#Axl is the second person she interacts with in her story mode and he's already shooting his shot omg-

[golden-stag]

Ah.

I see I-no and Axl flirting started really early on in the series-

[alwaysspeakshermind]

Top 5 Anti-Varchie Arguments & Why They Make No Sense

#2: “Varchie’s too rushed/forced/there’s no development.”

[Note: this is one of the arguments that really grates my cheese, because the refuting evidence is so! Very! Obvious! that I don’t even know how anyone can bring themselves to actually use it. So be warned...this post is long. Also, it definitely jumps around a bit, because I was in a serious ‘Really, dude? Really?’ mood when I wrote it, and upon calmer reflection, I decided to remove a few overly sarcastic things I put down in the heat of the moment and add a couple of clarifications so it doesn’t sound like I’m trying to insult anything I’ve no intention of insulting.]

Varchie’s too rushed? Varchie’s too forced? Varchie has no development?

Yeah, no.

I’m trying to not lose all pretense of tact here, but this falls in the “anyone saying this must be too young to grasp the concept of abstract reasoning because people cannot possibly be this dumb” type of arguments.

Because again...no.

NOOOOOOOOOO.

Since the beginning of the series, Archie and Veronica have been Riverdale’s best-developed couple. (Yes, even better than Bughead, who, no shade whatsoever because this is by no means a post meant to disparage one of the other three pairings I’m 100% on board with in this show, didn’t even interact in the pilot), and anyone with more than an ounce of common sense can recognize that. Even if they hate it with every fiber of their being and wish it weren’t true—it’s true.

Development (particularly that of the onscreen relationship variety) does not fall in the category of artistic elements that lend themselves to subjective interpretation. It is a technical, structural element, meaning it is either there, or it’s not, and deliberately ignoring or refusing to acknowledge its existence does not render it null and void. Though they are the first of the canon couples to kiss onscreen, Varchie is also the only ship on the show that takes longer than two or three somewhat-romantic interactions to begin a relationship.

No, seriously. 

Give it a second and really think about it…

In six episodes, how many the-average-person-would-recognize-this-as-romantic times do Betty and Jughead interact before they kiss and begin a romantic relationship? [Note: and by “the average person,” I mean “would even your clueless dad who would probably rather be watching something else instantly recognize this as a Definite Romantic Moment™?”]

How many times in twelve episodes do Cheryl and Toni interact at all before romance is inarguably hinted at [in 2x14; 2x14 is where their half-second interactions become more than fanon and the average viewer learns what most of the rest of us already knew anyway]? 

How many times do Alice and FP interact at all in ten episodes (the point when people suddenly decided they had an entire romantic history and “needed to be put together”), and how many times do they interact after that before they begin whatever kind of relationship it is they have?

How many times do Kevin and Joaquin interact at all, period in one episode before beginning a romantic relationship? 

How many times do Kevin and Moose interact in thirteen episodes before beginning a romantic relationship? 

How many times in one and a half seasons do Kevin and Fangs interact at all, period before beginning a romantic relationship? 

How many times do Archie and Val interact at all, period in six episodes before beginning a romantic relationship? 

How many times in two and a half seasons do Archie and Josie interact at all, period before beginning a romantic relationship? 

How many times in two and a half seasons do Veronica and Reggie interact at all, period before beginning a romantic relationship and how many of those scenes also include Archie? 

(I’d also mention Josie and Reggie, but apparently I’m the only one who remembers that pairing. And also Josie and that summer fling “relationship,” but I’m kind of still trying to block that one from my mind because it really horrifies me that my girl kissed a dude who looks like he pours axle grease on his hair every morning, walks around wearing plaid shirts with cutoff sleeves like Larry the Cable Guy, but still has the nerve to whine publicly about her not wanting it to be anything more, so I won’t.)

But, etc., etc. You get the picture.

This is not, of course, to hurl accusations of “worthless!” at any of the above-mentioned ships or those who ship them; it’s just an example used to illustrate the following point:

If any or all of those pairings seem[ed] cute/promising/full of potential and/or not rushed or forced to you when none of them were so much as hinted at in the pilot (and the show goes for long periods of time without those characters even sharing screentime, let alone actual interactions or even glances), Varchie shouldn’t either. 

Especially in light of the fact that Varchie has a stronger romantic buildup in one episode than most teen couples get in three.

For instance:

Varchie Development In 1x01

Diner scene: Archie and Veronica meet at Pop’s and the romantic interest on both sides is made obvious from the beginning.

School Hall scene: Walking with Betty and Kevin, Veronica spots Archie, asks about him, and makes her interest in him explicitly known (“In that case, mind putting in a word?”) once Betty says “we’re just friends.”

Lunch scene: Veronica immediately addresses Archie regarding the song he’s playing, and Archie surreptitiously checks Veronica out  (it’s quick, but he does. If you don’t believe me, go back and watch Archie during that scene while keeping in mind where Veronica’s at.)

