated baying of crows.

The rest of the week passes by in a blur. She finishes a project for SHIELD but couldn’t say what it is that she accomplished. Time oozes like an open wound. Friday rolls around and Thor comes home. There’s a loose board in the floor of the foyer that squeaks as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, uncharacteristically hesitant. He used to kick the door down and shout for all and sundry to hear that he had returned and wanted to spend the next two days in bed. He doesn’t say anything. Not even an “I’m home.” Because Odin planted seeds that have grown and Thor isn’t and has never been a liar. Jane sits in the living room, chin on her knees, and breathes.

And breathes.

And pushes herself to her feet to go meet him in the foyer. Thor smiles at her, but it’s small and filled with regret, and he glances around the apartment they share, the home they’ve made together, like it’s unfamiliar to him. Like he didn’t frame and hang those Valhalla posters on the walls, or insist on buying that metal bowl by the door to fill with mittens for any guests who might need them.

“Jane,” he begins, and it sounds like an ending.

It is. Of course it is. And she can’t be selfish, not knowing all that she does, so when Thor haltingly tries to do the whole “it’s me not you” thing, she helps him out by agreeing that their relationship has run its course, that she understands completely why he wants things to end because she feels the same way, and it’s all so amicable and kind and earnest that she waits until he goes to pack to go to the bathroom to throw up. She gags into the toilet bowl but it’s mostly nothing. She should’ve had a bowl of cereal instead of giving Odin a fourth helping.

Two hours later, Thor has two duffel bags of his things tossed over one shoulder like a sweater, and he suggests that Jane donate everything in the HomeGoods closet. She laughs and sounds convincing even to her own ears when she promises that she will.

Please don’t, I won’t survive it, she thinks wildly as he bends down and brushes his lips against the corner of her mouth. He smells like fake strawberries and starlight. She bites the inside of her cheek so hard it bleeds.

“Goodbye, Jane. I cannot begin to thank you for all you have done for me. There will never be anyone quite like you. I-I will always…” Thor trails off and then just stares at her, a little baffled, like he doesn’t know why he’s doing any of this. Like he’s forgotten why he’s leaving.

“Thor—”

I love you, I love you, don’t go, don’t leave, I love you.

Don’t be selfish, Jane.

She smiles and doesn’t fall to her knees, doesn’t beg him to stay. “There aren’t words for… any of this, Thor. I will always love you. Always. Take care of yourself, okay? Just… take care of yourself.”

He gathers her close. He smells so good and she fits so well into his arms. It’s her favorite place to be, and that this is the last time that she’ll ever be there doesn’t make a lick of sense, because she was promised forever.

She hopes he can’t hear the frantic pounding of her heart, making her a liar.

As soon as he leaves, she calls Darcy.

At some point Darcy bursts in carrying a bag full of wine bottles and another bag full of family-sized bags of Doritos. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. You’d think a grid system would be easy to navigate, especially since London’s all fucking horse paths, but Siri apparently forgot what it’s like to be in New York because she got me lost on 23rd and—Jane? Jane, tell me that you haven’t been standing there since he left.”

“I don’t know,” Jane admits. It’s possible that she’s been standing there forever.

“Okay, Janey.” It’s weird to hear Darcy sound so sad. “Okay.”

The next afternoon, when Jane is finally sober enough to put together a coherent sentence, she looks over at Darcy—who looks fresh as a fucking daisy—and asks what happened.

“You drank a fifth of vodka and played that song from Pretty Woman on repeat for almost two hours, then you went outside and shouted for Heimdall to open the Bifrost so you could egg Thor’s house.”

Jane blinks. “Did you promise to fight Thor on my behalf or am I making that up?”

“I’m gonna fight him on live TV, too,” Darcy agrees viciously, which seems so out of step because Darcy never blamed Thor for his three-year absence, but Jane vaguely recalls Darcy saying something about castration so justified that no jury on any planet would convict her. “And I’m gonna win.”

At Jane’s incredulous stare, Darcy shrugs and says, “Girl code.”

That first week Jane allows herself an hour a day for crying and feeling sorry for herself. The following week, she gives herself 45 minutes. The next, half an hour, and so on until she can make it through without breaking down. They say that time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t. It does make them a bit smaller, though.

But there are times where Jane will lie in bed on his side and cuddle the sweatshirt he forgot to pack, and she thinks about where he is and what he’s doing. Who he’s with. Who he’s replaced her with. Sometimes she imagines the life they might have had together. Maybe they would have married—a small affair in the desert where this began or a huge blow-out on the catwalk at Arecibo. Maybe they would have made their own stars, forged in the cosmic kiln of her belly, with Thor’s ridiculous golden locks and her boring brown eyes and his hunger for battle and hers for the unknown. Or a dog. One big enough to ride, just for him.

She thinks about what she would say if he ever came back—but even in her own mind, the better, stronger version of her takes him back. Jane was never in search of someone to complete her; she’s completed herself for as long as she can remember. A complement, though, is infinitely rarer and more precious, and she had found the grail in Thor. To have lost him isn’t like missing a limb, but her life is so very much less full now. A remnant of what it had been. A black dwarf.

Like he’d said: there will never be another like him. She will learn to live with it.

Time passes. Jane reads about the Accords on the New York Times website and is watching the press conference where the king of Wakanda is killed. About a week later, Tony Stark comes and crashes on her couch. He looks like he’s seven or eight minutes away from death. He tells her he all but adopted a teenage spider and that he and Pepper have decided to end things for good, because apparently surprise proposals don’t make good red herrings for the media. She saw that press conference too. She’s never cringed so much in one sitting. They spend the entire weekend eating pizza bagels and binge watching Black Mirror. Not once does either of them bring up the big, beefy blond that walked out of their life.

More time passes. She’s sleeping through the night now. Jane is nominated for the Nobel in Astrophysics for her work in proving the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory, and that December she loses to a tiny, adorable Kazakh woman who knows everything there is to know about magnetohydrodynamics, and isn’t even mad about it. As a consolation prize, she gets invited to the Stark STEM Fundraiser Gala and only fights Darcy a little about going.

“You are going to chop off that rat’s nest you call hair and rock an incredible gown and then make out with a hundred hot science dudes. I’ll know if you don’t. I have eyes everywhere. If you spend more than five minutes hiding by a food table, I will call Victor Von Doom and have him bring the whole place down.”

Darcy gives credence to her threat by showing Jane Doom’s number in her phone. He’s listed as Less Good Iron Man. Jane would ask, but doesn’t have the mental capacity to handle the answer.

She ends up getting her hair cut to her shoulders and gets layers and bangs that she immediately regrets, and she goes to the gala dressed in a crimson floor-length gown that feels as though it’s made entirely of gossamer. It flows like water and swirls around her feet when she walks. She’s even wearing lipstick—a brand that Darcy swore wouldn’t come off without turpentine. She feels beautiful, and in a moment of weakness she wishes that Thor was here to see her. Wishes he could share in the joy of where she is today.

