#but I suppose Archie started the exact same way didn’t it?

[zippityzap]

Will probably wait until I’m done with Sonictober but I am interested in the future of potentially opening up requests for StC/Fleetway characters to draw because StC has SO MANY cool characters I can’t choose on my own who to draw

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (Autumn in New York, pt 2)

summary: (ch 1) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - ch 10) an end to our NYC journey

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, lots of food, NYC, pizza rat

word count: 6k on the dot

a/n: i wrote most of this when i should have been sleeping,,, so yeah. i wanna go to nyc now. HERE IT IS THE FINALE BON APETIT Y’ALL

Y/n opened her eyes very slowly. In the in-between of sleep and wake, her brain had painted a picture of her old room in the bookstore. Yes, she could still see the curtains blowing in the breeze let in by the open window. The early morning glow on the floorboards. Douxie’s soft snoring filling her ears. Yes, yes, she was home and everything felt right. And then, slowly, it wasn’t. The warm wooden floorboards faded into a white carpet, and suddenly she didn’t know what she was looking at anymore. It was disorienting. She wasn’t in her own bed. Right. New York.

She turned over onto her back and was startled when she realized Douxie was actually there, next to her. His snoring wasn’t her dream, like it had been many times before when this exact thing had happened to her. Right again. Douxie loved her back now. That was an actual thing in real life and not just her dreams. Y/n supposed it would have been weirder if he wasn’t next to her. In the scheme of things. But that didn’t mean she would be used to it any time soon. But that was good. A pleasant surprise every morning. A little burst of serotonin, as a treat.

Y/n looked at the little hot pink alarm clock. 5:48am. Good! Right on time. Just enough minutes to get everyone out the door by 6:30 as was planned. Douxie… was not going to like this. She looked over the wizard’s sleeping form. She’d let him have his rest while she showered, leaving him blissfully unaware of what’s to come. Even then he might put up a fight. Y/n popped her head into the living room to check on Nari. Still sound asleep, snug as a bug on the fluffy couch with Archie. All good. She preceded with her morning routine.

Y/n pulled on her sneakers. She supposed she really must wake Doux now. They were running out of time. She stopped dead in her tracks when she caught sight of him. If an awake Douxie was cute, then a sleeping Douxie was absolutely adorable. All Y/n’s adoration belonged to this man who was sound asleep, and therefore could not fully appreciate her doting. She had to get some pictures. Just a few, then she’ll wake him up for sure this time.

Y/n was leaning over Doux, getting closer for a better angle, when she heard his voice, muffled by the pillow he had his gorgeous face half buried into. She strained to be able to make out what he was saying.

“y-y/n…” The dopiest grin spread across his still-sleeping features.

Y/n heart was filled with so much love it might burst. And her face was so hot it might catch on fire. He was dreaming. Of her. It looked like it was a good dream, too. Even when unconscious, he stilled cared for her. His snoozing brain could have conjured up anyone, anyone in the world he’d met in the last nine centuries, and it chose her. What a wonderful feeling it was to be chosen. He had married her, she knew he had chosen her, but it still felt special to be chosen again, and again, and again, as it would through the future to come. She didn’t even know why she had done it, asked him to marry her, that is. What had possessed her. Even as she did, she had half expected him to brush it off, or maybe offer a ‘someday’, but never in her wildest dreams would she have expected him to take it as seriously as he did. Never would she have expected him to be so eager. To declare, tomorrow. She ran her hand down his arm.

“Dewdrop, you need to wake up.” He half-opened his eyes, before groaning and shutting them again in defiance. Five more minutes. Douxie was not a morning person. Neither was Y/n, but she always seemed to be up before him still. He needed to get back to her anyways. She was waiting for him in-. Someone tapped his nose repeatedly. Fine. Awake it is then.

Douxie finally opened his eyes, taking in the form of the goddess leaning over him. Oh. Maybe this was better than the dream. Were her hands on him? Yes, she was stroking his face. This definitely was better. With the small price to pay of being awake. He’d pay it happily. Give her all he had. His time, what he was made of, was a sacrifice to the most beautiful goddess. Aphrodite be damned.

She pulled him out of bed by the arm and led him to the shower. “Come on, get ready, we have to go.” She started the process of braiding back her hair.

“Wait,”

“What?”

“Stop, I want to do your hair for you.”

Y/n laughed, dropping the strands in her grasp. “Okay.”

