#bettys diagnose

[buzzcutssn]

S06E08

[movedtodykedvonte]

Betty: My fiancé is wearing a suit to his autism diagnosis.

Simon: It’s a special occasion!

Betty, lovingly: Shut up.

[brainbowunicorn]

I don‘t know if some of you even remember me. Hi, I‘m Betty and I was an artist and a singer (bathroom siren video anyone?). I was also pretty active in the Dan and Phil Fandom, dark times, I know.

I‘ve been so inactive the last few years. Five years to be exact. A lot has changed over the years.

I got diagnosed with bpd, got admitted to a mental hospital and got trapped in an abusive relationship. This person made my mental health spiral out of control and it took a long time to cut this person out of my life. We dated for a short time but became so dependent on one another that I thought I needed to be with them 24/7. They also had bpd, which I think explains a lot.

I‘ve been with my girlfriend for almost 4 years now, we met in 2021 on an online dating side and things went good from there. I‘m currently sitting in our living room, it‘s 1 am and I‘m surrounded by our three cats and I am happy.

The time between 2019 and 2021 was especially hard for me. I remember very little of that period of time and I am just realizing that I was disassociating almost the entire time. My girlfriend was the one who pulled me out and I‘m forever grateful for that.

My mom got diagnosed with breast cancer in 2023, she went through chemotherapy and thankfully pulled through with no major complications. But shortly after my dad cheated and they separated. It’s been hard ever since.

I don’t know why I am writing all of this into what is probably an empty void. Maybe I just want to write down my feeling for no one I know to see.

Oh and the funny thing is: The apartment I‘m living in with my girlfriend is the same one my parents built 8 years ago. The bathroom is the same one where the siren video happend. My parents built a house with three apartments in it in 2015 and the bathroom was just finished. My mom was cleaning it and asked me to come over so that I could take some pictures of the finished apartments. So long story short I was waiting for her to finish cleaning the bathroom while singing with her.

It‘s actually quite funny how your life plays out. I never thought I would be sitting in my own apartment, my girlfriend, whom I want to marry someday, sleeping soundly in our bed, being surrounded by our three cats and having a job that I love.

[eternal-moss]

Good Lord I cannot stop Simonposting

Anyway. The Golbetty shrine. Is incredibly messed up and delightfully feels like the sort of thing someone would construct after comprehending the god of chaos.

It’s clearly not Simon’s first time doing the ritual in vain (we’ve already seen him try many times in the montage at the end of the show to get her back, including consulting the Cosmic Owl and Prismo), so there’s holes in the wall that correspond to Golb’s symbols. The Enchiridion is also there, which was the main source of power for summoning elder gods like the Litch (used to resurrect himself) Golb (used by Magic Man and Betty) and (attempt to) time travel (by Betty). But before the apocalypse, the Enchiridion was owned by Simon himself, and both him and Betty studied it. So it has the twofold power of being a very strong magic battery and has the emotional link to Petrigrof.

The empty bottles and whatever those terrifying lamprey looking things are in a makeshift statue, harbouring a cleaner looking idol (which he probably created himself) out of clay. Making a statue of a god at least twice? Does that mean that even if one gets broken or damaged he has the other one? Or does it make the rituals stronger?

We know that Simon knew a bit about Golb before the apocalypse- in the final episode of the main series we have a flashback of him and Betty, where he says “I keep seeing reference to this mysterious entity that embodies chaos” and “his presence is felt in every crevice where chaos lurks”. To which Betty replies “well it’s a good thing he isn’t here then.”

She sacrificed herself to keep him safe and away from the god of chaos and madness, by fusing her soul with his. Golb being this sort of god means that he’s probably the originator of MMS (Magic, Madness and Sadness) which is a canonical condition where insane/depressed characters will have a higher propensity to magic, and magic users are more prone to bouts of mania, amnesia and depression.

The crown was basically a catalyst of MMS, which caused Simon to have unnatural elemental powers (unlike the elementals which don’t experience default MMS) as well as effecting his body and mind.

Betty is pretty much the only character to have ‘diagnosed’ MMS, recognising it in most magic users, and in Simon, hoping to undo its effects on him. Her theory is proven correct in the episode ‘Betty’ by Bella Noche undoing all the magic in Wizard City and the effects of the crown are nullified, and retracts its influence from Simon, causing him to become ‘normal again’ and regain his clarity and memories.

Grief is shown to be a strong natural catalyst to MMS, which also happened to Magic Man (after his wife Margles was ‘taken by Golb’ which still has an unclear meaning, she definitely didn’t fuse like Betty, although wishing her back at Prismo’s did the exact same thing as Simon wishing Betty back which is really unusual), and Betty herself after the ‘You Forgot Your Floaties’ episode (which by the way is like one of the best episodes in the show).

Betty’s whole motive was to save Simon and free him from madness, which she did at the cost of her soul. But now, ironically, Simon’s grief is causing him to develop it again, which is how he channels the Golb rituals (like how Betty and magic man did) and also probably how the Fionnaverse portal even opened up in the first place.

Something about about Simon having panic attacks in his house and just generally getting triggered by a lot of stuff (Ice, the books he wrote as Ice King, etc) but then gently stroking the clay idol he made of the god of madness because that’s his wife is just heart breaking

Look at that expression :( it’s longing followed by guilt because he knows this is exactly what she would never want him to do.

[jasondeansgothwife]

heathers headcanons

veronica sawyer — not diagnosed because it’s 1989 and her parents aren’t supportive, but has adhd. favorite flavor is mixed berry. if she wasn’t so pressured into being an honorary heather, she’d be goth. really wants to have kids someday. after movie events, she never gets over jd completely. cishet 18 year old girl. after movie’s events, she distances herself from heathers d and m and is pretty invisible until graduation. ethnically jewish, practicing catholic.

jason “j.d.” dean — originally from texas. his bad boy persona is all an act to impress veronica, and he feels proud when she defeats him. total mama’s boy, and his mom was really the only loving, not abusive, adult in his life. his growth was stunted by malnutrition. very deeply traumatized. cishet 18 year old boy.

heather chandler — only 17 at the time of her death. not a natural blonde. her parents are loaded; her dad owns some kind of a business, and neither of her parents are very emotionally there for her. only child. cishet girl.

heather duke — this is canon but i think it’s forgotten a lot because of lighting and stuff but. redhead! cishet girl, 17 years old. youngest in her family, with two older brothers and one older sister. grows up to be either a lawyer or a dental hygienist.

heather mcnamara — 18 years old. heather is actually her middle name, but she goes by it to fit in with chandler and duke. grows up to be a nurse and wears scrubs with like tweety bird and tinkerbell and other characters on them to make children feel comfortable. makes a lot of dirty jokes. cishet girl.

martha dunnstock — 18 years old. trans woman, which, in combination with being fat, gets her bullied by a lot of her classmates, but especially heather c. enjoys bowling. straight. loves movies, especially romances, and has big crushes on a lot of heartthrob pretty boy type actors.

betty finn — 18 years old. cis girl. deeply closeted bisexual. her favorite color is light pink. had a little crush on veronica when they were in elementary school together. bunnies are her favorite animal.

i also have headcanons for jd's mama, but i might make another post for that.