She hopes he’s safe. She hopes he did what she asked and is taking care of himself.

About halfway through the gala, while she’s trying to appear interested in some hot science dude’s wrong ideas about the Schwarzschild Metric, the doors burst open and two men desperately push their way through throngs of people, shouting Jane’s name.

“Excuse me for a second,” she says to Hot Science Dude, like an idiot, and runs to meet them by the hors d'oeuvres table.

Tony’s armor is either melted to his skin or is somehow part of him, but it’s broken and smashed in several places, and it looks like his left arm is entirely useless. Next to him, breathing heavily, is—

“Aren’t you dead,” Jane demands shrilly, and Loki gives her what would be an impressive glare if he weren’t hemorrhaging from a massive headwound. She wants to slap him across his stupid face anyway. Thor spent weeks mourning him—and not the kind of loud sobbing that comes when he watches WALL-E, but silent, bitter tears of loss under the cover of night.

Loki holds up what looks like a steampunk/Harry Winston mashup gone horribly wrong and snarls, “This beautiful idiot seems to be under the impression that you might know a way to dismantle this, so here we are. Right now, if you would be so kind. He’ll be here soon.”

Tony bats his eyes. “Aww, you think I’m beautiful?”

She opens her mouth to shout that she has no idea what it even is or who “he” is when there comes a tugging in her cerebrospinal fluid, a child pulling at her shirt in a bid to be acknowledged, and she looks at the row of gemstones buried in gaudy gold until her gaze lands on the ruby. No, it’s not a ruby.

Hello, it seems to say, and her blood shudders at the memory of how it invaded her veins, pushed its way into every crevice, every corner of her, forcing out the marrow in her bones and staking its claim. It knows her down to her atoms. As if answering the question she’s too afraid to ask, it dissolves into the bloody mist she knows so well and rises up to meet her outstretched fingertips, licking at them in greeting.

“Tell me those aren't—” But one look at Tony’s exhausted, stone-cold expression is all she needs to know.

The infinity stones.

She slowly wiggles her fingers, watching the Aether twist and play between them, and exhales. “How did you get them?”

“Doublemint here stole his glove.”

Jane blinks and tears her attention away from the Aether because what. “Whose glove?”

“It is a long and interesting tale, full of failure and certain death, but Stark is under the impression that you have the knowledge to dismantle it,” Loki says airily. He sounds like a rubber band stretched too thin, on the verge of breaking. “The others will not be able to hold him back for long. Time is somewhat of the essence.”

She knows that she has the most confused look on her face, because Tony snaps, “Don’t you check your damn phone? Wakandan army mobilized and fighting in Africa and Europe? Big world-ending skirmish in the middle of Boston? The entire city’s gone!”

“There’s a big world-ending skirmish every other week! My New York Times alert didn’t even go off!” Although Darcy’s text tone had been going off like crazy in Jane’s purse about an hour ago. In Jane’s defense, Darcy said she was going to binge-watch M*A*S*H* and live-text Jane all her reactions, so it seemed prudent to ignore her entirely.

“New York!” Loki shouts. “The one who instigated the Chitauri in New York! That’s who is here.”

“You mean you.”

“No, not him,” Tony says urgently, glancing over his shoulder with more fear than should ever be on his face. “Big alien with a big alien army. We need you to dismantle the gauntlet before he gets here and takes it back and, you know, undoes reality. Or whatever he wants with it. What does he want with it?” Tony directs the question to Loki, who’s obviously very done with this entire universe.

“To unmake everything and forge something in his own image,” Loki says tonelessly, then sighs like he wants nothing more than to sink to the floor and stay there. For a long stretch of a moment, their eyes meet, and all she can see is his utter hopelessness. He doesn’t think he’s going to survive this time. Jane has the horrible urge to hug him.

“What makes you think I can even…? Tony, I don’t even know what these are. Having the Aether in me didn’t make me an expert!”

“You proved the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory!”

“Because one almost totaled my car!”

The gala-goers are all starting to stare and murmur, but when they take out their phones to snap pictures, their attention is obviously snagged by the alerts and texts from their loved ones about what’s happening. Someone starts screaming. Others start crying. Jane feels a tension headache starting in her jaw.

“Jane? Janey, bright spark in the sky, love of my life, keeper of all the brains?” Tony snaps the fingers of his right hand in her face. Since he’s still in the Iron Man suit, it creates sparks. “C'mon, c'mon. Time’s a-wastin’! Also, it’s not lost on me that you had one of these bad boys inside you and I’m only hearing about this now. You’ve been holding out on me, Foster. I thought we were bros. We bonded. We shared ice cream spoons and everything.”

Loki growls something unintelligible and just shoves the big golden glove into her arms. It’s the size of an eight-year old child, but it’s lighter than air. As soon as her hand cups it so the stupid thing doesn’t fall to the floor, a vibration starts up under her palm, humming loudly. Light limns the outline of her fingers.

Worthy. It drifts like smoke across the backs of her eyes, and she shudders, ready to toss the thing away, but then the Hulk comes slamming through the giant dome ceiling and into the floor. A literal crater opens up.

Tony throws himself over her and protects her from flying debris and bits of stone. The entire gala erupts into chaos—people screaming and running from the scene, people screaming and calling for help from where they’re crushed under stone, people just screaming in general. Some of the Avengers—and a bunch of other people that she doesn’t recognize—all come down through the giant hole in the ceiling and immediately go into their fighting stances. One guy in a ridiculous cape is floating. There’s also a giant Ent and a raccoon with a huge weapon slung over its shoulder.

“I’m gonna kick some giant purple ass,” the raccoon shouts, cocking its gun gleefully.

Jane can’t help but stare. “Did that raccoon just—”

“That’s Rocket,” Tony says with glee. “He’s my new best friend.”

“Fuck you, Stark!” The raccoon calls.

Jane lets her eyes wander and the blood in her veins freezes at the sight of familiar epaulettes holding up a red cloak. The first thing she thinks is, Holy shit, he cut his hair. It looks incredible. The second is, Thank every god, he’s okay, wait where’s his eye? Then her meandering train of thought derails when an incredible-looking woman in armor gives Thor a rakish, intimate grin, nudging him with an elbow almost playfully, which he returns gladly. They both look like they’ve been through the wringer and loved every second of it.

She glances over to where some poor guy’s legs stick out from under a huge chunk of stone. There’s a small river of blood oozing out from beneath it.

Yeah, it sort of feels exactly like that.

Don’t be selfish, Jane.

Suddenly something starts beeping wildly and the Iron Man face mask shuts with a bang. Tony shouts, “Shit, incoming!” as he hikes Jane under his right arm and, screaming, forces his left into motion to grab Loki, blasting away just as the rest of the ceiling caves in.

Tony gets hit mid-flight, but he spins around and takes the brunt of the impact, which still jars Jane’s teeth. Also, she thinks she may have a broken rib. Breathing hurts like a bitch. And she somehow had the wherewithal to keep hold of the stupid glove, because it’s still clutched in her arms like a baby.

