#jane rosen

[aparticularbandit]

Gifts and the Giving Thereof

Eve goes to get things for Jane!  Agatha goes with her!  Jane’s cheating husband might get beat up!  Maybe!  Just a little bit!  Among other things!

tw for homophobia not because jane’s cheating husband is having a bad day but because he is actually homophobic.  this may be why he gets beat up a little bit.  not that we support violence here.  but.

rated t!  for teen!

but, again, this entire series is rated m for mature for sexual content, so uh.  maybe don’t get sucked in just because this chapter is rated t!

Eve shuffles her feet outside of Jane’s house.  She knows she needs to ring the doorbell, although she’d rather knock, knows that she needs to get in and get Jane’s things and get out as quickly as possible.  And yet here she is, standing outside, not wanting to break that barrier.

Mostly because she doesn’t want to talk to Dave.

What’s the problem, hon?  Agatha slings an arm over Eve’s shoulder and gazes down at her.  What’s with the hesitation?

Eve shakes her head.  After…after, she starts, her voice a hush, Ted had all sorts of excuses and reasons for his behavior. He knew that he’d hurt me, but he turned it back on me, said that I’d hurt him by spending so much time away from home, away from him.  Said he’d had needs.  Pointed to that morning as proof that I wasn’t taking care of him.  She stares at the doorknob in front of her, not moving, and feels Agatha’s hand tighten on her shoulder, not uncomfortably.  I don’t know that I can hear his excuses.  Not again.

At first, Agatha doesn’t say anything, and Eve glances up to see that her girlfriend’s eyes have grown dark, that her jaw is set, teeth gritting together. The expression warms her heart. It…probably shouldn’t, but it does. You can’t kill him, she says, although she isn’t sure why she does.  He married her.  They have a kid.  He’s been a good dad to—

You don’t have to defend him to me, hon, Agatha says through gritted teeth.  She swallows, and Eve can see just how hard she tries to force herself to relax. Agatha releases her unintended grip on Eve’s shoulder, takes a deep breath in, and then meets Eve’s eyes.  I’m here with you.  If that jerk gives you any trouble—

He won’t.

Eve has spent too many years with Jane – and, by extension, Dave – to believe that he will give her any trouble.  He won’t.  Dave’s as bad at conflict as Eve herself is, although she would never admit it.  It’s just—

Without another moment’s hesitation, Eve reaches out and rings the doorbell.  If she thinks about it too long, she’ll be standing out here forever – maybe like Agatha, sitting on her doorstep, one knee clutched to her chest, hands clasped atop it, staring up at the stars.  Except that Agatha hadn’t had any reason to be afraid.

     Can we talk?  I…I think we need to talk.

Eve cringes at her own words just as the door starts to crack open and then forces herself to be cool.  She settles just as Dave finishes opening the door.  For all that’s going on, he doesn’t seem to be upset; if anything, the look of utter shame at being caught – at being found out – is all she can see.  Other than that, he looks normal.  She’s never had a dog, but Eve highly suspects this is the sort of look she would have seen if she came home and it had done something bad but she just hadn’t found out what yet, the sort of look that said something was wrong, that he’d done something wrong.

I guess she told you.

Yeah.  Eve nods. I’m just here to grab a few things.

Dave opens the door a little wider.  Then his eyes fall on Agatha where she stands just behind Eve; first, they widen, and then, they narrow.  Who’s she? he asks, gaze dropping down to Eve, his expression of shame turning to one of near anger. Before Eve can even answer, his eyes widen again, and he growls out, canines flashing, voice tight, thin, Is that Agatha Harkness?

Haddington is, fortunately or not, a small town.  Not the smallest town in the world, and maybe not even small enough to really even be considered a small town, but small enough that people know people.  Eve might not have known Agatha’s job or her history, but she knew of the queer couple living in town, of the lesbians.

Knew that sensible people, such as herself, should keep their distance, although that common sense had lessened over the years.

Knew that there were still plenty of parents who felt weird about sending their children to Masters of Dancing Arts to learn from Cian, knew how so many of them had breathed a collective sigh of relief when they died, knew that many of her seniors had felt uncomfortable around Agatha whenever she came with Evanora to any of their events.  She knew these things – knows these things – and yet….

Jane didn’t tell you, Eve says, and she doesn’t have to wonder why. She knows why.  A sigh breaks through her lips, and she fights the instinct to lower head, to react with shame in front of Dave, who should be far more ashamed of his own actions than he might expect Eve to be of her own, when she says, Agatha’s my girlfriend.  She’s here to help.

Moral support, hon.

If they were in the sanctity of Eve’s house, Eve knows Agatha would have leaned forward after saying that, would have kissed her cheek as a physical reinforcement of the words that she’s saying.  But here, on Jane’s front porch, in front of a man who could choose to prevent one or both of them from entering his house, from getting what Eve told Jane she would get, just because they are…just because they are, Agatha does nothing.

Eve fights the instinct to look up, to check her expression, because she has no idea how she is reacting.

Dave’s eyes don’t lift from Eve, and she sees it – that glimmer of judgment, of disapproval – before he schools his face back into its carefully crafted shame. He sighs, and his shoulders hunch the slightest bit forward.  Then he steps back, leaving the entryway open for them.  Come on in, he says, gaze lowered enough that it no longer meets Eve’s eyes.  Get what she sent you for.

Eve walks past him, but she doesn’t miss the look in his eyes as she passes, as Agatha follows behind her.

She shudders.

~

Did she tell you we haven’t had sex in over a year?

Eve’s throat tightens as she hears the words, and her fingers clench on the fabric in her hands.  It’s not that she isn’t comfortable grabbing Jane’s undergarments and stuffing them into a bag – she is; it isn’t like helping her friend out has suddenly changed just because she’s with Agatha now – but she’s definitely uncomfortable with Dave bringing up their sex life while she’s doing it.  Like she would be thinking about that right now.  Like it was any of her business.