Douxie brushed through his own drying hair and tossed it back. He went to go find Y/n, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through a website on her phone, double checking a time. He sat next to her. Douxie ran his fingers through her locks.

“Hmm, I’m thinking… a pretty five strand.”

“and I’m thinking you need to put on some clothes first,” She pointed to the towel wrapped around his hips, “You can always braid my hair later, but you need to be dressed so we can walk out the door. We’re on a time crunch here, Dewdrop.”

“So be it.” Douxie smiled as he got up to go fulfil his wife’s request.

Now fully dressed and actually ready to go, Douxie busied himself with Y/n’s hair again. “How are we on time?”

“We should be good, as long as you don’t do anything too fancy.”

“I won’t-”

“You said five strands, like a challah bread or something. That’s fancy.”

Douxie laughed, “Okay, but it won’t take long, I promise.”

Douxie’s fingers made quick and clever work of the strands of hair. He made sure to keep it tight, but not too tight. He used to see lovers plait each other’s hair back in the day. He would look on longingly, wishing he had someone to do the same with. And now he did. Maybe he would consider growing his hair back out, if it gave Y/n the same opportunity. Not the manbun though. He was not considering bringing back the fucking manbun by any means. But having Y/n plait it every day, that would be pleasant. Not at all a cringey hairstyle. And Y/n had mentioned to him how pretty she thought past-his long hair was.

He pulled the strands further away from her neck as he was getting closer to the ends. He had to admit, he had planned on doing something a little fancier, but this would have to do. Y/n seemed anxious to make whatever deadline she had given herself. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to do this,” he chuckled, and his breath on her ear made her shiver, “You cannot imagine how many times I’ve dreamed of running my fingers through your hair, My Love. It just. Looked so soft.” Douxie pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “And… Done!”

Douxie leaned back to admire his work. Simple, like she wanted, but very intricate the same. Y/n turned around to him as she headed for the bathroom mirror, taking note of how proud he looked. She turned her head this way and that in the mirror.

“Wow, this is so cute, Dewdrop. How’d you get so good.”

“Thank you, centuries of practice you see.”