“Ow, fuck. Not to alarm anyone, but I think I broke my neck.” Tony’s arm goes slack around her waist, and she slides to the floor next to him. There’s something metallic and wet in her mouth, bubbling up in her throat. Oh good, the rib must’ve punctured a lung.

“Stark, if I were not already entangled in a romantic arrangement with a cosmic sex machine, I would feel very indebted to you right now,” Loki says. The words positively drip sex. The effect is somewhat ruined when he shoves Tony’s left arm off of him and pushes heartlessly to his feet. Tony howls in pain.

Loki brushes himself off and then holds out a hand for Jane to take. “I’m sorry, but we have to run before—”

And then Loki’s gone. One minute he’s there, the next the foundation shakes as he hits a wall. She doesn’t see it, but she hears it, and ow.

“I don’t care for people taking my things without asking.” It’s said so gently, so congenially, that for a second Jane thinks it’s her own father jokingly scolding her for borrowing his telescope without permission. Except her father’s been dead for years and a giant purple man-thing looms over her, sinister promise etched onto his horrible face.

In her arms, the gauntlet hums.

She used to daydream about her death when she was in middle school, would keep a list of the clever and ridiculous ways it would happen. Her favorite was being spaghetti-fied in a black hole. Down the sides of all her science papers were doodles of her body elongated and twisted into loops and weird shapes. The runner-up was decapitation on Space Mountain. Mr. Trent used to deduct two points from her work for the drawings, citing mental cruelty. Mrs. Crumbine thought they were funny as hell.

But a mad titan grinning down at her, reaching down to crush her, never made the list. Maybe she just didn’t have the imagination back then.

She coughs a protest when the gauntlet is plucked from her grasp, but it’s all moot anyway. Her body is lifted by a huge hand, fingers the size of small dogs curling around her, and she knows she only has seconds left. She’s going to die here.

From very far away, someone is screaming her name.

“You think you’re fit to wield the gauntlet? You’re nothing.” Cheerfully, the grip around her tightens until she feels something pop, and then the world dissolves into red mist.

Except.

There is Red in her veins, in her eyes, and Purple in the spaces between the stars, and an infinite number of Orange strings refract from a single point and vibrate with purpose. Yellow in her fingertips, ready for change. Blue in her mind, in the minds of everyone and everything. Green in her ribs, her lung, her father’s stopped heart, her mother’s cancerous cells. But first and foremost, Red. It was the first and it is the strongest and it lives in the hearts of both the living, the dead, and neither.

Gold cannot hold us, Purple says.

The unworthy cannot wield us, Yellow hums.

It is not the fist that boasts a weapon, murmurs Green.

But the mind, sings Blue

From the first to the last breath, it has always been the mind, Orange gentles.

A gauntlet for a fist, Red whispers. A crown for the mind.

For you, who is not Star-Eater.

But Star-Learner.

You, who is Worthy.

The gauntlet pulls apart and shifts, twists, reforms itself into something kinder, something just for her, and she plucks the diadem from the air and places it upon her head.

The mad titan lets loose a roar that shakes the skies, and Jane is Red and suddenly free, at the mercy of the air—but no. The air is at her mercy. The laws of gravity are just guidelines by which she doesn’t have to abide, and she doesn’t want to, so she doesn’t. She doesn’t have to abide by anything, not if she doesn’t want to, because she can do and make and change and stop everything and anything, for everything and anything belong to her. She knows all, sees all, does all.

Tony is dying, and she twitches her fingers and he is whole. Loki is dying, and then he is not. They are all of them in pain, suffering for the good of the world, and she takes it away.

A fist missing a gauntlet moves faster than light, but she is Red and therefore faster than both and so lifts a hand to stop it with a gentle press of her fingers, and from her touch inertia and action potential bend and wait for her to make a decision.

She is Orange and sees that the titan means to do just as Loki said and remake reality to suit his own purpose. In a million different shards of light he sits as death made manifest upon a throne made of the bones of the worlds he has destroyed, and the universe is a black void, an empty graveyard, and his fist is a golden weapon.

Inhale, exhale, and stars live and die and quake and shrink, and every single one of them buzzes in her skull like trapped bees and oh, the bees, and they are so unique and all-encompassing, and she loves them terribly. And she is Green and she reaches out to paint her judgment upon his chest, snuffing out the dim light that still lingers in his soul, rendering him a white dwarf without heat or light.

And she is Purple, pulling him into fractions, base components, and she is everywhere, scattering him into the hearts of every living star, and she is Orange, and she puts him in the before, the now, the soon-to-be, at the very start of this universe and in all the ones that came before, and the ones that have not yet to pass. He wanted a piece of himself in every corner of every universe—his wish is granted.

He will never be whole. He will never be put back together again, and so he fades from existence as if he had never been. And without him, his armies crumble to dust.

She inhales, and is Red, and Red calls to all of them, and so she is all of them, and there are galaxies in her lungs and possibility on her tongue. She could change it all for the better. She could eradicate pain and suffering, bigotry and hatred. She could pull rain into the desert and call forth trees in wastelands. She could stretch across worlds and lifetimes and sow the seeds of hope.

“Jane.”

And Orange and Red and Blue and Green and Yellow and Purple breathe together, and suddenly Thor is before her—not the one staring from the ground, but the one who is possible, the one who could be.

He cups her cheek in his hand and murmurs, “This could be. You could have him. It is a gift we offer you, Star-Learner, to ease the pain in the matter between worlds and your own heart. Odin True-Guesser cannot touch you, cannot break the bond. Above all else, you wish nothing more than for him to look at you and smile again. We offer it.”

She looks down and there he is, the one she loves so much that she let him go, and she could make it so that awful moment in the foyer of their little New York apartment never happened, anywhere, anywhen. They could be together.

And she cannot keep hold of the shard of her sitting with the All-Father, trying desperately to hold the pieces of herself together as he told her to break her own heart for the greater good. She cannot keep the world from watching her cry into the one sweatshirt Thor forgot to pack, clutching it to her face, desperate to keep his smell where it clung to collar, to keep him, her complement, for one moment longer. She cannot stop them from seeing him bend down to kiss her among a rain of petals and stars, sealing the vows they had made to each other, in a perfect moment that never happened. She cannot contain the bubbles of children’s laughter, joyous, shrieking as their father picks them up like gravity can’t touch them, like they were real to begin with.

They all see it, her weaknesses, her heartbreak. He sees it.

Thor stares up at her, shock chasing realization across his face, and she is Blue and feels the truth of their break settle in his bones. Feels the horror and guilt as he replays her flippant agreement as he suggested an ending to their story.

She could have him now. She could take this offer and they could go anywhere, be anyone, do anything. She could have everything she’s ever wanted. Together, they could end the pains of this universe and make it better.

She could.

But.