(Yes, Jane brought it up a few days before Eve went to Evanora’s funeral; yes, Jane suggested it had been three months instead of over a year; no, Eve couldn’t and wouldn’t judge Jane because it had been three years of a dry spell for her before Agatha – and also it is different when her best friend brings up her sex life and talks about it than when her best friend’s cheating husband brings it up in the form of an accusation.)

It’s none of her business.

And it’s certainly none of Agatha’s business.

Eve’s gaze flicks over to Agatha, who leans against the wall, one arm crossed, staring at one of her black-painted fingernails.  Her girlfriend doesn’t even look up.  She’s paying attention, listening to everything, but she’s acting like she’s not.  Acting cool.  Like Eve should be.

But Eve doesn’t feel a lick of cool.

We didn’t….

She clears her throat.  Tries again.

We didn’t get into the details—

A year’s a long time, you know, Dave interrupts, and Eve takes a deep breath, tries to tune him out the same way Agatha is, and moves from the drawer with Jane’s undergarments to the next one.  Despite her lack of anything to tell him to continue, Dave does.  A person needs to be touched.  I need to be touched.  Is that so wrong?

Agatha doesn’t say anything, but Eve notes the subtle way her entire being tenses.  Her teeth grit together.  Dave, this is between you and Jane.  It’s not any of our—

It’s just that I was kind of going out of my mind, Dave continues, as though Eve hasn’t said anything, and it felt better to…to pay for it than to actually cheat.

Now Eve tenses.  You don’t….  She almost can’t say it, can’t quite get the words out of her mouth in her disbelief, stops what she’s doing to get the words out.  You don’t think that you were cheating?  She turns to him, eyes narrowed – how could he say that?  How could he think that?

But Dave just shakes his head.  No, he says, No, it was…it was mechanical.  I didn’t talk to the person, I didn’t even look at her; it was nothing—

The sound of a slap causes Eve to turn – she hadn’t been looking; she’d been trying not to pay attention, but it’s impossible for her to hear the sound of someone being slapped and not turn – and sees that Agatha has, in what she assumes is one fluid motion but probably wasn’t (but she loves to imagine Agatha moving in the fluid way of motion that she’s used to seeing, that she now knows is likely from her decades of dance)—

How dare you, Agatha growls out, glaring at Dave, nostrils flared, as he covers the red handprint on his cheek, as he works his jaw.  It was nothing – it’s never nothing, you prick – did you even get tested?  Did you even think you might be picking something up from—

Agatha—

Dave glares up at her, teeth gritted together, eyes flashing daggers, his earlier schooled shame dropped entirely.  You don’t even know what you’re—

She gave you a gift! Agatha continues to growl in that low, low, low tone of her voice, but it’s strained. Maybe Dave can’t hear that, but Eve can, and she picks up on it, picks up on the subtle whine belying her anger.

Then Agatha shoves Dave back.  Your wife gave you a gift, and suddenly you decided she wasn’t worthy of you anymore—

Look, lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Dave steps back – backs into the wall – but Agatha doesn’t stop. His gaze grows panicked.  Jane doesn’t even know you, so why are you so—

She gave you her, and you just—

Agatha.  Eve wraps her thumb and forefinger around Agatha’s free wrist and gives her a gentle tug. It would have been easier, and perhaps more fulfilling, to continue to let her girlfriend batter Dave around; she’s lived through Agatha lifting her, but she’s fairly certain Dave isn’t enjoying being lifted by his collar against the wall the same way that she’d enjoyed Agatha pressing her against the wall. (She should remind her to do that again, actually, and to use that low voice with her, but now is, ah, not the time for that.)  Let him go.  It’ll be okay.

At Eve’s voice, Agatha slowly – so slowly – lowers Dave back to the floor.  She lets Eve tug her away from him, but she doesn’t look at her, doesn’t really look at anything.  Still.  It’s not okay, she mutters so low that Eve can barely hear her.  What he did. It’s not okay, hon.

I know.  Eve cups Agatha’s face with one hand.  But you can’t just—

Thank you, Dave says, interrupting them, and when Eve turns, he’s straightening his collar, for muzzling your lesbian.

She doesn’t even think.

~

When she can see straight again, Eve finds herself sitting in the passenger seat of her own vehicle, Agatha sitting in the driver’s seat, the bag she’d been filling with Jane’s things thrown in the back seat.  She blinks, presses her fingers to her suddenly aching forehead, blinks again, and then asks, What…what happened?

Eve, you punched that guy in the dick and then kneed him in the face and then grabbed his hair with both hands, and I dragged you out of there before you could do more than that.  Agatha glances over to her, meets her eyes sternly.  Literally dragged, hon.  I didn’t know you had that in you.

Eve groans and hunches forward.  Jane is going to kill me.

If you tell her.

I can’t just not—  Eve glances up and catches Agatha’s eyes, the mischief there, the slight upturn of her lip with chaos, and cuts herself off.  Sighs.  There are a thousand and one other things she can say – Dave will tell her, for one, although she doesn’t know that Jane will believe him if he does, or Where are we going? because Eve knows the route from her house to Jane’s and back by heart, she’s driven it so many times, and this isn’t it – but none of those are the first things on her lips. She forces herself to sit up, pushes her hands through her wavy hair, and then settles forward before asking, Did you mean all of that?

Agatha pauses, gaze returning to the suburban streets stretched out before them. All of what, hon?

About…about Jane giving Dave a gift, about Dave deciding she wasn’t worthy of him anymore.  Eve’s brow furrows, running through the words, and finds she has a hard time following them.  What did you mean by that?  She glances up again, stares at Agatha.  Did you mean sex?