Y/n giggled as she checked the clock. 6:34. “OH come on we’re gonna miss the subway.”

~~~

The subway was a magical place. Y/n sure thought so. All you had to do was step down a random staircase in the middle of the sidewalk, a nifty portal, and suddenly you were in an underground maze of commuters. Nari thought the turnstiles were odd. She just walked under it, and no one around the seemed to care, so Y/n just let her. Paying one less fare was no sweat off her back. The tiles that lined the wall were very dirty. There were mystery stains on the floor. Well, not that one the she just pulled Nari away from. That was definitely dried blood. The sound of a million grumpy people milling about and the coming and going of trains was all that Y/n could hear. She gripped Douxie’s hand tight as she double checked the map to see if they were about to board the right line. The 4 train would take them to the Brooklyn Bridge-City Hall station, right where they needed to go. This was the right way.

Right before the train arrived, Nari pointed to a spot across the hall. “Look, Archie.”

Crawling up the side of the platform was a rat. A big, fat rat. A big, fat rat with something in its mouth, carrying it up to the top. Once the rat did pull his prize up to the platform, it was plain to see. A slice of pepperoni pizza. Douxie had no idea where such a creature would acquire a perfectly whole slice of pizza this early in the morning, or, at all. Maybe it someone dropped it last night and abandoned it? The rat looked a bit scruffy. Did he have to fight off other rats for this prime piece of pie? This month had started of pretty normal for Doux but now he was standing in a subway station, holding the hand of his wife, pondering the secret life of a New York rat with a slice of pizza in its little mouth. Marvelous. Douxie felt Archie dig his claws into his shoulders, and making a chattering sound.

“Please Arch, we don’t have time for you to eat that rat.”

“But you just know it tastes like pizza, it’s got the grease all over its fur-”

“Archie, I fucking swear-”

Doux was cut off from his swearing by the train pulling in. The people who exited it rushed past, all having somewhere to be. None of them stopping to take in the wonder that was the pizza rat. Archie was sad to board the train and leave the rat. He’d get over it. The crowd of people all rushing in at once startled Nari. She clung to Y/n’s side. Since it was so early in the morning, a lot of commuters filled the train, and there wasn’t any seating left by the time they got there. Douxie gripped the ceiling bar, Y/n gripped his arm as if it was a ceiling bar, and Nari held on tight to Y/n. Douxie stared out the window in a trance as the world wooshed by him. This truly was a bizarre situation to be in. If you had told him last month that he would be here, he would have, well, not laughed, since his life was strange enough that he wouldn’t doubt it, but he would at least harbor some disbelief. There was their station.

Y/n checked the time as they stepped out onto the platform. 6:59. They needed to hurry. She tugged on Douxie’s arm. “C’mon!”

They made it to the Brooklyn Bridge just in time. Douxie was still confused about why Y/n was so adamant about being here so early in the morning. As they walked over it towards Manhattan, he understood. The early morning sun started rising just as they started the walk. The city skyline was glowing. The brilliant pinks and oranges painted the sky and everything around them. Each skyscraper glittered with the light reflecting off the windows. It was breathtaking.

The walk itself was quite relaxing. Douxie wouldn’t call the air fresh, smog and all that, but it was nice, cool and crisp. Pigeons flew by, adding their two cents in conversations only they could understand. The cars on the road next to them zoomed past. Every car had a person, and that person had somewhere to be at this early hour. Doux hoped they made it to their destinations safely. Every once and a while he would hear a honk, although he wasn’t sure from where it came. Douxie put his arm over Y/n’s shoulder to pull her closer to him. The journey from Brooklyn to Manhattan took about forty-five minutes, but it was peaceful thinking time, and Doux was grateful. Sure, plenty could go wrong, with them being on a bridge above the ocean that they were sharing with lots of fast cars, but with Y/n so close to him, he was able to put all that out of his mind.

As they reentered Manhattan, Y/n took no time at all in leading her family to a diner. She was hungry, okay? She needed breakfast. And coffee. Surely Archie would agree with her. It was food time.

Diner coffee was the best. Douxie didn’t care what fancy gourmet stuff the trendy coffee shops came out with, diner coffee would always be the best. It just had a certain je ne sais quoi. Maybe it was the vibe. Whatever it was, it was just what he needed right now at 8:00am. Not only was he unsure of how he made it this long without any caffeine, Douxie was kind of surprised he was getting away with having Archie with him, in all these places, in broad daylight. Guess his shoulder cat wasn’t the strangest thing New Yorkers had seen. Said shoulder cat was scarfing down a plate of eggs and bacon.

Y/n told Doux the rest of what she planned on having them do today over breakfast. Not much else, but enough. They’d still be out of the house until evening. That was fine. He couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be than wherever she was. As they left, they passed by a couple of kids inputting songs into the jukebox with devilish smirks. They were leaving just in time then.

Next up was a ferry ride to Staten Island. The ferry was constant, running every half hour, therefore they only had to wait a few minutes before it arrived once again for them to board. They found their seats on the upper deck, as per Y/n’s request. Apparently, this was because their reason for riding the ferry was not in fact to get to Staten Island like Douxie had thought. The purpose of the trip was to look out and see Bedloe’s Island and Lady Liberty who made her home there as the ferry cruised by it.

Y/n made Douxie hold Archie up so she could get a picture of him with the statue in the background. Archie was used to the strangeness of his familiar and his wife so the dragon cat didn’t question it. Archie_the_emo_kitty fans were going to love this. Y/n also got some of Nari and the gang. And a couples picture, but sadly, kissing Douxie’s cheek for a photo just didn’t get the same reaction as before. He was still a little pink though, as he was during all her showers of affection, so Y/n counted that as a victory.

Staten Island is hailed as the greenest borough, and thus the perfect place for Nari. After letting her run through a park for a while, they grabbed lunch at a Sri Lankan restaurant before taking the ferry back. Their clothes would smell like curry and spices for the rest of the day. Delicious, and worth it.

~~~

“Why are we going to a bar at 2pm?”

“Oh, you know, I figured day drinking was the next step for our vacation vibes,” Y/n answered Archie sarcastically, “Yeah, no. We’re just going up there to look out their window for the view.”

“You humans and your obsession with views.” Archie really didn’t see the big deal here. Whatever. He’d have to go whether he liked it or not.

Looking out over the city form the skyscraper bar’s wide window, Douxie felt uneasy. This bar’s claim to fame was this window that offered the view of the Empire State building. A building that used to be the tallest in the world. And then a younger and brighter architect built a higher one in Dubai. Makes sense. Nothing ever lasts long. He looked down at Y/n standing beside him. Maybe something would last long. He’d do everything in his power to make sure of it.