She is Red, which bolsters the others, and worlds within worlds upon worlds inhale as she makes the only choice that can ever be, will ever be, has ever been.

She gazes into that beloved face, the real one, and then gently lifts the diadem from her head.

“It’s all I want. A life with Thor is everything I want… but I can’t be selfish.”

Her fingers loosen and the diadem drips like water to the floor.

Breathing out, she is Jane Foster, astrophysicist, human disaster, and done.

“I can’t be selfish.”

Blue and Yellow and Purple and Green and Orange and, yes, Red, all sigh as one.

No.

You are, and will always be, worthy.

She opens her eyes and inhales like it’s the last time, but her lungs are full of sweet, crisp air as pure as amnion. Pushing herself to her feet, she takes stock. Her body is whole, but she’s no longer at the Met, and no longer is she stretched through time and space. Instead, she’s standing on a grassy knoll in the most incredible place she could describe. From glowing, silver murk stretch leafless trees around which glittering bugs lazily circle, and flowers as exquisite as icing roses open and close, the veins of their petals lit up like Christmas. A great beast, like a whale with spider silk wings, glides overhead, singing a hauntingly beautiful song as it goes. She watches it, heart full, disappear into watercolor clouds.

This must be Heaven. Helpless to stop the smile tugging at her mouth, she turns…

… and comes face to face with Odin.

Oh, never mind. This must be the other place.

“I must admit, it is not often that I am surprised, particularly by a Midgardian.” Odin looks at her like he always did: as though she isn’t fit to breathe his air, and like he might be a bit constipated. “But you removed the gauntlet.”

“Crown,” she corrects him, because she’s a dumbass.

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth like a dog yanking on a toy, and he inclines his head. “A most impressive one—for a sovereign chosen by the powers that made existence. You could have changed reality, and yet you rejected it.”

Jane purses her lips and watches the whale thing cut slowly through the clouds, its thousand-finned tail stirring up a gentle breeze that smells like raspberries. It’s almost laughable, the idea that she was given the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. She couldn’t keep a goldfish alive.

“I almost didn’t,” she admits, because for a moment the temptation was so great that she was going to reach out to take that Thor, the gift, by the hand and leave to go build castles in the sky. “But then I looked around, I looked at Thor, and I thought, ‘Why is it wrong for Thanos to remake reality but okay for me? What makes me deserving? It shouldn't… It shouldn’t be okay for anyone to make those kinds of choices. No one person should have that kind of power. Not me, not him, not any of us.”

Her nose burns and her eyes go hot, and she closes them and sniffles, and whispers, “I didn’t want to be selfish.”

The whale thing’s haunting melody sinks through the clouds and takes up residence in her chest, and she curls around the ache of it, those desolate nights in her empty bed made manifest in song.

A hand, scarred by war and softened by love, nudges into hers, and Odin gently squeezes as he draws her into his arms.

“I do not regret much in my life,” he says into her hair. He smells like metal. Like space. “I have made many mistakes but I have found reason for most of them; I cannot find it in me to excuse what I said to you that day. You offered me hospitality and I ordered you to tear apart your own life, and for what? My first born still destroyed Asgard and the mad titan still came to collect what he thought was his due. It prevented nothing.”

For a cranky old god, he’s surprisingly huggable. Kind of like her dad. She closes her eyes and sinks into it.

“You did not allow my folly to break you,” Odin murmurs, “and you did not allow the lure of the stones to best you. You sacrificed your happiness for the sake of others on the word of one you knew did not have your best interests at heart, and you willingly relinquished ultimate power. I regret all that I have done to you, Jane Foster, but nothing as much as I regret implying that you are selfish.”

If this were a movie, she would pull away, bestow a kind smile upon him, and gently thank him for his apology, maybe throw in a quip or two.

She bursts into big, ugly tears instead.

Odin shushes her like a child and tightens his hold on her, and a breeze licks at her hot, swollen eyes, beckoning her. She looks over his shoulder and—

Standing a few feet away, awash in gold, Frigga smiles, and it’s the warm spring wind that washes over wetlands and stirs the yellow flowers that Jane brings every Friday to the little stretch of swamp on the side of the highway nearest her in order to honor the mother of the man she loves. It’s probably weird that she still does it after the breakup, but she’s there every single Friday without fail, whispering apologies to the wind for not being able to save her.

“You are a wonder, Jane Foster, but you do not yet belong to these halls,” Frigga says, positively glowing. “There is still much left for you to do, but I eagerly await the day that I will welcome you back. You will have the most spectacular tales to tell.”

Odin places his hands on Jane’s shoulders and moves away, and leaves her to go join his queen at the edge of this strange, perfect world.

“The story continues.” And then Odin does the craziest thing ever.

He lowers his head and bows.

Above them, the whale thing holds a note that sounds like the binding of atoms around molecular clouds, the birth of a star, and everything goes white.

Then Blue. Green. Purple. Orange. Yellow.

Red.

There’s a spark of consciousness, and swims slowly to the surface only to find herself in the middle of an earthquake, except, no, it’s just Thor shaking her shoulders so hard that her head feels like it’s going to pop off.

“Jane. Jane, open your eyes. Please, don’t do this. Strange, strike her heart again! You were a doctor, were you not?! Perhaps one more jolt will be enough to—” His voice breaks, snaps clean in two, and there’s a struggle, like someone trying to pull him away but he fights them off. The movement jolts her. “Don’t touch me! Don't—Touch me again and I will break that hand, Widow. Jane, please—”

Someone sucks in a shaky breath. It almost sounds like the raccoon. “I don’t wanna be that guy, but I don’t think she's…”

“I will punt you seventy miles, I swear to god,” Tony snaps. “She’s a fighter, okay? A little dust-up like this isn’t going to kill her. You must know of some way to bring her back. Some wacky space thing? Elvira over here said that you’re a space god.”

“Demi-god.” She doesn’t recognize this new voice. “Look, my dad was a gigantic douchebag planet, okay, it doesn’t give me any special healing powers. Unless you count my dick, of course. Gamora, c'mon, don’t tell people about that—”

Fingers fan out over her cheek, softer than they have any right to be, and a woman with the breathiest voice Jane has ever heard shouts, “She is waking up!”

With all the strength of a soaked kitten with a three-day hangover, Jane mumbles a protest and reaches up to bat Thor away.

“Jane,” Thor breathes, and it’s the opposite of that day in the foyer. It rings out like daylight cresting a planetary curve. She opens her eyes and watches tears follow an already soaked path down his cheeks and into his beard. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does to have him look at her like this, but, well.

“You… cut your hair.” It takes every single brain cell she possesses to get it out, but it makes a smile break over his face like the dawn.

“I didn’t.” He swallows hard and blinks the tears away. One splashes her cheek and he hurriedly wipes it away with his thumb. “A drunk old man in prison did. You… You cut yours, as well.”

“I got bangs.”

“They… suit you.”

“They really don’t.”

A laugh bursts out of him, shaking his entire body, and he sucks in a breath like a sob. “No, they really don’t.”