For a moment – a long moment, a moment much longer than Eve wants it to be but perhaps not the longest moment she’d gotten from Agatha before – Agatha is silent.  Her eyes focus ahead, and the silence is broken only by her blinker as she signals a left turn.  Eve still doesn’t have any idea where they’re going; the streets look familiar, but a lot of the streets around her house look familiar.  Partly because she’s lived in her house for over a decade (Ted hadn’t wanted it, and as much as she wanted to leave, she couldn’t cause the additional upheaval to Brendan after his dad left them and his grandmother died; she wouldn’t); partly because most of Brendan’s friends had lived near them (she’d driven him to their houses most of the time, but when he got older, he’d taken his bike instead; she’d never had the money to buy him a car like he wanted, and he’d been in too many sports to take up a job, unlike (she is not thinking about him right now)); and partly because she has literally lived in Haddington all of her life (she might have gone away for college, but she’d come right back here afterward, started volunteering regularly at the same senior center where she’d volunteered before going to college, and then taken late classes to get her masters so she could get a job there; some people might think this is a tragedy, but she’d never felt like that).

Not entirely, Agatha says finally, hesitant.  She presses her lips together and then says, That’s a conversation for later, dear.

Eve nods, but she can’t help it, can’t help but ask, How much later? in a voice so soft and quiet that she can barely hear herself.

When we stop.  Agatha turns to her, meets her eyes.  I want to be able to see you, hon.

Eve flushes a bright red and averts her eyes.  Where are we going?

The small smile that just began to creep across Agatha’s lips fades as she turns forward again.  Home.

~

Agatha pulls Eve’s car onto a cement driveway, the headlights sweeping across a closed two car garage, a plain yard with an overgrown garden full of dead plants, and a nondescript house that Eve can’t say she’s never seen before.  She can’t say she has seen it either; she’s probably driven past it a few times, but there’s nothing about it that stands out. Where are we? she asks again, staring at the brick skirt, the dirty siding. Why are—

This is home, Agatha repeats again as she settles the car into park. Or it was, once.  She taps her fingers on the steering wheel.  If you need a place to go, hon. A place to get away from everything— She fishes her keys out of one pocket, fiddles with it until she takes one off of the keyring, and then hands it out to her.  Here.  You can have this.  A pause, then, Until I make you one of your own.

Eve holds the rainbow-colored house key in her hand, runs her thumb along the worn down grooves where the coloring has flaked off to expose the metal beneath, and takes a sharp breath in realization.  This is your house, she says, looking up and meeting Agatha’s eyes.  This is where you live.

Agatha smiles fondly and then reaches over, closing Eve’s fingers over the key.  Just don’t….  She hesitates before tucking strands of Eve’s hair back behind her ear. Don’t judge me too harshly for what you might see inside, hon.

What will I see? Eve asks without thinking, but as Agatha’s face falls, she leans across and kisses her cheek.  You don’t have to tell me, she says.  I’ll find out.  She cups Agatha’s face and meets her eyes, searches them.  Thank you.  For this.  You didn’t have to….  She gives a little shake of her head.  Thank you.

Agatha nods.  She doesn’t meet Eve’s eyes, and her brow furrows.  You had something else you wanted to talk to me about, hon, she says, her voice soft.  Didn’t you?

Eve’s eyes widen. She did – does – have something she wanted to talk about.  But this doesn’t seem like an appropriate time to bring up what she’d discovered about Agatha’s—

Oh.  Oh.  Right. She meant—

What did you mean by the gift? Eve asks again, her voice soft, noting how Agatha refuses to look at her.  And…and worthiness?  You don’t just mean sex, do you?

Agatha still doesn’t meet her eyes when she says, voice softer even than Eve’s, No. She tucks strands of her wavy hair back behind one ear and turns so that she stares forward again, as though she intends to start the car again and leave, but instead of placing her hands on the steering wheel, she keeps them clasped in her lap.  Her gaze drops, then, as she says, It…it’s more than that, dear.  It’s…. She bites her lower lip.  Cian….  Again, she hesitates, and her gaze drifts up, to the roof of the car.

Eve finds that, suddenly, she doesn’t want to hear anything Agatha has to say, but also that she can’t find it within herself to make her stop.

Cian told me once that…that every moment you choose to spend with another person, that’s…it’s a gift that you’re giving to them, Agatha says, struggling to put it into words as she does – so clearly struggling in her pauses that Eve catches it, and yet still, she does not stop her.  That when you are with another person, you are giving them the gift of your time – a gift of…of you, if you will.  Her brow furrows.  Sex is like that, too; when you have sex with someone, you’re giving them the gift of yourself.  And every time you are giving them these gifts, you’re saying that…that they’re worthy of it.  She hesitates, but when she speaks again, her voice is suddenly more firm.  Of you.

Eve wants to argue with it, but before she can, Agatha lets out a sudden puff of air.  Sorry, dear.  I’m sure that doesn’t make a lick of sense.

It does, Eve says hesitantly, in a way.  She runs through what Agatha’s said again, her brain more than a little full from everything that has already happened, slowly picking it apart.  But most people…most people don’t think like that. Dave might have thought Jane was a gift a long time ago, but—

That doesn’t change anything, dear, Agatha interrupts, and her interlaced fingers clench, tightening her hands into one little fist.  It doesn’t matter if anyone is thinking about it or not; it just is—

Hey.  Eve reaches over, but when she brushes her fingers against Agatha’s cheek, Agatha flinches away.  Her lips press together as her fingers slowly curl away.  She slowly, gingerly places her hand over Agatha’s instead and rubs her thumb soothingly along her skin.  I’m right here.

Agatha bites her lower lip and gives a stilted sort of nod.