The last touristy thing Y/n wanted to see for the night was Broadway. It was getting chillier now that the sun was sinking, and Douxie magicked Y/n up a coat that was thicker than his old hoodie that she had been wearing nonstop since she stole it he gave it to her. However, she had been complaining about it losing its smell lately and telling him he needed to wear it again. Although she’d yet to let him have it back. She looked cute in the new coat. She looked cute in everything. Douxie was biased.

Broadway was covered in bright lights. The rows of theaters advertised their shows on big, dramatic signs. They weren’t going to go see any of the musicals, but it was fun to stroll down the street and see everything it had to offer. The world was bathed in an opulent gold, even the light in Y/n’s eyes as she led him down the way. Fitting, she was golden. Douxie felt like everything she touched turned to gold, like that old myth. He supposed that made him golden too.

One last stop before they went home for the night, a grocery market. They passed by so many Italian restaurants on their way from Broadway, Y/n was craving gnocchi. After hearing her talk about it during the walk, Douxie was too. Douxie held the handbasket while Y/n gathered the produce they needed for the soup. Plums were in season, and Y/n convinced Doux to let her make a few into some sweet rolls. Well, not convinced, he was all for it, she just had to ask. His cheeks were tinted just ever so slightly pink. He knew she’d known him for a really long time, so of course she knew all his favorite foods, but it still made him feel special that she’d take the time to memorize it. To memorize him. They got the cream, eggs, and butter they needed before starting the journey back to the apartment. Douxie carried all three of the bags. He wouldn’t let Y/n or Nari take one. He appreciated them offering, but, it’s not like they were heavy.

The ole’ valentines suite was just as lovey dovey as when they left it. They got to work on dinner as soon as they took off their coats. Nari and Archie took their places perched on the couch. The thing about being cute is you never have to work for your dinner, someone is always feeding you. It was alright, Douxie liked it this way better anyhow. This way he got to cook with Y/n as a special thing, just the two of them. They used to cook with each other a lot back when they were roommates. In fact, every weekend they put aside time to cook a meal together. It was tradition. Douxie had always wanted hug Y/n from behind while she stirred whatever was in the pan. He couldn’t do that then, but he definitely could now. Every time she had lifted a spoon to his lips, instructed him to taste, had been a knife jammed into his chest. She was always right there, so close he could touch, and he couldn’t do anything about it back then. He’d have to make up for lost time then.

Y/n put the potato pot on to boil and started on the sweet roll dough, asking Douxie if he’d chop up the vegetables for the soup. Aww, guess he had a job and couldn’t just spend this whole time hanging on her. Oh well, he’d chop. That was often his role in their cooking exploits. He’d admit, he had almost chopped his fingers a few times when he got too distracted sneaking glances at Y/n. He was a danger to himself really.

Y/n set the dough out to rise and started pitting and slicing up the plums. They wouldn’t need them for an hour or so, but might as well get them prepared and set aside. Douxie was still chopping the soup veggies, albeit slowly. Y/n thought he looked like he might be a little too far into his head.

“Hey Dewdrop,” Douxie looked at her, puzzled, “lets sing something to pass the time, yeah?”

Douxie was happy to sing with his beloved, and Y/n was happy to get Doux distracted from whatever was bothering him. And it was fun. Really fun. Y/n forgot how much she missed singing with people. Douxie’s voice meshed really well with hers. She really couldn’t believe that he liked her voice and that it was as pretty as he had been telling her lately, but she didn’t really care about that anymore; whether or not her voice was good or if it was embarrassing. She just liked singing, and sharing that with Doux felt special.

Potato mashing was a fun way to let off steam, Douxie had found. The more anger you let out on the potato, the better it was. Reminded him of back when Merlin would put him on kitchen duty for a day as punishment. He took out his frustrations on the potatoes then too. The old kitchen master encouraged it. After Douxie mashed those potatoes for her, Y/n added in the flower and salt, and began kneading the dough. Now Y/n didn’t know about mash potatoes for anger management but dough kneading was where it’s at. This was just gnocchi dough though, so it wasn’t worked too hard.

Now for the fun part, making the shapes. Now you could just go with the normal fork rolled gnocchi, but where’s the creativity in that. No, Douxie and Y/n liked to have little competitions of who could come up with the coolest looking gnocchi shape whenever they made this recipe. This time, Douxie won by making his dough ball into the form of a little rat, a tip of the hat to this glorious city they were in, and Y/n lost her shit. She wouldn’t let him make any more though, they didn’t need to be eating rat soup. That would be disrespectful to ratatouille.