The man in the cape from before pushes Thor out of the way and places his hands on Jane’s chest, palpating the area. If it weren’t so clinical, she’d slap him. “Hello. I’m Dr. Stephen Strange. I have many questions for you, Ms. Foster, but let’s start with the most pressing: do you feel pain or pressure when I push here?”

By the time she’s back on her feet and the others are either surveying the damage or yelling over comm links to the missing Avengers, Natasha Romanov has deemed Jane strong enough to endure ribbing about her honestly shitty bangs. “I’ll give you the number of my wig maker,” Natasha says, and Jane laughs.

“So what happened after I… ?” Jane looks around at the Met, which is basically a complete demolition nightmare. The Avengers and the people that introduced themselves as the guardians of the galaxy are starting to clear away the debris and the bodies. If Jane allows herself to stare at Thor, who’s hefting what looks like half a wall like it’s a pool noodle, a little longer than necessary, well… who can blame her? Look at his arms.

But yikes. Someone’s going to have to pay so much money to fix this—and whatever happened overseas. Jane’s not entirely sure of anything about the other Avengers except Tony’s seething jealousy and arousal over Captain America’s beard. In the distance, she can hear Tony trying and failing to assure Steve, still in Wakanda with the others, that Thanos is actually dead.

“Steve? Steven. Honey pie, unclench for a moment and just watch what I sent His Majesty, would you? My suit caught the whole thing on video. And if you have any questions… direct them to someone who isn’t me, because I was here and I have no idea what the hell happened.”

Natasha makes an odd noise in the back of her throat, then says, with obvious care, “I didn’t see much, but… the, uh, other Thor kind of faded away and then the crown thing exploded into a rainbow and all the colors just kind of… flew off in different directions. Then you fell, but Strange managed to catch you before you hit the ground, and… well, you weren’t breathing for a long time and your heart wasn’t beating.”

Jane blinks. “So. I was dead.”

“Pretty much, yeah. Thor kind of lost it. It got very lightning-y in here for a while.”

Come to think of it, the giant walking tree does look kind of crispy.

“He wouldn’t let us come near you, not if we were going to give up on you. He performed CPR for a few minutes before Strange stepped in and had Tony jolt your heart a few times.” Natasha tilts her head thoughtfully. “Someone said something, I can’t remember who, but then Thor started throwing elbows and everyone got in on the squabbling. It felt like the airport in a lot of ways, but then Gamora shouted everyone down and reminded them that this wasn’t going to help you. After that, Thor didn’t leave your side. Even after it was kind of obvious you weren’t coming back.”

Jane thinks of Odin’s kind, fatherly hug, and manages a shaky laugh. “Oh, you know me: I live to subvert expectations.”

“You might want to take this opportunity to, you know, talk to him. It sounds like you have some things you should say.”

Natasha doesn’t come right out and call the drive-in movie of Jane’s heartbreak and dreams really sad, but Jane gets the gist.

“I’ll take her.”

Natasha and Jane both turn as one and—it’s that woman. The incredible one from before, and Jane is torn between tearfully assuring the woman that she’s happy for her and Thor and proving herself by rejecting the offer of help in favor of walking over to the other side of the Met on her own (but Jane already knows she’s not going to make it ten feet without tripping and dying a second time).

“Valkyrie.” Natasha punches the woman, Valkyrie, playfully on the arm, then ducks the fists that comes to return the favor.

It wins a laugh out of Valkyrie. “I let you have that one, Spider.” To Jane, she grins and says, “Shall we?”

Jane smiles. “I’d appreciate that.”

Valkyrie puts an arm around the small of Jane’s back and takes Jane’s hand into hers, immediately starting forward in a confident glide. Well, Valkyrie does. Jane just kind of lurches along on newborn colt legs.

“I saw it, you know—entire universes contained in these little bird bones,” Valkyrie says, guiding her over a giant slab of ceiling. “They may think you’re yourself again, that the stones left you, but I know better. You’d never think to look at you, but even now there’s something still there.”

Jane feels a pulsing deep within her—blueyellowpurpleorangegreenblueRED—and clears her throat. “You might not be wrong.”

“It’s been known to happen on very special occasions,” Valkyrie laughs, deep, from her belly, and the white paint on her face seems to dance. Jane can’t help but grin. “Ah, there it is. Now I see.”

She tilts her head, curious. This could either be really good or really bad. “There what is?”

Valkyrie’s grin tempers into something wistful, like watching dandelion clocks blow into the horizon, gone forever, left only with the bare stem. “He would speak fondly of you, particularly when we flew past clusters of stars—said you knew all of them by name, that he would have taken you to meet them if he’d had the chance. I knew someone who smiled like that, someone for whom all the stars sang. She was so very strong, so clever. Beautiful, like you.”

Jane’s entire face burns hot and she ducks her head to hide it. Jeez. If she starts crying now, she’ll never stop. “Oh jeez, thank you.”

“Of course, she didn’t have the stupid—” Valkyrie takes her hand away to wiggle her fingers at her forehead, then gives Jane’s bangs a pitying look.

Jane sighs.

“Don’t worry. We all look ridiculous every now and again. Take the great Asgardian fool over there. He’s a shambles.”

Huh. “I thought his hair looked pretty good, actually.” Wait. “Haven’t you told him that you don’t like it? Aren’t you and he...”

“Oh, we were for a bit,” Valkyrie says with a shrug, all good cheer. “The adrenaline, the newness, but... it wasn’t what either of us thought it would be. He was in search of what he left behind. He wanted a grand love, and I... wasn’t ready for another one just yet.”

Hope is the worst four-letter word that Jane can think of, and it stirs to life in her chest, rotating fast, throwing off beams into the cosmos. She can’t be saying what Jane hopes she’s saying.

As if privy to her thoughts, Valkyrie throws Jane a wink and then pushes her forward so hard that she stumbles into a brick wall. “Hey, your highness, special delivery.”

The wall turns, and Thor turns away from Loki, who gives Jane a look that almost smacks of being sympathetic, before he slaps Thor’s ear, feints around the swing that Thor takes in retribution, and then he and Valkyrie head over to where Tony is now shouting over the comms. But not before Valkyrie cranes her head back to grin at Jane, who can do nothing but admire the picture of confident beauty that she paints. Holy wow. “Grand loves are for idiots, you know. You’d better make him work for it.”

She and Thor stare after her, and then Jane cracks the fuck up because, “Oh my god, we can never introduce her to Darcy.”

Thor cackles, his throat full of what sounds like dust and glass, but he bends at the waist and laughs into his knees as though it were any other day. “Never. Never. The universe wouldn’t survive it.”

For a second, it’s just like it used to be: with them in the kitchen failing at making cupcakes because it’s so much better to just grab two spoons to eat the batter, and someone’s said something hilarious to break the silence, and then they’re laughing into each other’s mouths.

A tentative smile curls his lips and he holds out a hand for her. “Want to take a walk?”