I agree with you, Eve says hesitantly.  It doesn’t matter what he thinks.  He hurt Jane. You’re right.  She’s still not sure exactly what Agatha means by worthy, even though she’d explained it, but she can offer comfort like this. Reassuring her.  She’s…she’s good at that.  Jane is always a gift.  Always. A part of her – the part that remembers her bachelorette party and the stripper Jane hired – wants to argue with that, but she won’t.  Oddly, this isn’t about Jane. It’s about Agatha, and something she can’t see and doesn’t know.  Some other hurt.

Slowly, Agatha’s hands come undone from each other, and she curls one up, interlacing her fingers with Eve’s instead.  Thank you, hon.  I shouldn’t have snapped at you.

It’s okay, Eve lies.  I’m not mad at you.  Which isn’t a lie.  She isn’t mad.  Just confused.  Feeling as though she’s missing something.  Something important.  Something to do with Cian, probably, but she shoves that idea down deep.  She’s not going to think about Cian right now.  (It’s impossible not to think about Cian right now, and how she isn’t them, and how they would be doing better here.) Instead, she offers Agatha the most comforting smile she has as soon as Agatha looks up and then says, gentle as anything, I love you.  That means not being mad when you snap at me.

Agatha raises an eyebrow.  I’m not sure that’s what that means, hon.

Of course, it does. Eve’s smile doesn’t slip, even when Agatha doesn’t turn to her with that raised eyebrow, even when she keeps her eyes trained on the hands in her lap – both of her own, the one tangled with Eve’s. It only slips when Eve recognizes – realizes – and asks, hesitant, Agatha…is that…is that how you thought of me?  Of what…of what you were doing with me?

Agatha licks her lips and then slowly nods.  Yes, she murmurs.  Every time.

Eve takes a rough breath in, thinking back over all of their interactions, over their first interaction.  So when you…when you left that first time, that meant—

No, Agatha interrupts, head snapping up, turning to stare at Eve.  No, dear.  You were always worthy.  Always. I just wasn’t—  She reaches over and with her free hand brushes her fingers through Eve’s hair.  I wasn’t ready.  I gave you what I could, I—

Eve cuts her off with a kiss.  For a moment, she can feel it – the way Agatha freezes against her, shocked – and she hesitates, starts to draw back with apologies on her lips, just the same way she had the first time they kissed, until Agatha’s fingers tighten in her hair, until she pulls Eve back against her with a soft parting of her lips. Eve hums against her, squeezes her hand in hers, and then parts from her, brushing their noses together.  I love you, too, she murmurs, then, realizing what she said, startles, and looks up through her lashes with wide eyes to meet Agatha’s wider ones.  That’s not…that’s not what you meant, I’m sorry, I’m—

Agatha covers Eve’s lips with her finger and holds her gaze until Eve’s words sputter out.  What was that for, hon? she asks into the silence, as though she hadn’t heard anything Eve just said.

What was what for? Eve asks around Agatha’s finger.

The kiss.

Eve smiles, gaze lowering, and presses a gentle kiss to Agatha’s fingertip as she moves it away.  It was a gift, she says, choosing her words carefully, because I decided you were worthy of it.

One corner of Agatha’s lips curves upward.  Exactly.  She leans forward and kisses Eve again.

~

Eve barely has time to shut her front door behind her and hang her purse on its hook before Jane calls out, Dave says you punched him in the nuts?

I plead the fifth, Eve groans out as she heads toward the sound of Jane’s voice and finds her curled up in her guest room.  She holds one of the duffel bags up in the air.  These are yours.  I fought a real dirtbag for them, so—

Jane’s brow furrows as she stares at her phone, and then she glances up and meets Eve’s eyes. You took Agatha with you?

Eve lets out an exasperated sigh and drops the duffel bags onto the floor just inside the guest room door.  I thought you weren’t talking to him.

I wasn’t.  Jane scowls and crosses her arms.  Until the whole punched in the dick thing.

He deserved it, Eve says as she climbs in bed next to her friend.  Still deserves it.  When Jane leans her head against her chest, she begins to run her fingers gentle through her hair.  I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Jane shakes her head.  No, you wouldn’t.  You don’t punch people.  She glances up, almost in awe.  You really did that?  For me?

Eve hesitates. Then she nods once, with a little smile about her lips.  

Of course, she says, finally.  Think of it as a gift.

#bandit fic #agave fic #agatha harkness #eve fletcher #jane rosen #dave rosen #eve fletcher x agatha harkness #agatha harkness x eve fletcher #agave #mrs. fletcher #mcu

[smbhax]

From "The Invasion of the Lava Men!" in The Avengers #5, May 1964. Stan Lee script, Jack Kirby pencils & co-plot, Paul Reinman inks, Stan Goldberg(?) colors, Sam Rosen letters.

#the invasion of the lava men #the avengers #the avengers 5 #avengers #marvel #marvel comics #jane foster #thor #donald blake #doctor #nurse #jack kirby #paul reinman #sam rosen #news #comic #comics #comic book #comic books #comic panel #comic panels #romance #blushes #blushing #stan lee

[comicwaren]

From Night Thrasher Vol. 2 #001, “Don’t Call It a Comeback”

Art by Nelson Dániel and Matt Milla

Written by J. Holtham

#night thrasher #dwayne taylor #silhouette chord #michael janes #walter rosen #gai no don #ezra ikolo #the o.g. #elvin haliday #marvel #comics #marvel comics

[comfortfoodcontent]

Selected scenes from The Amazing Spider-Man Vol. 1 #166

Writer(s) Len Wein Penciler(s) Ross Andru Inker(s) Mike Esposito Colorist(s) Glynis Wein Letterer(s) Joe Rosen