[ninaandjames]

Inside Bettie Page's Sordid Story After Leaving The Spotlight

[film-classics]

Clara Bow - The It Girl

Clara Gordon Bow (born in Brooklyn, New York on July 29, 1905) was an American actress who rose to stardom during the silent film era and successfully made the transition to "talkies" in 1929. Her appearance as a plucky shopgirl in the film It (1927) brought her global fame and the nickname "The It Girl".

Bow's parents were descended from English and Scots-Irish immigrants who had come to America the generation before. Against her mother's wishes but with her father's support, Bow competed in Brewster publications' magazine's annual nationwide acting contest, "Fame and Fortune", in fall 1921, winning an evening gown and a silver trophy. Bow was then introduced to director Christy Cabanne, who casted her in her first film role.

Encouraged by her father, Bow continued to visit studio agencies asking for parts. She made a handful of films when she caught the eye of Preferred Pictures, which signed her and paid for her move to Hollywood. Bow became a hugely popular actor soon after moving. After her original studio closed down, she became Paramount Pictures' biggest star in the late 1920s. Aside from  It (1927), she made other memorable movies like Wings (1927), the first Academy Award for Best Picture winner.

However,  the pressures of fame, public scandals, and overwork, took their toll on Bow's fragile emotional health. She eventually left Hollywood, her last performance being in 1947, and retired in a ranch in Nevada.

Sadly, she began showing symptoms of psychiatric illness and checked into The Institute of Living. She was was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and after leaving the institution, Bow lived alone in a bungalow in Culver City, where at age 60, she died of a heart attack.

Legacy:

Named as the foremost "baby" of the WAMPAS Baby Stars in 1924

Listed by the Motion Picture Herald as one of America’s top-10 box office draws from 1927 to 1931, topping the list in 1928 and 1929

Is the model for Max Fleischer's cartoon character Betty Boop, created in 1930

Opened The 'It' Cafe in the Hollywood Plaza Hotel in 1937

Honored with an image on a United States postage stamp in 1994

Nominated for the 1999 American Film Institute "100 Years...100 Stars" list

Is the namesake of a song by 50 Foot Wave in 2004 and another by Taylor Swift in 2024

Has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 1500 Vine Street for motion picture

[fuka-petals]

♡ Introduction post ♡

@fuka-petalsart <- just art

my persona

info on me

hihi am V but like you can also call me Kennith, Flower, etc.

Minor (over 14, clarification bc yk what passed) (I'm fine with adults interacting)

I use vamp/they/he/it/voca/soap/flower pronouns {in order of preference}

I'm diagnosed autistic, seeking a diagnosis for bpd, ocd, npd, and adhd (not self diagnosed just see symptoms in both me and relatives and would like a concrete answer) also some other things I'd rather not disclose

I'm an angelkin enby that uses xenogenders and am a lesbian

not always in the "right state of mind" if I say smth stupid please let me know l8tr so I can delete it

I have issues with being kind and having empathy please be patient I'm not trying to be mean (at least. Most of the time)

I defend things I like I don't care how fucking annoying it is if you piss me off I'll defend my views (unless you annoy me...idrc for dealing with ppl who don't listen) but like I'm rlly passionate abt some things and even if make a statement while out of it if I agree with it later I will defend it

Really cynical unfortunately. I have bad mood swings and get angry really easily. Again, trying to work on that

If you somehow still think im cool heres my discord -> @/ _vflour

I uh didn't realize how shitty of a person I was until writing this.

I have an ed off and on its not weight related but please don't make comments about if ppl deserve food or not around me it's extremely triggering (self worth issues ig)

I do really want friends though. I guess. Sorry please talk to me I like talking about my intrests I'm not as bad as I seem I swear

Seriously though I'm really lonely

Also I struggle with being clingy and jealous oml jesus christ uh hh WAAAAAAAA

Oh also important kinda but I'm not into guro it's a trauma related intrest but I'm okay with ppl who are into it seeking out my guro/nsfw pixiv if I ever get the courage to post on there

Selfshipper ^_^ single outside of f/os though. Not rlly looking 4 a relationship my ex scared me away from that stuff

I self ship with fukase (vocaloid), vflower (vocaloid), friedrich (mi), vixen (mi), cornelius (mi), and c'venash vishneri (psychopomp). Sorry I'm rlly cringe (draw my sona with any of them and I'll forever be grateful)

I kin betty noir (mi), ame (nso), sumireko (2hu), aoi (you and me and her), yukari (Liar Liar one), and claire (walk in the sun) so dni if you don't like them/hj

Currently hyperfixated on Vocaloid (Specifically V4Flower and Fukase), Mellow's games and ocs (MUNDUS IUMENTORUM!!), Touhou (Specifically Sumireko), Len'en, Nso, subahibi, Yume Nikki, any ynfg, Mindhaunt, you me and her, milk bag vns, pmmm, Reflexia, and Psychopomp, murdersims/guro vns in general, Awaria (not a helltaker fan)

all interests (I think) in no particular order - Vocaloid, Flower, Fukase, Utau, Mellow's stuff, Angelbrained's stuff, Mindhaunt, Yume Nikki + ynfgs, YTTD, NSO, ghostie-p & marz mitzi, touhou, subahibi, YOU ME and HER, len'en, lacey games, splatoon, rpg maker horror games, psychedelic looking art, milk inside/outside a bag of milk, rabbit maiden softworks, Liar Liar, precious theater, 8eyes, ranfren, a masochist's tango, madoka magica, precure, ojamajo doremi, reflexia, Saya no uta, mudersims/guro vns in general, corpse party, Awaria (not a helltaker fan)

I fucking hate blueberries

Dni

Olikase fans. (please respect this if nothing else)