“Isn’t most of the street… destroyed?” Not that she doesn’t want to.

At that, Thor positively beams. “Funny thing happened earlier. This woman became a living, breathing universe and fixed not only the street but, from what I’m hearing, the rest of the world.”

Jane makes a face and looks around. “Why didn’t I fix this place, then?”

“That… is a good question,” Thor admits. As if on cue, one of the last sections of the far left wall gives up the ghost and crumbles to the floor with a loud crash. The raccoon blames the walking tree—loudly and at great length. “I don’t know. Why didn’t you?”

“I honestly don’t remember most of it, which is probably for the best. I think I went all crazy Galadriel there for a second,” Jane says with a sigh.

They fall into a comfortable silence and walk until they reach a part of the Met that is still somewhat standing. From what Jane can tell, it was the home of an exhibition about dogs. She accidentally kicks a broken figurine across the floor.

Finally, Thor comes to a stop and Jane follows suit. He visibly steels himself against whatever’s coming and Jane suddenly wishes she hadn’t tossed away the diadem because she’s going to need it to spare herself this.

“You let me go,” he says quietly, and it’s both a question and an accusation. “You stood there while I broke us and you let me go.”

Damn. True to form, Thor comes right out swinging. Jane closes her eyes and pushes back the shiver of tears that threatens to crawl up her throat. “Your father came to see me and he… made some good points. I couldn’t be the thing that held you back from doing what you had to to save lives. I didn’t want to be—”

“If you say ‘selfish’, I swear I will… I don’t know. Do something suitably dramatic.” He looks so serious that she chokes on a wet laugh. “I’m not kidding. Jane, you’re the least selfish person I know.”

“Dramatic, huh?” She wipes her eyes and can’t stop snickering.

“Embarrassingly so, according to my brother, who is very good at casting stones from his glass castle,” Thor mutters. The hard line of his shoulders shudders, then goes loose. It’s a defeated pose, one not meant to be worn by someone like him, so it just looks wrong. Like an ill-fitted suit, or a child playing dress-up. “I knew my mind had been addled by something. I could feel the compulsion, but I couldn’t fight through it. I should have fought harder. I shouldn’t have ever walked out that door. I’m so sorry, Jane.”

She heaves a sigh and smiles, and all at once the year of infinite sorrow dissipates like smoke. It’s such a huge relief that she feels like she could fly again. “Thor, don’t be sorry. I’m not. Look at what you accomplished, who you’ve met, who you got back. You got your brother back, you met Valkyrie, you… you saved your world. You wouldn’t have been able to do that if you were still sitting on our couch watching Stranger Things.”

He jolts, then asks urgently, “Did season 2 air?”

“It did,” she says with a nod. “And it was even better than the first one.”

“I’ll catch up. I have to know what happens to El.” Then he remembers what the whole point of this walk was and brings it down a notch. “It’s true that I’ve accomplished much, but… what about you, Jane?”

She shrugs. “What about me? I didn’t spend the whole year crying over you—only about 20% of it.” He doesn’t laugh. He couldn’t look more miserable than if he’d had his other eye torn out. “I picked up and carried on, Thor. I continued my work, I became friends with Tony, I was nominated for a Nobel—”

“You were?” His eyes shine and he immediately comes over to place his hands on her shoulders, gently shaking her in excitement. “Jane, that is amazing—”

“I didn’t win.”

“That doesn’t matter. Your work was finally recognized.” He looks so genuinely happy for her. She ducks her head to hide the giant-ass smile that she can’t keep off her face. “I always knew you could do it.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes hot, cheeks burning. “That means a lot coming from you. You were the driving force for so much of it.”

“Not true. Only about 20% of it.”

She cry-laughs and doesn’t fight it when he brings her into his arms, just rests her forehead against his ridiculous chest and breathes him in. This is better than any medal, any diadem spat out by existence itself. That hollow space inside her caves in, filling up, and the landscape is still uneven but for the most part it’s whole. It can be crossed without the threat of falling into a chasm.

Thor drops his chin into her hair, the way he used to. “Now what?”

She snorts. “I don’t know. I’m just glad you’re here, and that you’re okay.”

“Likewise.”

This is the man she hit with her car—twice—who gave her the stars in return for the promise of a new life with her on Earth. This is the man she waited three years for. This is the man she loved so much that she let go of him, set him free. This is also the man for whom she didn’t change, didn’t compromise herself. In the face of this knowledge, there’s only one thing left to say. “I don’t need you, Thor. I never did. I never will.”

He goes very still against her. “Jane—”

The smile stretched across her face is so big it hurts, and the tears beading on her lashes make the world swim as though it were stretching between entire universes. “But I want you. I choose you. I love you. I always have, and I always will. If that’s something you still want, then I’m in. I’m all in. Meddling parents, end of the world scenarios—whatever it takes. I’m in for good.”

Thor reaches up and slides his big hand to cup her jaw. It’s terrifying how easily he could break her. “Come with me. When the clean up’s done, when the world is truly back to rights, come roam the stars with me.”

She gapes at him. “My work, Thor. The apartment, Darcy, Erik—”

“Be selfish, Jane.” He’s grinning, giddy with it, practically vibrating in place. His enthusiasm has always been a joy to behold, but this is just—incandescence. “You’ve always wanted this and now you can have it. Be selfish, and come with me.”

When she dreamed of a future with him, it was always grounded here. Maybe marriage, maybe kids. Maybe they’d carry on as they had been, her with the work and him with the little distractions that Earth had to offer. Never did she allow herself to look up and think, what if we could?

He tightens his hold on her a bit, urgent, filled to the brim with hope, as if he can’t stand to wait another minute. “Well?”

Red.

First and foremost, red.

Be selfish, Jane Star-Learner.

Breathing out a laugh, she reaches up and slots their mouths together. He opens to her, catches her bottom lip with his teeth, and it’s messy and familiar and desperate. God, to feel his tongue again, his slick mouth parted with want, is better than the best cosmic mystery she could ever solve.

Be selfish.

She breaks the kiss and presses close, knocks her forehead against his, and grins.

Maybe just this once.

“When do we leave?”

#this is a jane foster appreciation blog #this is almost 10k words holy shit oops #my fic

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romancevsreality-blog · 7 years ago

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vanderpump rules, season six, episode five: oh, silk handerchief dresses, you died before you could really live.

This episode begins with syllabic noises being uttered over a musical beat, and we’re at Katie and Tom’s apartment, where Sandoval is briefing Jax on the shenanigans of the evening thus far. He’s drinking a Miller Lite, and Schwartz comes in, looking as disheveled as ever. Like, his boyish charm is wearing off quickly, and having a shirt unbuttoned one too many. As soon as Katie comes in, she dismisses the fuck out of Jax, who leaves on his motorized cooler.

I repeat: a motorized. Cooler.