#war of the reptile-men #len wein #ross andru #mike esposito #glynis oliver #joe rosen #peter parker #spider-man #comfort food spider-man #the lizard #curt connors #stegron #stegron the dinosaur man #christmas #merry christmas #christmas comics #marvel #marvel comics #comics #mary jane watson #harry osborn #liz allen #flash thompson #martha connors

[whatmakesagod]

#lc rosen #emmett #retelling #jane austen #ya romance #queer literature #young adult romance #young adult literature

[egoschwank]

al things considered — when i post my masterpiece #1160

first posted in facebook february 26, 2023

yun-fei ji -- "nine women" (2006)

"nine women, one dress" ... jane l. rosen

"i try to mimic the method that underlies the formation of early chinese characters: i invent forms that are like words to describe the world" ... yun-fei ji

"i'm as pale as a ghost holding a blossom on a stem you ever seen a ghost? no but you've heard of them" ... bob dylan

"when your heart is already spoken for, though, it's hard to give it to someone else" ... jane l. rosen

"i use ghost stories as metaphors because it's an easy way to satirize human problems and issues" ... yun-fei ji

"i plunder passages for mentalphors to haunt thoughts because it's an easy way to mistake memories for ghosts" ... al janik

#yun-fei ji #nine women #jane l. rosen #nine women one dress #chinese characters #the world #bob dylan #pale as a ghost #heart #ghost stories #metaphors #mentalphors #memories #al things considered

[m1ghtythor]

I just don’t get how people can be so mean to some female characters. Like what’s the point of hating on them continuously?

People started calling Kamala crazy and obsessed because she met her idol, she was pretty excited (who wouldn’t BE?!), but when Peter Parker behaved the same way towards Tony everyone was like: “Omg!! He’s such a cute baby🥺🥺 They have a father-son relationship! So cute uwu!”. LIKE???!!!?!

Another example, Starlord singing and dancing in front of the enemy: “Oh my gosh!! So quirky!! Chris Pratt is the best🤣” . Jennifer Walters/SheHulk twerking with Megan Thee Stallion: “Mcu is in shambles” “This is what feminists like” “Cringe”

Again, Jane Foster has been called annoying, bitchy, or USELESS since 2011 (she only an astrophysicist who proved the existence of the einstein-rosen bridge, won a nobel prize, she’s the reason Thor is part of the avengers, and she’s also a cutie, nothing serious.) She was also called evil, you know by who? Fans of the same guy who took New York as hostage killing millions of people, yeah. She’s a bitch because Frigga died defending her, of course!!! It’s not (partially) Loki’s fault for showing the Dark Elves the fastest way out of the cells. (And I’m saying this as a Loki fan)

I could go on and on talking about Riri as the new ironman or Miguel O’Hara fans hating on Spider-Gwen. (OR LITERALLY THE WHOLE INTERNET ISSUE WITH BRIE LARSON/CAPTAIN MARVEL FOR SOME REASON?!!?)

You have all the rights to dislike a character, just don’t be sexist and incoherent, it’s easy. Why would you hate women for the same reason you love those men?

#jane foster #kamala khan #captain marvel #jennifer walters #she hulk #ironheart #spider gwen #brie larson #the marvels

[boobsperv01]

my fav pornstars (in no particular order)

alexis fawx

shyla stylez

kendra lust

jasmine jae

rachel starr

maserati xxx

priya rai

holly halston

danielle derek

bridgette b

richelle ryan

canela skin

romi rain

sienna west

jayden james

brandy talore

riley reid

jewels jade

jada stevens

karma rx

bella bellz

diamond jackson

moriah mills

ryan conner

ava addams

lisa ann

eliza ibarra

august taylor

kianna dior

alura jenson

nikki benz

amy anderssen

mia malkova

eva notty

sensual jane

daphne rosen

rose monroe

alia janine

abella danger

gianna dior

blondie fesser

sara retali

victoria june

violet myers

sybil stallone

summer brielle

katie kox

alanah rae

lela star

melissa moore

alyssa lynn

autumn falls

valerie kay

diamond kitty

jynx maze

summer sinn

giselle marie

remy lacroix

reena sky

daniela hansson

ava devine

carmella bing

ava koxxx

amber alena

#boobsperv #list

[gleamer]

I have this incredibly useless list of my ocs’ social media handles

Jane Heller: @/iaminheller get it? 😃 what a jokester

Johnny Heller: @/raiseheller get it? x2

Evelyn Kang: @/evilyn she actually is a very evil lil c***

Lucki Kang: @/lucki_kang …… IF HE WERE COOL, it’d be @/unlucky probably

Lisa Ahane: @/lisaaaaa she kept adding a’s until the username wasn’t taken

Rudy Rosen: @/therudest couldn’t resist

Xander Aldava: @/xanderfuckingaldava how does he do everything so angrily

Marcus Cain: @/MARCUS this guy…….

Benjamin Ahane: @/nimajneb ah yes, Nimaj Neb

Donny Pierce: @/donovanpierce okay government name!!!