Proshippers (don't want dash algorithm picking up things that are triggering to me)

Pro harassment antis

radfems

transphobes

homophobes

acephobes

queerphobia in any way shape or form

racists

sexists (both ways)

l0li/sh0tacons

fatphobes

prolifers

support killing innocent people

ai "artists"

ghost and pals/team 6x111 fans unless I followed you first for other content you post, also their white knighters/apologists...yikes

Puritans. You will be blocked. It's based in queerphobia and demonizes sexuality. If you don't want to see nsfw then block tags, don't force others to not be kinky because you're an ass (note, I mean people who call it gross n stuff, if you are a minor or ace or smth and don't want nsfw accs following you bc of that that's fine! Also this isn't an nsfw acc either, I have a pixiv 4 that, just rlly passionate abt my hate 4 puritans...)

furry haters (grow up its 2024)

Mellow haters (why are you even here)

Tcc fans. You wouldnt survive a day on 4chan and kiwifarms

use the term femboy on women (on non women is fine w/ permission)

Blacklist

Do not bring up @/ Denzi-P to me or talk about me to them. They are not a good person and I do not wish to be associated with them.

Try and keep that the only name on this list

Links

itch

toyhouse

everskies

soundcloud

artfight

strawpage (will be replaced with a neocities site soon)

[frigid666]

betty broderick's murders of her ex-husband (age 44) and his mistress-turned-wife (28) has always stuck out to me as the perfect case study of why women should NEVER assume the 'provider' role for a man. men are not good investments, EVER.

having grown up in an insular religious community, she had little odds of defying her conservative upbringing, which she said groomed her into housewifery since early childhood. she met her future husband at age 17 (he was 21) - he was already mostly through college while she had just begun pursuing her own education. she married him at age 22 and immediately began having their 5 children, 4 of whom would survive to adulthood. in addition to housework and childcare, she was the household primary earner so her husband could attend law school after earning his medical license. after earning his license to practice law, his career experienced a quick upward trajectory. he hired a young 21 year old legal aid, whom he eventually began an affair with.

once his infidelity was exposed, the couple divorced; it was her husband who moved out and filed the petition for the separation. given betty's strict catholic upbringing, she likely would have chosen to stay together and try to fix their relationship issues. the process was bitter, and difficult for betty, who in addition to processing the betrayal from her soon ex, also struggled to acquire and finance proper legal representation. her husband's reputation and position as the president of the city's bar association, she alleged, prejudiced the legal community against her, and she feared she would be left without any money or custody of her children, and that he would sell their house from under her. by that point, betty had been a stay-at-home mom for many years, and had little assets or money set aside that only she was entitled to. once her ex-husband moved in and married the younger mistress, she became completely unhinged and began what could only be classified as a harrassment campaign against the new couple. she alleged the hostility was 2-sided, accusing the new wife of adding insult to injury by taking digs at her physical appearance by subscribing her to anti-aging and weight loss catelogues that were delivered to her mailbox. she engaged in vandalism and destruction of property. this culminated to her breaking into their home and shooting them both.

during the trial, she was falsely diagnosed as "histrionic" and "narcissistic." the real story is quite simple, no need for formal diagnoses. this woman was driven to insanity by the betrayal of her husband, for whom she sacrificed what could never be recouped: her time, her youth, her love - only for him to discard her as if she was trash for a younger woman who had invested nothing into him, and leverage the power she helped him obtain to strip her of their joint assets, including their children. i am sympathetic to her probably moreso than the general public because she was a woman born in the 40s. the betrayal runs deeper than her singular man's actions. she had been indoctrinated since birth to believe that if she was her man's loyal helpmate, she would reap the benefits of his success and be loved and cherished by him forever. the pain of that rude awakening, i could never imagine.

male partner or no male partner, we need to encourage women to invest first and foremost into THEMSELVES. do not help or finance a man's education, career or social standing - he will leave for the woman who didn't have to.

[buzzcutssn]

S10E06

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Sleeping Beauty - Dean Winchester X Female Reader

Title: Sleeping Beauty

Dean Winchester X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Betty OC (Mentioned), Mrs. Peterson OC (Mentioned), Sam, nicknames, Steven OC (Mentioned), Fanny OC, and Paul OC

Requested by: Sue!

WC: 5,982

Warnings: Reader has narcolepsy, information was gathered by the requester, sleep attacks mentioned, nicknames, bantering, teasing, cursing, Supernatural canon violence mentioned, blood very briefly mentioned, gun mentioned, jealousy mentioned, flirting mentioned, one-night stands mentioned, Dean's a bit insecure, cuddling, slight angst, and fluff

You always had the talent of falling asleep anywhere. Whether that be in the car during a couple hour drive or on the couch after reading a good book. Though those seem like typical places one could sleep. By the words 'falling asleep anywhere' you really did do such. 

And it didn't matter if you had a good night's sleep the night before. Everyday, almost all day, you'd end up falling asleep more than once. More than ten times most days. Whether for a couple of hours or a couple of minutes. It was something you didn't really control most of the time. One of the many perks of narcolepsy. Note the sarcasm.

You didn't have it as a kid. It sort of just came to you when you were a teenager. You started feeling incredibly tired throughout the day, your body begging to sleep, and sometimes you ended up doing such. Which really messed up your schedule. And got you in a bit of trouble in school. People didn’t understand and it took a bit to finally get diagnosed. 

It was sort of random too, never attacking at a specific time or anything; either happening after you ate something or spoke to someone. But every time you woke back up, you always felt sort of refreshed. 

But over the years, the symptoms lessened to a point that it was liveable. More liveable than it already was. You didn't hesitate getting out of bed in the mornings, or worried that much about how others would perceive you when out and about. Yes, there were tough days, but you made it through. Like you always did. 

It was difficult to find places to work, especially with your disability. But you did have one. It took you a bit to find a place that was accepting and understanding after you told them about your narcolepsy, but you found one. 

Betty's Diner, right off the highway on Route 66, Kansas. Little ol' Betty, the owner of the small 50's themed diner, was an angel; you were sure of it. She was so understanding and considerate of your condition and never got mad if you were late to a shift or went a bit overtime on your breaks. 

You were a waitress, working six hours five days a week. Getting to serve whoever came into the diner with a smile on your face. From trunk driver's to small families enjoying their family meals on discount Sunday, you had practically seen them all. Nothing really surprised you. You'd see a lot of different types of folks enter the diner and leave with full, content stomachs. 