Invitation-to-the-dance scene: Veronica calls Archie over from practice in order to give Betty a prime opportunity to finally ask him out, and Archie pays more attention to Veronica during the conversation—jogging over right away, smiling at her, even agreeing to go to a dance he’s indifferent to because Veronica jokingly insists and agrees to come with him and Betty. Also, “Archiekins,” Veronica’s pet-name-of-choice (besides “Lover”) for Archie in the comics, makes it first appearance.

Dance scene: Veronica jokes about how Archie needs to drop the fine arts/sports question for a night so they can all have fun, Archie refers to her as Ronnie for the first time and tells her he’s trying. Veronica teasingly tells him to work faster, and Archie watches her leave with a look similar to the one he wore in the diner when they first met.

Seven Minutes In Heaven scene: As soon as Archie’s name is suggested, Veronica looks his way, and she visibly leans forward to watch the bottle make its selection. Although it does not “clearly [point] to the new girl” as Cheryl claims (the bottle actually lands in-between Betty and Veronica, meaning no one can say for sure who Archie’s going to kiss), Archie’s eyes immediately cut over to Veronica, and Veronica immediately looks at Archie.

Closet scene: There isn’t much doubt what’s going to happen as soon as the door shuts behind Archie and Veronica, because the sexual tension is palpable, and the entirety of their conversation is like a very awkward dance around the fact they are interested in each other. By the time they kiss it feels inevitable, and even the kiss itself is postponed until the end of the scene so that it acts as the exclamation point to the story arc.

 Once they exit and find Betty gone, the next eight to nine episodes consistently juxtapose Archie and Veronica’s new Friendship™ status with mildly flirtatious and subtly romantic moments that hearken back to the 1x01 makeout; by the time they become an official couple toward the end of Season 1, their relationship development is already slower and stronger than that of most of those previously-listed canon ships after three seasons. So, quite frankly, if you can’t recognize/acknowledge exactly how well-developed and non-rushed a relationship Varchie is, the problem is not the show/writers/the Varchie shippers.

The problem is YOU.

**IMPORTANT NOTE REGARDING SLOW-BURN DEVELOPMENT**

When it comes to fictional relationships, development is not the same thing as a preexisting history between characters. In all forms of fiction, everything important—whether it directly impacts/advances the plot or not—must take place on the screen, stage, or page. (The motto is show, not tell.) Character interactions are not excluded from this rule, particularly when it comes to film or television, where narration is an optional touch to be used sparingly, rather than the default mode of conveying information to the audience. While you can absolutely try to argue that “Barchie has the best development, not Varchie” on the grounds that the former has a long history of friendship, the reality is that at this point in the show, Barchie does not have enough onscreen interactions period, let alone romance-tinged interactions over the course of three seasons, to qualify them for a slow-burn status, let alone a good slow-burn status.

Now.

I’m not sure exactly why, but the concept of slow-burn has lately become so popular and so synonymous in fandom with “best development” and “superior quality” that the term gets thrown around until its original meaning is all but lost and everyone seems to think that if a certain potential pairing doesn’t happen right out of the gate, it automatically = EPIC! SLOW-BURN! ENDGAME!** while any pairing that does happen first automatically = boring. forced. predictable.

Which is…just…not…true.

[**Yet another side note: I LOATHE the word endgame. Always have, always will, and one day I will write the essay on the ever-swirling debate regarding Riverdale’s use of that word and why Veronica had to say it in-narrative for the pure and simple reason that people wouldn’t shut up about Kevin saying it that one time back in the pilot, and in math we call that an inverse operation, BUT TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY.]

Fictional relationships are about character dynamics just as much (if not more) than they’re about story, so it really doesn’t matter if the relationship that winds up being the E-word relationship is expected/planned or unexpected/unplanned. Slow burns can be great, but they are not the only type or relationship with value. Furthermore, not every ship that doesn’t show immediate progress on the romantic front is a slow burn, and not every attempt to create a slow burn works.

In TV, there are epic slow-burns, there are mediocre attempts to create epic slow-burns, there are bad attempts to create epic slow-burns, and then there are blatantly terrible pairings that attempt to cloak their pulled-out-of-a-hat-for-drama-ness beneath the heading of “slow-burn.” (Come to think of it, maybe that’s why people are so confused about what actually constitutes a slow-burn???)

Using another Friends example, think the J/R pairing…did they have the potential to be a good slow-burn relationship? Yeah, sure. All the actors on that show had chemistry and everyone interacted enough to make everything narratively plausible. Were they a good slow-burn relationship? No, because they came from left field, happened so late in the game and, worst of all, had to follow a strong relationship with better romantic chemistry and multiple seasons of solid storylines behind it. There are some people who prefer them together, yes, but even everyone who does like them (at least everyone I’ve ever come across) fully admits that they would also have preferred that pairing occurred much earlier in the show, when not so much water had gone under the bridge.