Kim (Kimo) Orzel: @/kimoo her favorite animals are cows 🐮

Cindy Holliday: @/yourholliday very corny, but she’s corny

Isao (Gash) Kang: @/gashkang BOOORING. god i hate this family

#i love doing shit like this when im bored #g*

[riverpancakes]

an even more updated list of my ever after high ocs

Aurora Beauty II, daughter of Briar Beauty

Rosaline Beauty, daughter of Daring Charming and Rosabella Beauty

Hareison "Hari" Blanc, son of Bunny Blanc

Fairest Charming, daughter of Apple White and Darling Charming

Gryphon Charming, son of the King of Nottingham

Halcyon Charming, son of the King of Nottingham

Merciful "Merc" Charming, son of Apple White and Darling Charming

Ranidae "Rani" Croakington, son of Hopper Croakington III

Thomas Darling, son of Jane Darling

Charity Doll, daughter of Clara from the Nutcracker

Autumn Ella, daughter of Ashlynn Ella and Hunter Huntsman

Bess Eller, the new narrator being mentored by Brooke Page

Maybelle Fairy, replacement for Tinkerbell

Nixie Goodfairy, daughter of Farrah Goodfairy

Chamomile Hatter, duaghter of Madeline Hatter

English Breakfast "E" Hatter, son of Madeline Hatter

Lavender Hatter, daughter of Madeline Hatter

Regius Hearts, son of Lizzie Hearts

Carmine Hood, son of Cerise Hood

Falcon Hood, son of Sparrow Hood

Ruby Hood, daughter of Cerise Hood

Rufous Hood, son of Cerise Hood

Murphy Hook, son of Captain Hook

Fletcher Huntsman, son of Ashlynn Ella and Hunter Huntsman

Flaxen Lockes, son of Blondie Lockes

Sunny Lockes, daughter of Blondie Lockes

Psyche Lovebird, daughter of C.A. Cupid

Coastine Mermaid, daughter of Meeshell Mermaid

Angelica O'Hair, daughter of Holly O'Hair

Rosen O'Hair, son of Holly O'Hair

Pipsqueak "Pip" Pan, daughter of Peter Pan

Bella Queen, daughter of Raven Queen and Dexter Charming

Allison Wonderland, daughter of Alistair Wonderland

Oakley Wood, daughter of Cedar Wood

#ever after high ocs #eah ocs #ocs #original characters #ever after high next gen #eah next gen #ever after high #oc #oc list #STOP LETTING ME MAKE OCS

[goodmemory]

Jane Rosen - Step Ladder

[aparticularbandit]

Jane is visiting Eve and that causes some problems woo!

and by problems, we mean problems.

tw for homophobia because jane's having a very bad day and expresses it in a very poor way.

rated t! for teen!

but the series is rated m for mature for sexual content, so maybe don’t get sucked into it just because this chapter is rated t!

Agatha’s call comes just as Eve sits Jane down with a mug of hot lemon ginger tea.

Jane hasn’t said much, but Eve remembers that, remembers not wanting to say anything at all, remembers wanting to get as far from Ted as humanly possible (and being in a situation that – due to Brendan and her own mother’s death – forced her to be with him far more than she ever wanted).  She doesn’t force Jane to say anything at all, just makes the tea, sets it down in front of her with a comforting hand on her shoulder, and then—

Is that…is that your phone?

Eve flinches and pulls it out from her pocket.  Sorry, it’s…it’s Agatha, she says, meeting Jane’s eyes with an awkward expression.  She starts to shove the phone back in her pocket.  I can talk to her later.

No, no, you can answer it.  Jane waves a hand dismissively, resting her head in her other hand and staring morosely into her mug of tea.  She lets out a sigh.  Just remind me to….  She snorts.  Your ringtone is so bad.

It’s the default!

It’s enough, though, to see Jane smile, even for the briefest of moments.

Eve flips her phone open as she walks into the other room, one arm crossing just under her chest.  Agatha?

You called, Agatha says as soon as she hears Eve’s voice, the faintest hint of something that Eve refuses to believe is panic tinging her voice.  In the background, she can hear the quiet purr of Agatha’s car, which she knows means it’s just zooming from wherever Agatha has been (likely not the Scratching Post, which isn’t open quite this early) to wherever she’s going. You said we needed to talk?

Eve winces.  I…I did, she admits, pressing her lips together and glancing briefly over her shoulder.  But, um.  I can’t right now.

Agatha isn’t standing in front of her.  They’re on the phone.  But still, Eve can picture it, Agatha’s eyes widening, brows creeping up nearly to her hairline, as she says, You asked me to come over, hon.  Did something change?

Jane’s here.  Eve bites her lower lip, lowers her voice, and steps further away from the table, where Jane still sits, staring into her mug of tea, still not drinking any of it.

So…you want me to come by…later?

Eve’s eyes shift, not that Agatha can see it.  Jane’s going to be here for, ah, a while.

There’s silence on the other end, filled only by the gentle purr of Agatha’s car. Then, finally, How long a while, hon?

She’s….  Eve takes a deep breath and lets it out.  It’s a complicated situation, but Jane’s going to be living here.  For, um. She glances back to Jane again and sighs, a corner of her lips curling up ever so slightly, fond as can be.  For as long as she needs.

Silence again, followed by another deep sigh – this time, not one of hers.  I think you’re right, dear, Agatha says, finally.  We really do need to talk.  Another pause.  I’ll be by later, babe.

Agatha—

But the phone call ends before Eve can say anything else.  She sighs again, staring at her phone, and then turns back to Jane.  Her lips force themselves into a gentle, comforting expression, and she silences her phone before shoving it back into her pocket.  So, she says, walking back over and curling up into the wooden chair across from Jane, is your tea too hot?

No, no, Jane says again, not realizing she’s repeating herself. She heaves a bigger sigh even than Agatha’s and then holds out her hand.  C’mon, give me your phone.  I’ll help you set up something better than that default trash.  She glances up just enough to offer Eve a smile behind watery eyes, and Eve….

Eve can’t tell her no.

~

It takes a few minutes of going through the other ringtones loaded on the phone before Eve finds one that she kind of sort of likes – she likes the default, or maybe it’s just that she’s so used to it at this point that she’s grown attached to it, even if she didn’t initially like it – and then Jane brings up how her daughter taught her to make her own ringtones and load them, at which point Eve realizes she could have a Smiths ringtone, and that just blows the default and all other ringtones out of the water.  She rushes to her bedroom, stops only to open her laptop and close out her browser (she’s had enough embarrassment over Agatha finding her porn; she’s not sure she wants Jane to see it, too), and then returns to the kitchen table with excitement. I’ve got a few songs on here; I haven’t gotten a lot of them digitally, but, um.