Though, one day, new faces entered the small diner. Two men, both rather attractive in your book, entered the diner; the small bell signaling their arrival. The first man was very tall, you guessed taller than six foot, with broad shoulders, and ear-length brown, wavy hair. The second man, slightly shorter than the first, was wearing a red flannel and dark blue jeans, had an Ivy-League sort of haircut; either dark blonde or brown, you couldn't fully make up your mind. 

You were behind the counter when they walked over, and you quickly looked away and wrote down some nonsense on your small pad of paper to pretend that you were busy. It had been a slow Tuesday afternoon, not a lot of hungry customers, only old Steven who lived about a mile away came for his usual and Mrs. Peterson who came for a piece of Betty's famous pecan pie. Other than that, the day had been slow and quiet. 

You looked up at the two men when the counter bell was gently pushed, making you blink a couple of times. Your eyes ghosted from both men, going from Mister Ivy-League, to the tall one, and back. You gave them your best 'customer service' smile, your pen between your pointer and middle finger as you began to fidget with it; tapping it lightly on your pad of paper. 

"What can I get you two?" You asked, voice light and what some regulars at the diner had only described as 'sunny', as the two men turned to look over at the small menu that was taped to the back of the cash register.

The tall one cleared his throat briefly, giving you a small smile as he answered, "I'll have the 'Polly Pot Pie', uh, size small." To which, you gave him a nod and quickly wrote down his order. 

You then turned your attention to the second man, allowing yourself to let your eyes wander over his face. You couldn't help but notice how striking his green eyes were and the small freckles that littered his cheeks on his lightly sun-kissed skin. After a moment, Ivy-League spoke up, turning his gaze up to you. "What would you recommend, sweetheart?" He asked, and his sudden affectionate name made you take a small breath in before you snapped yourself out of it. 

"Well," You cleared your own throat, placing your hand on your chest momentarily, "I rather like the 'Southern Sloppy Joe' and the 'Betty's Beef Burger.'" You pointed to the menu with the tip of your pen, a bit nervous to meet his gaze. 

The man gave you a small, charming grin, leaning to rest one arm on the counter. "I'll take that burger then and…" He glanced at the menu before looking back at you, "I'll also have a slice of the apple pie." 

With that, you dropped your eyes from his rather intense gaze before continuing; you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, "Alright, is this for here or to go?" You then asked, writing their orders down quickly, waiting for their answer. 

"To g-" 

"For here," Ivy-League interrupted the tall one, making you look up from your pad of paper with a raised eyebrow. 

"Alright, well, you can find a place to sit. Fanny will bring you drinks. And your order will come out in a couple minutes." You spoke before the tall one spoke.

"Thank you…" He looked at your name tag, "Y/N." He then gave you a smile, Mister Ivy-League doing the same.

"Yeah, thanks, sweetheart." He thanked you, his pretty green eyes reluctantly leaving yours before leaving to follow what you could only assume was a friend or family member. It was like this man was trying to give you a heart attack or something.

With that, you let out a sigh, your heart calming slightly as you headed to the kitchen window. "Hey, Paul! We got a small pot pie, beef burger, and apple pie!" You called to the man. 

Paul wandered over, wiping his hands on the small towel hooked on his waist. A thin layer is sweat on his brow from the hot kitchen. You and Pual had gotten pretty close from your two years of working at Betty's. He was sort of a father figure for you. He always had a smile on his face, cracked terrible dad jokes daily, and always talked so highly of his wife and three daughters. You loved how much he doted on them. 

Taking the ripped paper with the orders, Paul nodded slowly, you could practically see the gears turning in his head, "Alrigh'," He began, "Be out in ten." 

Nodding with a smile, you headed around the counter, going to the very few customers that were in the diner before the mysterious men arrived. As said before, Tuesdays were pretty slow, so there weren't a lot of people around.

Stepping around the counter, you felt a small wave of sleepiness, and you knew you'd have to sit down or something soon. But you thought you'd at least check on the customers before rushing to the back break room. Practically speeding around, you kept a smile on your face as you checked on the diner-goers. Refilling their waters if needed. 

You are thankful you had Fanny with you in your shift. She also went around with you after getting drinks for the mysterious men. She glanced at you periodically, knowing by now that you were slowing down. Fanny was a great friend of yours. Only in her mid forties, she worked at the diner as a second job to help pay for her kids' education. She was keen on her two boys having a good education and getting into a good college. She was quite motherly with you, and so seeing you wobble slightly when you stepped, worried her. 

Checking on the fourth and last group of customers, you sluggishly moved to the side of the counter, gripping onto it as you let out a breath. Your eyelids felt very heavy as your head began to nod, it was hard to stay awake anymore. Your whole body felt as if you hadn't slept in two days, maybe three. Your limbs felt incredibly heavy and you couldn't stop a small yawn from escaping you. Trying to muster the strength to open your eyes and get to the break room, you tried to move, but before you knew it, you were asleep. 

Dean sat back against the red, leather booth, arms crossed as he looked around. His eyes momentarily landed on you before looking off at the small jukebox playing some 'Patsy Cline' song. Sam was doing pretty much the same, minus looking over at you. He was busy playing around with the salt and pepper shakers on the table before observing the art hanging on the walls; from old ads from the 50’s to illustrations of pinup girls. 

"Nice place," Sam spoke up, finally looking over at his older brother, who gave him a nod, looking away from you. 

"Yeah, it is nice." He spoke, his thoughts occupied at the moment making Sma roll his eyes.

"Yeah, don't think I didn't see the way you were looking at the waitress." Sam spoke, letting out a sigh, "And still are…" Dean looked over at his brother. 

Dean only shrugged, "She's alright." He replied simply, even though in reality, to Dean, you were definitely more than 'alright.' 

Sam rolled his eyes once again, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth, "Whatever you say." He muttered, taking another sip of his water.

Letting out a sigh, Dean couldn't help but look back over at you. The 50's style outfit you were wearing was nothing short of adorable. Your hair was pulled away so it wouldn't get in your eyes, though soft, little wisps of hair gently framed your face. And the smile on your face lit up the room, making it feel so much warmer than it really was in the diner. Dean swiftly turned back to stare down at the table, his hand coming up to pull at the collar of his plain, black shirt. Feeling heat creep up his neck, he knew that his gaze had lingered for longer than strictly necessary. You were just too damn attractive to not look at.