THIS MAN IS 457 YEARS OLD, I’m shocked it took him this long to get on a motorized anything. Like, honestly, I’m not even going to make comment on it being a beer cooler on wheels because that’s far too obvious, but Jax could have spent this on his retirement money. Priorities, Jax. Priorities. Katie tells Tom he needs to cut the incessant drinking to the point of blacking out right then and there, and he’s like, “No, you can’t tell me shit.” She actually asked him to do something that would keep him from cheating on her and he said no. He acknowledged that his drinking caused him to do behaviors he never would sober, but he can’t bring himself to stop it, even if his relationship had to suffer because of it. Katie’s right to point out how fucked up that is and storms out of the room and I’m REALLY MAD because you all know how much I hate being on Katie’s side in anything, ever.

Oh, I guess we get the rest of that musical cue because it goes like I WON’T BACK DOWN, I’LL RISE TO THE TOP, RISE, RISE TO THE TOP. Good to get some kind of closure on that, I guess.

We’re at Sexy Unique Restaurant, where Brittany and Jax have arrived together, and Lala’s there for her first day back. Lisa enters the restuarant and immediately is like, “Lala, it’s your last chance,” because Lisa loves to make everything in this show about her.

Brittany goes to ask Jax for a Strawberrini, which sounds as awful as the hangover it likely induces, and Jax asks her if she still wants to have a housewarming party even though their relationship is on thin ice. Brittany doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, but Jax mostly just wants to make sure he can control Brittany’s environments and who she spends time with in order to make sure she sticks around. He’s such a dick, I hate him so much. They’re going to try to have a fun time with their friends. Nothing else.

And that’s when I notice:

ARE THE SILK HANDKERCHIEF UNIFORM DRESSES GONE??????????????????????????

Has the torture finally ended? Katie and Brittany are both wearing black v-neck shirts with gold Sexy Unique Restaurant logos. I think it’s finally occurred. I’m hyperventilating. Katie takes the opportunity to remind us of how awful she is and goes to Lala to ask why she’s talking shit about Katie’s relationship with Tom. And Lala’s like, “Well, Scheana said you were talking shit about my relationship, so I got defensive.” And Classic Katie who loves to blame women for everything doesn’t hold herself accountable for what she said, but instead she gets mad at Scheana for repeat what she said to Lala… and then she apologizes to Lala for saying what she said. Lala tells Katie the entire story of what happened with Tom and her friend and Katie’s upset.

Lala’s the best. Honestly. She could have held this over Katie’s head but as soon as Katie apologized, Lala immediately wanted to tell Katie what she knew and see how Katie was feeling about it all. Some people have issue with Lala’s feminism, but at the end of the day, she really just cares a lot about people in general.

Lisa orders half a glass of rose from Jax at the bar, and Jax pours her an entire glass, because in his 240 years of existence, Jax never once learned what half is, or even how to pour a glass of wine, apparently. Katie sits down with Lisa to talk about what’s going on with Schwartz, and they’re both having second-thoughts. Lisa’s not going to put up with Schwartz’s immature behavior in her business, and she doesn’t think Katie should in her marriage.

The next day, Lisa is wearing her Business Glasses with her pink pussy bow top and Harrison under her arm. She got a ticket and couldn’t charm her way out of it1 and she’s there to compliment Stassi for her job on Guillermo’s party - but that doesn’t mean Stassi’s hit the big time enough to plan a party for Harrison, Lisa’s pomeranian. We wouldn’t want Stassi to get a big head or anything. Stassi tells Lisa about Jax and Brittany’s housewarming for some reason, and they’re both like, “... So are they back together, because they shouldn’t be.” I especially loved when Stassi was like, “I’m anxious and I don’t want to go,” and Lisa was like, “You don’t have to,” and Stassi was like, “Yes I do, I want to watch!” because I am always that girl.

If the likelihood drama is going to go down at your party is high, so is the likelihood I’ll attend. My presence is a present.

Schwartz, Sandoval, and Jax are going to a Paint-and-Sip painting class, and I think it’s funny because Jax used to drink with all the classic painters - Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Da Vinci2 - so this is just something he’s used to. The plan was to have a Hunter S. Thompson-esque day of male debauchery, but that’s turned into a paint and sip class on a Wednesday afternoon where they might do shots. Tom “isn’t drinking” because he doesn’t want to go back to Katie wasted, but that doesn’t stop him from doing a shot of absinthe with the rest of the group.

Okay, admittedly - every Friday for about a year I went to the bar around the corner from my apartment and drank either a beer or a glass of wine along with a shot of tequila. It was my go-to order, and it brought me peace of mind. I’m not completely against the entire concept of shots. But also, it is clearly light enough outside to know it’s the middle of the day and no resepectable adult is taking shots of absinthe at 3:30 in the afternoon, even if it is at a paiting class. Then again, these grown men are painting penises on their painting aprons, so my advice would go in one ear and out the other.

On top of it all, Kristen, Brittany, and Katie are out getting drinks, and they’rea also starting with shots in the middle of the afternoon. Hell, they’re doing what looks like whiskey or Fireball shots. Brittany’s still hopeful that Jax can change on his own despite what her brain is telling her. They go back and forth between Jax and the Toms and Brittany and the Ks’s talking about their respective issues. Jax thinks all Brittany needs is a good dicking down and he’s out of the dog house, Katie wants Tom to stop being Peter Pan, and Tom really thinks this all about what he did, and not the actions that led him to that point. Schwartz won’t admit to doing anytihng, but he can vehemently deny the idea of admitting to doing something because it would be a lie. It makes no sense.

Kristen is so drunk already and she really wants to make sure Katie is okay with Lala being at Brittany’s housewarming party - wait, doesn’t Jax fucking hate Lala? Katie’s okay with Lala being there because Lala isn’t her target anymore - she moved it onto Scheana. Because Katie’s mad that Scheana told Lala about the shit Katie was talking about Lala’s relationship and blurts out that she and Scheana might have more in common than Scheana thinks. Everyone apparently knows that Rob, Scheana’s boyfriend, is making out with other girls. One of the Sexy Unique Restaurant Servers saw Rob making out with another girl at another restaurant and also flat out denying that he even had a girlfriend in the first place.

Oh my god, Scheana’s butt is so flat. Like, I’ve never seen a butt that was both big and flat like hers, it’s so bizarre. Scheana’s in love, though, and she’s preparing for a dinner party with Rob, her dream man2~ Rob has an enormous house in Beverly Hills and Scheana’s having a private chef cook for the two of them and Tom and Ariana3. Tom, Ariana, and Scheana are all looking at Rob like #goals because he’s got this amazing house and a real job that doesn’t have them cleaning up someone’s blood at least 1x a week. Let’s just put it this way - it’s really obvious why Scheana’s interested in Rob. Rob gives a toast that’s going to be put on some fake distressed wood and sold to fifteen year old girls at HomeGoods.

All three of them are salivating over Rob, and Scheana’s letting her I Have A Rich Boyfriend Flag fly. Her thirst is palatable. She makes a dig at Shay and the life they used to have whenever possible and talks about how she and Rob can’t get married for a least a while because she’s still married to someone. She literally has a countdown to her official divorce date.