Jane holds Eve’s phone in one hand and asks off-hand, So how did you…with Agatha, how did that….  She hesitates, then tries again.  How did that happen?  Then she glances up, meets Eve’s eyes, and then lets her gaze shift past her.  To anyone else, it would look like Jane is still staring straight at her, but Eve knows better.  Eve sees.

And yet.

Um.

Eve tucks strands of her wavy dark hair back behind one ear as she scoots into the chair just next to Jane, laptop forgotten as she holds it against her chest the way an indoor kid holds a book when they’re forced outside for recess.  It just….  She thinks about it, doesn’t know what to say.  It just kind of happened.  Her voice grows soft, and her lips curve in a soft, soft smile.  I don’t…I don’t know how it happened.  It just....

As she speaks, Eve remembers their first not-date, remembers the bar after Evanora’s funeral and Agatha wetting her finger so that she could draw the same whine from the rim of her glass that Agatha did, remembers the embarrassment of mistakenly kissing Agatha and running away, remembers the heat of Agatha chasing her down and pressing her against an alleyway wall as she kissed her, remembers Agatha leaving her confused, remembers Don’t worry, pet. / I like to finish what I start. and being so turned on again just by the texts that—

Eve flushes a bright red, eyes averted, and says, unable to keep the fondness out of her voice, It just did.

She didn’t come on to you, did she? Jane asks, breaking through the slight spell of memory and causing Eve to flinch.  She flips Eve’s phone open and then closed again, avoiding Eve’s eyes.  I mean, you’re not like that, so she shouldn’t have been flirting with you.  That’s gross.

For a moment, Eve sits there, trying to parse through Jane’s words.  Her brow furrows.  What?

I mean, queer girls shouldn’t be flirting with straight girls.  Jane’s eyes narrow.  It’s weird.  She continues to avoid Eve’s gaze, just staring at the phone still in her hands like that means something, like it means something.

Eve hears the words.  She knows she hears them. But they’re not making any sense.  Jane isn’t making any sense. She blinks twice, as if that will clear up the issue, but it doesn’t.  I’m not like what?

Like….  Jane gives a little shake of her head.  Like her.  She finally looks up and stares at Eve with the sort of expression that says she doesn’t understand how Eve doesn’t understand what she’s saying.

And maybe, if they’d had this conversation a few months ago, Eve would have. Maybe she would have even agreed with her. A few months ago, she wouldn’t have thought she was anything like Agatha, or she would have, just that barest of inklings jiggling the back of her mind, that reminder of just how gorgeous Cian and Agatha were whenever she saw them at Natural Grocers, but she never would have said that.  She wouldn’t have thought of herself as…as like them.  As the same.

But—

Jane.  I am like her.  I’m….  Eve’s brow furrows even deeper.  I’m dating her.  She doesn’t know how else to say it, doesn’t know how to explain it, doesn’t know how to put it into words that Jane will understand because she doesn’t get how Jane doesn’t understand.  Or maybe she does get it, because if their roles were reversed, she’d probably be acting the same way as Jane is, only without the thinly veiled disgust towards Agatha.  (She hopes.) Agatha’s my girlfriend.  I’m exactly like—

Yeah, but this is just a phase, isn’t it? Jane asks, tapping one manicured nail against Eve’s phone, focusing on it again and not on Eve.  You’re not actually going to—

Jane, I love her—

You loved Ted, too, and look how that turned out.

Then she gets it.

Eve’s breath catches in the back of her throat.  Tears prick the corner of her eyes.  She’s always cried so easy, but that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing now.  When she gets hurt, she’s allowed to cry.  Her eyes search the woman in front of her – her best friend, the best friend she’s ever had, other than (she isn’t thinking about him), the one who was there with her when everything with Ted and her mom happened, who has made sure every year to help distract her from the depression that sinks in on the anniversary of her discovery (other than this year, which she’s starting to think has more to do with Jane’s current situation than anything else)—

This isn’t about her.

It isn’t about her at all.

Eve reaches a hand over and places it on Jane’s shoulder.  You love Dave, too, she says, giving her a gentle squeeze, her voice just as gentle.

Jane breaks.

~

Eve spends another couple of hours with Jane.  They don’t say much mostly because they don’t need to say much.  She just sits with her best friend while she cries, offering her more tea when she finishes her first mug, this time changing out the lemon ginger for honey vanilla chamomile to help soothe her.

After Jane finishes crying, eyes rimmed with red; after she returns from blowing her nose, from splashing her face with cold water; after she fiddles around with Eve’s phone and computer (raises one eyebrow at the long list of porn sites in Eve’s browser history, but doesn’t say anything about it (yet)) until she’s changed Eve’s ringtone to one that Eve likes much better than the default, she swallows once, hands the phone back, and says, Could you….  She hiccups, tries again.  I didn’t take anything with me, and I don’t want to go back there.

Just let me know what you need, Eve murmurs, meeting Jane’s still red eyes with a gentle smile, and I’ll go get it for you.

Right before she leaves, Jane says, almost so soft that Eve can’t hear her, I’m sorry.  She doesn’t even look up.  For what I said.  Agatha…she seems really nice.

She is.  That fond smile comes back, tracing Eve’s lips.  She really is.

~

Of course, that smile freezes and then fades when Eve walks outside and finds Agatha sitting on her front steps, hands clasped on her knees, staring up at the star-covered sky.  Then she takes a deep breath in and steps forward, sits down next to Agatha, and then rests her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.  Funny seeing you here.

Told you I’d be by later, babe. Never said I’d come inside.

Eve turns just enough to kiss Agatha’s cheek.  Do we have to talk right now?