Now Dean had had his fair share of relationships, flings, and one-night-stands; being a hunter, it was hard to make and keep long, deep, and meaningful relationships with others who weren't also hunters. 

Now it wasn't like Dean hadn't ever found a waitress attractive, he had certainly done so many times before. But the way you looked right now… You were just so goddamn beautiful. And all you were doing was just standing there, talking to another customer. Hell, Dean wouldn't be surprised if you were an angel.

Though, Dean's thoughts were quickly interrupted when he heard someone yell out your name.

Turning his head, Sam followed, seeing that you were now laying on the ground. People around gasped and murmured to each other as Fanny went over and knelt down beside you, raising your head into her lap. 

Dean got out of his seat in the booth quickly, making his way over with furrowed eyebrows, worry clean in his eyes. 

"Is she alright?" Dean asked, noticing your chest rise and fall softly; you were at least breathing. But you must have had quite a tumble. 

Fanny brushed her fingers behind your head, pulling back to see no blood. "She's alright," She let out a sigh of relief, and at her words Dean's visibly relaxed as well, though he was curious as to what happened. As was Sam, peering over his brother's shoulder down at you. His mind was already racing with theories. 

"What happened?" A different customer asked from their booth, their soup sitting forgotten in front of them. 

"Don't worry," Fanny only shook her head at the person's question, slowly helping you up, your head landing on her shoulder. "This happens a lot, but she's fine." 

Before Dean, or Sam for that matter, could offer to carry you, Fanny lifted you in her arms easily; surprising both men.

And that was when you first met Dean and Sam. It was awkward, sure, but nowadays, you, Dean, and Sam would joke about it if the story was ever retold. And that had been two years ago. 

From that day on, Sam and Dean would come almost twice a month. Three, if you were lucky. Sam would always get some sort of salad and Dean would always get a slice of apple pie. They both became regulars and every time they entered the little diner, the closer you got to the both of them. 

So, there you were, sitting on the couch in front of the TV in the bunker, popcorn in hand in a small plastic bowl as you watched some cowboy movie that you knew Dean would love, if he hadn't seen it already. It was hard concentrating on the movie, your mind feeling a bit hazy as you tried to pay attention and take note of what the characters were saying, but all the information was just slipping away. 

Slowly chewing the popcorn that was in your mouth, you blinked, staring at the TV before your head began to loll to the side, your eyes shutting as your body fell to the side, thankfully, your head landing on a pillow. You didn't know how long you were asleep until you jolted awake. 

Raising a hand to your head, you scratched at your scalp lightly, blinking repeatedly before looking around you. The TV playing your movie had already gone to the credits, making you furrow your eyebrows and frown slightly. You must've been watching a movie. 

Hearing the bunker doors open, you turned to watch Dean and Sam enter, Sam shaking off his boots and setting his gun on the small table by the door. He wandered off to either shower or hide in the library, but not before giving you a small smile and a wave in greeting. Dean ended up doing the same, taking off his boots before looking up and giving you a smile. That smile that always made your knees weak and your heart race.

"Hey there, sweetheart," He greeted you, going over to the couch to sit beside you, "You alrigh’?" He then asked, noticing that you looked a little spaced-out, but nonetheless making you smile right back at how sweet he was being; had always been with you. Though your cheeks felt incredibly warm, taking note of how close he was sitting next to you.

"I'm alright," You dropped your hand from your hair, "I think I must have had a sleep attack or something. I don't really remember putting on this movie." You gestured to the TV, making Dean look over to see the end of the credits roll by. 

"Well, that's okay," He looked back over to you, his arm resting up against the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers brushing against your hair, "We can always rewatch it later. You know how much I love cowboy movies." He spoke, somehow knowing it was a cowboy movie before pressing a quick kiss to your temple, and standing. "I'm gonna shower, and then order us some pizza. Want your usual?" He asked, backing up towards his room, to which you nodded. 

"Thank you, De." You thanked him, as Dean just gave you a wink.

"Anything for you, sweetheart."

Once he was out of sight, you let out an almost dreamy sigh. You had thought in the beginning of living with the two brothers that you might become a burden, that they’d tire of you and want you to move out of the bunker. You couldn’t even count on your fingers the amount of times you fell asleep on them when on the couch, or having a short sleep attack while conversing with either brother. And Dean was indescribable, truly. He was so understanding of you and your condition, even after hard days when it was difficult for you to go through the day, he was there. Dean was always there for you. Always there to make sure that you were in a safe place if he noticed a sleep attack was coming. Always there to bring you to bed or the couch if you fell asleep in an awkward place for a long time. And always there to explain to you what had happened if you needed him to. And you were incredibly grateful. 

Your heart would always race and your chest would feel warm whenever you woke up with your favorite throw blanket over you and a soft pillow under your head after long sleep attacks on the couch. And it didn't stop there, Dean would leave you little notes around the bunker for you. Because of your condition, you were sometimes prone to forgetting important information, so Dean would leave little post-its around, on your bedroom door or on the fridge. He usually did it before he left for a hunt with Sam, letting you know that he was out and that he'd be back. All of these things, these little things that helped you so much throughout the day, made you fall hard for Dean Winchester. 

It was quite obvious for Dean, and even Sam, that ever since he met you at that diner, Dean was smitten. And Sam knew that too, Dean hardly went to his usual pie place anymore, opting to go to the diner you worked at. To see you, but to also get some pie, but mostly to see you. He'd walk in, either by himself or with Sam tagging along, noticing the bright smile on your face widen as you looked up from behind the counter, your eyes meeting his. Dean would subtly flirt with you, loving your infectious laugh as you then asked him what he'd like to order. But you knew the answer. He'd always order the same thing, a bacon cheeseburger and a slice of apple pie. He ordered that so often in fact that Betty just added his order to the menu as ‘Dean’s Special.’

The only thing was, neither you nor Dean thought to maybe confess these feelings that were growing for one another. You thought that Dean wouldn’t return your feelings. He was Dean Winchester. A hunter of demons and all kinds of creatures. He was gorgeous, with stunning green eyes and silky dark blonde hair that could make a girl swoon. He could have any girl, anyone for that matter. During the time that you knew Dean, after a successful hunt, he'd most of the time go to some hotel with some woman he found at the bar. It hurt whenever Dean came back home after a one-night stand, seeing his hair ruffled slightly, one of his flannels held over his shoulder, and his right boot not fully tied. And it hurt when you'd look over to the other side of the bar, only to see him flirting with someone. Sam knew, and you knew that he knew. But you were glad that he didn't say anything. He'd just rub your shoulder, a small frown on his face. It hurt when he called you those sweet nicknames, kissed your forehead, and gave you that charming smile of his. 