[Or, if Friends isn’t your sitcom, think instead of the giant misstep in How I Met Your Mother’s finale, where 7-8 seasons of plot and character development were bent, clipped, and otherwise torpedoed to splice existing material onto the plan for an ending that was concocted back when the show’s creators expected to only get maybe 3 seasons. Could that ending have worked after 2-3 seasons? Yes! It could’ve even been great. But after all those seasons, and all that story/character/relationship development in directions that wound up being more compelling than the original plan, it just didn’t work. It wound up feeling like someone luring you on a fun-but-long car ride with the promise of dessert at the end, and then being like “Ta da! Here’s a fruit parfait! Eat up!” Because while plenty of people enjoy fruit parfaits and wouldn’t mind eating them for breakfast or a snack, no one really appreciates being served berries, yogurt, and granola when they were led to expect ice cream/cake/cookies/pie. When you expend a lot of time and effort building something up, you absolutely have to deliver. You can’t pull a switcheroo at the last minute and call it good, because all that does is beg the question if this was your plan all along, why did you waste so much time developing everything but this?]

When it comes to creating slow burn, there are no shortcuts. It’s a delicate and tricky road, because in addition to needing to make sense from an in-narrative and character aspect, it also requires careful, unflagging cultivation over an extended period of time. It can’t show up and disappear at random for the sake of plot convenience; it needs normal and consistent onscreen interaction (i.e., frequent everyday conversations with and without other characters present), readily-observable-by-audience romance-tinged interaction every 2-4 episodes (flirting, furtive or longing glances, touches that linger, special smiles, noticeably consistent too much attention paid to the other person’s dating or personal life, etc.), as well as an unwavering attraction/willingness to go there from both parties.

In other words, slow-burn is exactly what the name implies: a long, slow, process where each step depends on the one before it, and you can’t rush it, skip steps, or let it fade into the background for a couple seasons while you work on something else. It must be shown, not told, the connection must be inarguable from the beginning, and there must be so much sizzling sexual chemistry between characters that even interactions in platonic settings resemble mutual flirting rather than friendly banter. After one season, Barchie doesn’t have any of that. After two seasons, Barchie doesn’t have any of that. After three seasons, Barchie still doesn’t have that.

But you know who does have all of that? 

Varchie. 

In every. Single. Season. 

(You know who else does? Bughead, but that’s a different essay.)

S1 takes about thirteen episodes to bring everything that begins the second A&V see each other to fruition, and is peppered throughout with flirty interactions, wistful glances, etc., and every few episodes, they share a moment that unmistakably hints at romance/their continued interest in one another. 

In S2, even their breakup is handled along the lines of a slow-burn formula…they sit on opposite sides of the room and exchange glances at the beginning of the episode. Their “we’re still friends” moment is awkward and laced with obvious sexual tension where a direct reminder of the relationship they’re trying to forget is introduced (the watch), and Veronica’s instinctive grab for Archie’s hand makes everything worse. Their I Love You Too reunion beneath the fake mistletoe is built up to like a first kiss scene. 

In S3, in order to make other pairings seem remotely plausible, the narrative goes out of its way to separate Archie and Veronica and keep them from interacting, but still throws the two of them together every few episodes or so for a moment that underscores their connection and shows how even their best attempts at friendship are sabotaged by the very non-platonic feelings they have for each other.

They are not rushed. They are not underdeveloped. They are most certainly not “forced.”

Oh, and speaking of forced...

Some quick definitions of “forced,” because we seem to be very confused about this word in relation to fiction as well:

(1) Obtained or imposed by coercion or physical power.

(2) (of a plant) having its development or maturity artificially hastened.

(3) (of a gesture or expression) produced or maintained with effort; affected or unnatural.

Beyond the fact that definitions 2&3 clearly refer to plants and facial expressions and thus maybe shouldn’t be used as an argument against a fictional relationship in the first place, none of these apply to Varchie. Their relationship involved no coercion/exercise of physical power whether you look at it from a meta or in-narrative perspective. Neither development nor maturity was hastened; if anything, it was deliberately stalled to create conflict between three of the main characters and then grown on an episode-by-episode basis. It is effortlessly produced/maintained thanks to the actors’ dynamic (which is also the point where the affected/unnatural part collapses; KJ Apa and Camila Mendes work too well together to make their interactions seem anything but natural) and the ease with which the characters’ personalities mesh.

But, hey...you know what could be reasonably construed as “forced?” You know what does actually fit all three of those above definitions? The contortionist-level attempts it took to break Archie and Veronica up in order to pair them with characters they have had hardly any onscreen interactions with in three seasons. If you truly despise forced fictional relationships, then perhaps it would be better to focus more energy on decrying the plot gymnastics that were required in S3 to break up Varchie and bring Archie/Josie and Veronica/Reggie into existence. Because regardless of whether you like or dislike those last two pairings, they are, by positive rather than normative standards, extremely forced.

So, once again...Varchie: not rushed, not underdeveloped, not forced. 

And once again (I’m getting so tired of typing this, but hey, it will never not be applicable, so oh well): You’re perfectly free to be mad that Archie and Veronica  prevent your ship from happening, and/or get all the scenes you’d like your favorite pairing to get. But arguing that they have no development when they are objectively the best-developed and least-rushed pairing on Riverdale is just ridiculous.