No.  Agatha’s head lowers, and she glances over to Eve.  Is your friend doing okay, dear?  Her eyes search Eve’s, pools of sunlight in the crowding darkness.

Eve considers, wets her lips, and then lets her gaze drop.  She can’t say it.  So instead, she just shakes her head, a very clear, nonverbal no.

As she shakes her head, Agatha’s fingers wind through the hair at the nape of her neck then stroke her skin very gently.  Do you need me to go?

Eve hesitates and then shakes her head again.  Stay with me, she murmurs, voice soft, as she curls closer to her.  Please.

As long as you want me, dear.  Agatha kisses her forehead.  As long as you need me.

#bandit fic #agave fic #agatha harkness #eve fletcher #jane rosen #agatha harkness x eve fletcher #eve fletcher x agatha harkness #agave #mrs. fletcher #mcu #wandavision #i'm so tired y'all #so tired #all that coding stuff just #TT.TT #i'll figure something out after i've slept maybe

[smbhax]

From "Giants Walk the Earth!" in Journey Into Mystery #104, May 1964. Stan Lee script, Jack Kirby pencils, Chic Stone inks, Sam Rosen letters. Original colorist unknown. Photoshop color reduction.

#giants walk the earth #journey into mystery #journey into mystery 104 #marvel #marvel comics #jane foster #odin #hypnotism #waiting room #doctor's office #comic #comics #stan lee #jack kirby #chic stone #sam rosen #comic book #comic books #comic panel #comic panels #nurse

[augustnightsadrift]

When Jane had a little too much to drink, she got chatty. Not chatty about pop culture or personal troubles, but...

"So, do you have any interest in physics? Astrophysics, in particular?" Maybe she should have followed up her glass of wine with something lighter, instead of another glass of wine, considering chances were very great that the person beside her had zero interest in either. It didn't help that she'd awoken in London - no memories of a life that had clearly been built for her, and after nearly a week of long hours in her classroom, was feeling the ramifications. "I'm an astrophysicist - WELL, here I'm apparently a physics professor, but that's neither here nor there - and I've been exploring the possibility that we've all been pulled here through Einstein-Rosen Bridge."

@walstarterblog

#j. foster #wal: starter #tw: alcohol

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork and J&R Music World staff, 1995.

“The J&R Music World staff rallied around Peter Tork as the former Monkee visited the lower Manhattan superstore to promote his new album, ‘Stranger Things Have Happened’ on Beachwood Records. Shown, from left, are Loren Polans, J&R manager; Jim Drzik, J&R assistant manager, pop store; Jay Rosen, J&R assistant manager, pop store; Doug Diaz, J&R head music boyer; Rich Kueton, J&R indie buyer; Charlie Bagarozza, J&R store manager; Mary Jane Glaser, J&R video buyer; Tork; Sue Vovsi, J&R GM; Baby Rupnarain, J&R marketing; and Burt Goldstein, president of Big Daddy, which distributes the Tork album.” - Billboard, July 22, 1995

A fan shared a photo from this event on Twitter, here.

"[W]e would hang out, and I said, ‘Peter, I noticed that all the other Monkees have solo albums. Why don’t you have a solo album?’ And he said, ‘Well, I just never got around to it.’ I said, ‘Well, you know, I have a label, I have national distribution, and I have a studio.’ I said, ‘Why don’t we make a record and we’ll try, you know, we’ll shop it to the majors and if nobody picks it up, we can still put it out on my label. So there’s no doubt about it, we’re making a record that’s coming out.’ And he said, ‘Okay.’ So we worked on it about four months, and at the end of the four months, he said, ‘You know what, James? I don’t want to shop it. I want it on your label.’" - James Lee Stanley, Tales of the Road Warriors, March 2019 (x)

"‘I want some ambiguity — not straight moon-June-spoon-lovey-dovey,’ Tork says of his music." - Chicago Tribune, January 19, 1996 (x)

Q: “Why, after all this time, do we finally have the first Peter Tork CD?” Peter Tork: “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I have ever put one out? Oh, you mean why did it take me so long? I don’t exactly know… I needed James and he couldn’t help as long as I lived in the San Francisco Bay area. That’s one thing. I suppose, too, that until recently, I wasn’t equipped psychologically.” - Beachwood Confidential Newsletter, 1995 (x)

“My personal thanks to James, I have my first album, after all these many moons. How far freakin’ out, man. I waited a long time to work with him again. Thanks beyond words, buddy. Thanks, too, to those who stuck by me. Love to all, Peter” - Stranger Things Have Happened 1994 liner notes (x)

#Peter Tork #Stranger Things Have Happened #1995 #90s Tork #Tork quotes #Tork fan photos #<3 #long read #Tork songs #James Lee Stanley #thank you endlessly to James for making Peter's solo album a reality #Billboard Magazine #Tales of the Road Warriors #Beachwood Confidential Newsletter #Chicago Tribune #can you queue it

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

Do we ever learn where this thing comes from?

Like, did Thor bring the blue prints from Asgard?

(Did he brin Lokis shackles? Are they magic dampening or is he humoring him?)

Did Jane Foster build that thing?

Did Eric Selvig?

Did Tony Stark?

Was it a joined venture?

Jane bringing in her knowledge of Einstein–Rosen bridges

Eric bringing in residue knowledge of the Tesseract and how to build a portal generator?

Tony having enough engeneering knowledge and resources to build a mashine that could do what Jane and Eric specefied it needed to do?

Did Loki cooperate 200% and tell them how to build it because he had a vested interest to be on the OTHER side of Asgards dungeon walls wenn Thanos arrived in the nine realms and they just kind a trusted him?

I have questions!

#avengers assemble #avengers (2012) #Tesseract #portal generator