But, Dean hadn't stayed the night with anyone in a long while, but you didn't want to give yourself any false hope. Maybe he was just too tired after some hunts to go out to the bar to find anyone. Again, he was Dean Winchester... He could have anyone he wanted. And honestly, you tried to reason with yourself, he probably thought of you as a sister; just like Sam.

Dean didn't see you as a sister at all. You were so much more than that. And that was why Dean hadn't gone home with any women in a long time, none of them were you. And Sam knew, and Dean knew that his younger brother knew about his growing feelings toward you. Sam knew the first day they met you. Sam tried reasoning with Dean but with no luck. 'Just tell her,' he'd say, but in Sam's words, Dean would chicken out. Dean couldn't tell you. You were perfect. And you deserved so much better than him anyway. He was nothing special. Just plain ol' Dean Winchester. Dean, who had been hunting for practically his whole life, and whose said was filled with pain and sadness. He couldn't burden you with this. You had enough to deal with, without him adding on to that. And that was why it was so hard to tell you. He wanted to tell you, he wanted to be selfish. But, for the first time in a very long time, Dean didn't want to mess up and lose you. 

But with every glance, every interaction, both you and Dean found it harder to not say anything about some of the events that had taken place during the past couple of weeks. 

~~~

Dean had been leaving the War Room, passing the library, Dean stopped. Taking a couple of steps back, Dean peered into the library, seeing you curled up on your favorite armchair, asleep. A smile tugged at the corner of Dean’s lips at the sight. It had only been about three months since you came to live at the bunker with himself and Sam. It was all by accident really, how you had come to learn about Sam and Dean’s line of work. Well, what really happened was Dean accidentally blurted it out. It wasn’t his fault though, you were just so easy to talk to. Dean hated talking about it, Sam still liked to bring it up. 

Making his way inside, Dean walked over to you, taking a moment before slowly taking the open book from your lap. Making sure to keep the book open on the page you had left off on, Dean read the front cover, taking note that you had been reading the first 'Lord Of The Rings’ book. Finding the worn receipt that you used as a bookmark, Dean slid it between the pages and shut your book, leaving it on the table for you. 

Turning back to you, Dean bent down and slid his arms under your back and legs before picking you up into his arms. Dean didn't think you would want to stay in that awkward position any longer than you had to be; all scrunched up. Looking down at you, Dean held his breath as you let out a small unintelligible mumble, only to let it out when you just nuzzled into his neck. Dean froze for a moment, the feeling of your warm breath on his neck sending shivers through his body before he started walking again. He mentally shook his head. He had carried you to your bed many times before, this was nothing new to him. Dean continued his walk to your room, nudging your slightly ajar door open with his foot before stepping in. 

Placing you gently on your bed, Dean pulled out the blanket from under you before placing it over you; the blanket reaching your chin. Leaning down, Dean pressed a small, chaste kiss to your forehead before straightening. Freezing, Dean's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't done that before. That was new. Dean shook his head, turning away quickly before heading out of your bedroom. Making sure to close his door behind himself, Dean made his way back to his own room, closing the door quietly behind himself. Laying down on his own bed, Dean sighed heavily. What was going on with him?

~~~

The road had been a bit bumpy, but that didn't stop your body from taking a nap. Laying on the leather seats of the Impala, your legs kicked up on the seat, resting on Dean's lap as he drove you to the diner for your shift. With one hand on the wheel, Dean's free hand was on your calve, his thumb brushing against you softly. He glanced periodically at you, seeing you somewhat peacefully asleep. At a red light, Dean turned to look at you, a small smile on his face before he turned back to look at the road.

Soon after, you sat up, sluggishly as you rubbed your left eyelid with the palm of your hand. Moving your head to lay more comfortably against the back of the seat. As you were gaining your bearings, Dean's smile grew, "Good mornin', sleeping beauty." He commented lightly.

You smiled, your eyes meeting him briefly, "How long was I out?" You asked, checking your watch on your arm. Usually in the mornings, your need to sleep would last no more than fifteen to twenty minutes. You made sure to sleep on the way to work, during your lunch break after you ate, and before dinner. You hated fighting the drowsiness, so it was always easier just to take those small naps during the day. It definitely made the day more bearable. 

"Uhm, not long, twenty minutes max. We're almost at Betty's." Dean glanced over at you once more, pausing his small caresses on your calves. "How are you feelin’?" He asked, a soft concern in his voice.

You shrugged a shoulder, your smile never wavering as you looked at Dean's side profile, "Still tired, but better." You assured him, voice soft and heart filled with fondness. It wasn't long until Dean pulled into the parking lot of Betty's, turning off the engine as you shuffled your legs off his lap. Letting out a sigh, you turned to Dean who had been already looking at you, making your cheeks feel a bit warm. "Thank you for driving me, De." You thanked him, Dean giving you a nod in response. 

Dean had been driving you to work for the past couple of months, even though you said you were fine with taking a cab or something. Dean, on the other hand, insisted that you’d let him drive you. You felt pretty bad, not wanting to feel like a burden, or making Dean feel as if he had to take you - even trying to pay him for all the gas he used driving you there and back. But Dean wasn’t having it. He told you that you weren’t a burden, and that you didn’t have to pay him. All he wanted in return was a slice of apple pie, and you were more than willing to give him that.

"You call me if you need anything, alrigh'?" He requested, reaching over the console and taking your hand into his own, squeezing it gently. The simple action of him holding your hand had you feeling warm again.

You nodded, smiling warmly at him, "Yeah, I know, Dean. You tell me every time you drop me off. You don’t have to worry." Letting out a little laugh, you pressed your free hand to your mouth, a small wave of drowsiness going through you. In reality though, Dean had only said those words a good handful of times; you were just messing with him.

You couldn’t recognize the look in Dean’s eyes when you brought your attention back to him. You watched as he slowly licked his bottom lip before he reached over with his free hand and placed it on the back of your head. His fingers sunk into your hair, bringing you close enough to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. Your breath hitched ever so slightly at the sudden affection from him. But, you were happy that he showed you such affection. For the rest of the working day, you had thought about that forehead kiss, almost constantly when you weren’t helping customers.