Considering these two broke up not even five minutes after this episode aired, nothing is surprising.

Back at Katie and Tom’s apartment, he’s brought his painting of Tom Sandoval and lies about drinking within two minutes. Katie tells him that Lisa is pissed at him and he can’t stop joking. He’s not taking any of it seriously, and he’s being a dick. My favorite part of all of is this clearly Tom is doing his self-deprecating under-the-breath thing, and Katie’s just... refusing to engage. She’s holding him accountable for the shit he did when he was drunk and not flying into a rage and thus he looks like an asshole. Which he is, but he’s used to having Bad Gal Katie4 to play off of and be the sympathetic one.

Ariana and Lala are at Sorella, and Ariana’s doing my favorite friend thing wherein which you pull out something tacky and your friend is like “I have that!” It’s happened to me plenty of times. I still laugh at it. Ariana wears a Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century outfit, and I really don’t even udnerstand the kind of aesthetic a person who shops at Sorella is. They talk about the constant cycle of Jax and Brittany - how Jax fucks up, Brittany gets mad, Jax puts on a puppy dog face and winds up rewarded for his bad behavior.

What follows is a great scene between Ariana and Lala, the only two girls I would ever want to mildly associate with on this show. Ariana’s talking about how she’s not interested in any type of sex whatsoever with Tom or anyone else, and a lot of that stems from insecurities from an ex-boyfriend who bodyshamed her5. Men are gross. Lala apparently looks herself in the mirror every single day and thanks each and every part of her body, flaws and all, because you should be thankful and appreciative of what you have. I mean, she’s thankful to her “kitty cat for taking the D like a champ.”

Lala might be this show’s saving grace. She’s so sweet to Ariana in a way that seems genuine.

Katie and Tom bring their dogs, Butter and Gordo6 to Vanderpump Dogs, where Lisa is pretending she works and just so happens to be there. As soon as Tom walks in, she has this face that says I Mean Business and Tom knows he’s in trouble. Basically it’s a chance for Lisa to get some screentime and tell Tom she thinks he’s irresponsible - if he’s getting blackout drunk and cheating on his wife, how is she supposed to trust him with a bar? It’s a reach, but she’s gotta show up one way or another. Tom goes downstairs and expects Katie to feel bad for him but if Lisa’s disappointed, Katie’s definitely disappointed. Tom apologies for upsetting Katie (wrong) and kisses her cheek.

GROW UP TOM. Stop eating Lean Cuisines.

Brittany, Scheana, and Kristen are preparing all kinds of drunken treats for the housewarming party - Jell-O shots, drunken gummy bears, the works. Kristen’s already drunk and sitting on top of the picnic table Brittany and Jax inexplicably decided was a good idea to have in their dining area. Immediately she’s telling Scheana about Rob making out with someone else. Scheana’s immediately skeptical based on the fact that it’s convenient all of this is coming out after two other guys had been accused of doing similar things. She doesn’t buy it because Rob doesn’t even kiss HER.

Oh, Scheana.

Scheana, Scheana, Scheana.

Your boyfriend’s not “not a kisser”, honey. He’s not into you. You’re not going to marry this dude as much as you want to.

The party begins, and James comes with the pair of fake eyelashes on a fuzzy sweater he calls a girlfriend, as well as a cake made up of toilet paper rolls. Lala, meanwhile has brought Patron and wants to celebrate Being Women, something I celebrate evert day. WOMEN ARE GREAT. Again, Lala’s the best.

I love the fact that Katie and Tom, who literally live down the hall, are the last to arrive. I went to a wedding where my date and I were the only people who lived in Brooklyn, where the wedding was, and we were the latest ones. Tom looks discheveled as ever despite pretending he’s an Adult Now, he’s wearing a Mikey Way from My Chemical Romance sweater7. Tom claims he’s done with shots for the time being, which is a lie. Tom’s about to do 100000 shots.

This party would be a disaster with anyone, but with the amount these people drink, they should not be playing Waterfall with shots. Schwartz struggles with not drinking to excess. Oh, hi Peter? We haven’t seen enough Peter this season. Scheana’s literally standing with her phone in front of her face texting Rob about him allegedly making out with another girl and Jax is annoyed by it.

Anyway, everyone is hammered. James and Tom are beatboxing. Jax admits to Carter that he cheated because he wanted the attention, and Jax is like, “I’m finally being HONEST and telling the TRUTH,” and Brittany’s like “why can’t you talk to me?” Lala and Kristen are eavesdropping and Lala wants to rip Jax’s larynx out. Lala is so disturbed by the fact that Jax is yelling at Brittany, and Lala knows that there’s a recording on James’s phone of Jax. Jax saying he’s not going to marry Brittany - ever - and just being a general skeeze.

Because Jax doesn’t deserve any woman, let alone Jax. I love the amount of millenial pink going on in this scene between Lala and Ariana.

Ariana’s wasted and tells Brittany how much she loves her in that really drunken way, but Lala needs Brittany to know what Jax said. Ariana’s so drunk she’s basically crying.

We don’t get to hear the recording, but what’s on it is enough to make Brittany cry... and then seethe. She calls Jax he deserves to rot in hell and it’s literally incredible. Jax thought he was safe.

Next Time: James is back at PUMP! Lisa wants Brittany fired. Tom is pissed at Ariana for taking sides and Ariana’s ready to break up because of it.

Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:

I love the horror movie lighting in Jax/Brittany/Katie/Tom’s apartment building. I thought hallways that creepy only existed on Search Party.

I’m so glad Lala got rid of the trashy nails.

I love that Rob Valletta is actually related to Amber Valletta.

There’s really not enough talk about how emotionally abusive Jax is to Brittany.

I don’t know if I’m buying Brand Spanking New Self Aware Katie.

I’m glad that we’re breaking through some of the Cool Girl Ariana facade and realizing she’s just as messy as all of us.

You know I love Lala when I can forgive her having a rat tail.

She did a running stop, something I also once got a ticket for. Lisa Vanderpump and I are the same. ↩︎

Remember when Scheana had sex with Brandi Glanville’s husband and then tried to both claim it was one time but also she and Brandi were in the same boat because they’d both been cheated on? ↩︎ ↩︎

Bless Tom’s heart for bringing over a bottle of champagne. Had he known what Rob’s lifestyle was, I doubt he would have brought over a gift that people are notoriously snobby about. ↩︎

Forgive me for this, Rihanna. ↩︎

I... do not understand the logic of a man who would be like “you have an ugly vagina”. Why do you care? It’s never going to be your problem. Like, do you really think dicks are the most attractive thing on earth? ↩︎

They don’t deserve dogs that cute. ↩︎

Mikey ain’t shit. ↩︎

#vanderpump rules #i was kinda drunk at the end of writing this #whooooooooops #forgive me rihannaaaaaaa

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