The forehead kisses were a pretty new thing between the two of you. Dean had first done it after he got back from a pretty bad hunt. Rushing down the stairs only to bring you into his arms. You didn’t know what had happened during the hunt, and you never asked. You knew whatever did happen, it shook Dean. Which was a feat within itself.

You had looked over Dean’s shoulder, eyes meeting Sam’s as you silently asked him what had happened, but Sam just gave you a small shrug before leaving the room. You just let out a sigh, wrapping your arms around Dean, not even caring about the blood on his brown jacket or the terrible smell reeking off of him. 

Pulling back slightly, you had kept your arms around him as you looked up at him. “Are you alright?” You asked, voice soft, seeing how his green eyes glinted in the light of the room. 

Dean said nothing, mustering up a small, almost sad smile before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. You remembered that you felt so warm but so light at the same time. Your heartbeat quickening as your eyes fluttered shut. He held you for a moment more, as if he was cherishing the moment - as you were - before he let go of you and left the room. 

But that kiss, that kiss in the Impala felt different. A good different. 

~~~

The bunker had been quiet, minus the TV playing that cowboy movie you sort of slept through. Pressed against Dean’s side, you periodically grabbed a couple of pieces of popcorn from the bowl in Dean’s lap, chewing slowly as you stared at the screen. You couldn’t believe a full year had passed since the two brothers walked into your life. You were trying to fight the sleepiness that you were feeling. You really wanted to spend more time with Dean. 

Speaking of the man, his arm was wrapped around you, pulling you close. His fingers were gently caressing your forearm, tracing patterns into your skin. It made you smile, and you let yourself sink further onto the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. He chuckled lowly and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Comfy there, sweetheart?” he asked softly, teasingly, his ministrations on your arm pausing.

You moved your head slightly to look up at him, slightly startled at how close both of your faces were, "Yeah," You breathed out, not wanting to raise your voice so as to not ruin the quiet atmosphere. "I'm sorry in advance if I fall asleep on you." You said before turning back to the TV, rubbing your cheek against his shoulder; the smell of his cologne practically engulfing you.

Dean only hummed in return, his eyes staying on you for a moment more. The room was dim but the small lamp lit up enough of the room for Dean to see you clearly. Your eyelashes brushed over your cheeks, and his expression softened slightly. “It's okay, you're safe here,” He murmured, “I promise not to draw on your face with a pen as you sleep."

Laughter erupted out of you, shaking your head slightly as your shoulders shook. “Dean, that’s mean!” You playfully slapped his chest with a hand, making Dean pretend wince.

Raising his free hand in surrender, Dean let out his own laughter, “Just jokin’, just jokin.”

You only shook your head, turning your head to face the screen, “Sam was right, you are immature.”

“Wait, Sammy said that about me?” Dean asked, finding the small smirk on your face adorable before he let out a sigh, “In all seriousness, you’ll be fine. I’ll bring you to bed when you’re ready.”

"Thank you, De." You muttered back, turning your body slightly towards his to curl more into his side, eyes finally shutting.

"No need to thank me, sweetheart," Dean smirked lightly, turning back to stare at the TV screen, "I know I'm awesome."

~~~

Present day, Dean walked back into the room no more than thirty minutes later, a plain t-shirt on with gray sweatpants. His hair was slightly damp from his shower as he walked over to the couch where you were still sitting. Sitting beside you, Dean let out a sigh as he sat; his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulder. 

“I ordered the pizza, should be able to pick it up soon,” Dean spoke, looking over at you as you paused your reading, placing your thumb in between the pages so you wouldn’t lose your place.

“Did you get those cheesy sticks?” You asked, watching as Dean’s smile widened ever-so-slightly. 

“Of course, who do you think I am?” Dean asked in mock offense, and when he received a small shove from you in response he smirked. “I got your pizza, mine, and Sammy's. The cheese sticks too, so don't worry that pretty little head of yours." Dean teased, bringing his arm up to ruffle your hair slightly. 

As he pulled away, Dean dropped his arm back around your shoulders, unable to pull his eyes off of you. You furrowed your eyebrows confused as to why he was looking at you with such tenderness, “Why are you staring at me like that?” You asked curiously, feeling a little bit nervous as his eyes stared intently into yours. You couldn't think for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden proximity as he fidgeted in his seat, unknowingly scooting closer to you.

“I...” Dean trailed off, staring down at you. His eyes glinted mischievously in the low light and you felt your breath hitch. ‘Why did he have to be so attractive?’ you had thought, heart racing as Dean just let out a shaky sigh, a small grin appearing on his face. “Nothing.” He only then said, making you let out a small, breathy laugh. 

"You really are something, Dean Winchester," You teased, watching as Dean's cheeks flushed lightly, highlighting the many freckles placed there.

With that comment, he gave you a playful pout, but before he could say anything, Sam popped into the room. "Yes, yes, he is truly something. Now, something is going to happen to the two of you if I don't get my food." He spoke grumpily before heading back into the library.

Bringing your eyes back on Dean, his grin just turned into a smirk, his green eyes glancing from your eyes to your lips, and back, “Well, you heard him... I should be gettin' that pizza. Don't want little Sammy to have a tantrum.” With that, he stood up and grabbed his keys from the coffee table. You let out a sigh you didn't even know that you were holding as Dean turned to you. "Want to ride with me? I can tell you all about that time Sam and I found the source of all evil in a Vegan factory." He asked, twirling the key ring around his finger, the keys clashing. 

Sputtering out a short laugh, you rolled your eyes, "Of course, just don't get all upset when I fall asleep." You answered, standing up, already feeling a bit sluggish as Dean wrapped an arm around your waist, your arm then wrapping around his; making your way up the stairs. 

Once outside of the bunker, Dean leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, "Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart."

[saturnaftertaste]

who wins the psychological problems olympics, betty or cheryl?

oooh tough one! cousin v. cousin battle

to me it really depends on what you consider as their psychological problems. are we talking about how much they suffered and what psychological problems they hypothetically would end up with? or are we talking about the way the given traumas present themselves through the characters in the show?

interestingly enough despite the show running from the late 2010s to the early 2020s, we don’t get an actual mention of any dsm-certified mental illness until archie starts seeing dead soldiers post-The War and gets diagnosed with ptsd. (i don’t even remember if that was said outright but i do remember in s6 they use armchair psych terms in reference to archie’s sexual abuse from s1).

anyway a case could be made for either; our introduction to betty is of her being reminded by her mother to Take Her Pills without any later reference to what those pills might be or why she was taking them; i think it was a 50s-housewife-valium habit she was trying to pre-install in betty just to make sure she didn’t end up like polly. that being said, however, i do think that betty has, AT LEAST, some garden-variety anxiety disorder/some other mild form of clinically diagnosable mental illness - what with the pills and physical manifestation of unconscious self-harm. on the trauma end, factor in hal’s grooming of her to carry on their serial-killer legacy and the memories she repressed of her childhood, plus the fact that she was a victim of every major riverdale event (black hood, gng + THE FARM, stonewall prep death fakeout, polly’s disappearance, TBK, percival and rivervale) not to mention alice’s ways and behaviors that she was subject to. still, nothing about betty changes. the black hood and then TBK become representative of her “darkness” and what she could do if she “gave in”, but that’s always been like betty’s narrative thread, that if she ever Let Herself Go you would see Terrible Things Happen. so really, post-all this trauma, what’s really changed about betty? the answer is nothing! despite having endured ALL of this, betty remains the girl-next-door, albeit with a different job (but still an extension of her childhood interests!) whatever you want to call it - shoddy CW character work, jughead’s fucked up narrative keeping her in the girl-next-door role, or even meta commentary and the implication of Cycles in this Town, betty doesn’t change. she still wants to investigate, she still wants to date archie, she’s still the only “sane” one left. she has all this trauma, all these things that happen to her, and yet they exist outside of Betty as a being.

cheryl on the other hand has her traumas stacking like jenga. obviously her family was very much steeped in gothic horror from the jump, because even though riverdale is set in 2017, they did not bother modernizing the kind of strange context provided for the blossoms, and mind you, this is before the ghosts and the transgender twin-dolls and witches were all apparent. like from the very start there is this weird anachronism of the blossoms, who are like holding onto wealth from early colonial times and have like a house built like a crypt but also a teenage daughter who is the head cheerleader at the local public highschool (speaking of, why did cheryl and jason not attend stonewall prep?). not to say that maple syrup barons (?) don’t exist in today’s day and age, moreso that cheryl and her family contain weird multitudes. like what i’m trying to say is that cheryl’s original characterization as the mean rich girl struck by tragedy is the combination of two tropes at once - both regina george and jane eyre at once, but they exist like, separately from each other. unlike betty, however, over time the two become intertwined - cheryl hosts highschool parties at her gothic mansion. she crushes on a girl and sends her a pig’s heart . and as for the things she’s suffered. well. the weird insular nature of the blossom family makes it that her best friend and only confidante is her twin, who dies a violent death at the hands of her father, who then commits suicide, leaving her with her mother who hates her. this, then followed by the discovery of her own repressed homosexuality, plus her mother’s rejection of it, attempted murder of her and her subsequent conversion therapy at the soqm — the stakes for cheryl just keep stacking. this is also only around season 2 - we aren’t even talking about her extended family that come to visit, her stint with THE FARM, jason’s taxidermied body in the living room, the insanity that is nana rose. abigail blossom, julian blossom, the Haunting of Thistlehouse…

cheryl literally attempts suicide at the end of season one. like actively, you know what i mean? I think the key difference between cheryl and betty is that despite them literally having the same hereditary emotional abuse issues in their respective families (family?), betty is given a “normal” to return to. if her house is insane at any given moment, she can run to one of the other core four, and they help each other cope through other various insane behaviors (ie. investigating murders and leaving to cabins in the woods and whatever) and you know what they say! a problem shared among a sexually-charged almost-polycule is a burden halved! even that time penelope and hal trapped them in the woods, they had each other to go through the trials with. veronica drank poison for her. “as friends”!

on the flip side, every day of cheryl’s life is quite almost like that time the corefour polycule was trapped in the woods in that penelope tormented cheryl for the entire time they lived together. no friends, no one who knows her reality EXCEPT jason, who gets murdered by their father. cheryl never really had a normal or even an IDEA of normal to return to, because once she lost jason, realistically she had nothing left to live for. of COURSE people thought she was fucking her brother, the toxic codependency is intrinsic to cheryl’s personality and up until jason dies, i doubt she was known as anything but the girl obsessed with her brother. jason is replaced by ronnie is replaced by archie is replaced by josie is finally replaced by toni, who then is subject to all of cheryl’s insanity. cheryl, who doesn’t actually recognize that keeping her dead brother’s body taxidermied in a wheel chair is not “normal” behaviour, because she has no idea what normal is thanks to her parents’ wealth shielding them from both CPS and her peers, meaning she doesn’t have a baseline for “normal”. if alice cooper did one thing right as a mother, it’s that she was so bent on suburban normalcy for her family that it helped betty realise she was facing emotional abuse and that she needed to get out/confront alice, which is what she does several times. the blossoms’ wealth made it easier for them to isolate cheryl entirely meaning that she, now, is learning how to function thanks to toni and occasionally betty and veronica. betty can re-set every time something bad happens. cheryl just keeps stacking her stuff.

tldr: cheryl wins. by a long shot. the girl was born to be mentally ill, unfortunately. suits her though!

[victoriaplaysims]

the whole family had a great day at the parkl <3

this pandasama rocking horse is so cute

speaking of horses - ish; i sold the vet clinic (tbh i just forgot about it when betty passed away hehe). i had a good time but i wish the gameplay wasn't glitchy and, mostly, that it was possible to have the ui paitent info available for more than one playable/household vet. ngl it was a bit hard to diagnose with zero facts lol. i do recommend playing the vet career though, it was really fun!

casey rolled a wish to have another baby, just as finn was aging up. you know me at this point, i never turn down the opportunity to have another baby lol. (except maybe when it's triplets bc that's so so many babies all at once)

[transmutationisms]

besides the time period gags, is there a more comedically didactic scene in mad men than the bit in s2 when don's at the dentist and hallucinates his brother saying "it's not your tooth that's rotten"

SLSKDLDK was that really in s2 i thought it was later... but yeah classic mad men writing move... i think it's on par with the episode where the photographer shows up to SCDP and is taking publicity shots of don, and asks rhetorically "who is don draper?" after having posed him and rearranged his office, and the scene literally like fades out on don's self-uncertain frown. another good one is when he gets diagnosed with high blood pressure and then it immediately cuts to him eating bacon and eggs or some shit. oh and what about like every scene in s1 involving betty's socially shunned divorced friend who wears pants. or the lane's abusive father reveal. look sometimes mad men is great and sometimes it simply has the moral subtlety of the average victorian children's book