Eventually, Y/n did start standing around stirring the pot of broth, and Douxie got his blessed hug from behind opportunity. Yep, this was just as good as he dreamed it would be. He got to watch what she was doing from over her shoulder, pepper her neck in kisses, and every now and then she’d turn to grab his face and kiss him too. At one point, tired of the short pecks, Y/n fully turned around, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a more serious kiss. Y/n was obviously the more forward one in this relationship, but it still took Douxie by surprise every time. A good surprise, the best kind even. Each and every kiss they shared became the new favorite moment of his life, this one was no exception. Their lips moved together slowly, taking the time to savor every second of each other’s presence. Maybe a little too much. They didn’t pull apart until they heard Archie make a gagging noise. Y/n laughed as she turned back to the soup. Douxie shot Archie an angry glare before going back to his place over her shoulder. Yes, this was the most perfect way to spend an evening, rude dragon-cats aside. The soup smelled heavenly. But he didn’t want it to be ready quite so soon. Soup could wait, cuddles were priority right now.

But of course, the soup did finish cooking, and the lovebirds had to separate. Y/n though it was adorable how disgruntled Douxie was at this development. Actually eating the soup cheered him right back up however. It was delicious, It was the best soup they’d ever made. Must be the love. And the cuddles. Yeah, that’s what made it so tasty. This was honeymoon soup.

After dinner, Y/n got to work on the sweet rolls. After kneading the dough one last time and rolling it out, she let Nari help her place the filling and roll em up. The little goddess thought rolling up the dough was entertaining, and she liked how the end result looked like little roses. After putting the bake in the oven, Y/n gravitated over to that floor to ceiling window.

The city never slept, and it was just as abuzz as it was during the day, if not busier. Y/n sat cross-legged on the floor, gazing out at it all. Headlights of cars flew by. Pedestrians strolled with their shopping bags, bundled up in coats and scarves. Every moment passed was the present, and then suddenly it was the past. Y/n couldn’t tell the future. She couldn’t guess what person or car she would see next, and who knows what or who will walk by in this city, New York. There was a way to expect it and yet no way to know for sure.

The oven timer dinged, and Y/n got up to take the rolls out. The sugary smell filled the apartment. Y/n tried to swat Nari’s hand away from the just-out-of-the-oven pastries, but turns out the heat didn’t affect the veggie lady’s hands at all. Nari had heat resistant paws. Y/n supposed that probably came in handy dealing with that other Order member that was all fiery. Douxie was the real one she had to watch. It seemed he never got past the moppet stage of not thinking about the consequences of putting a molten hot sweet roll in his mouth. And he was good at sneaking them too, from all his years of doing so in the castle. Y/n rolled her eyes at his antics, but secretly thought it was cute. After the rolls had properly cooled, she took her own to-go as she found herself pulled back to that window once again.

Y/n ate her plum roll, watching it all, thinking about the future that was simultaneously always present and never coming. Y/n felt Douxie sit beside her, silently. He had yet to say a word to her after a few seconds, so she scooted a little closer to him so she could lay her head on his shoulder. Soon she felt his arm wrap around her, pulling her in tighter against him. Y/n waited another beat before speaking up, “Hey,”

“Hey.”

“I was wondering.” She said slowly.

“Yeah?”

“What happens after this?”

Douxie was taken off guard. He cleared his throat, “uhhh, I-”

“Like assuming we ever do defeat the order, which we will,” Douxie smiled at her confidence, “what’s next for us, Dewdrop?”

Doux had to take a moment to think. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about this himself, and if anything being able to give Y/n a good future consumed a lot of his thoughts, but he’d never been able to find a plan he felt like he could stick with. “I- I don’t know, Love. I’m sure we could return to Arcadia, if that would be something you would want. I’d never really settled down anywhere before that little town. And, I think, I’d want to go back.” Douxie’s eyes stared unblinking into the city lights, “It’s home now. In a perfect ending where everything resets when the war’s over, that is.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “We’ll have to wait and see. Things never really stay the same for long. Even if we can’t go back, we’ll find home somewhere. We’ll go home.”

Y/n pulled her legs out from under her, bringing them in close to her chest. “It is something I would want. Take me home, Hisirdoux. Is that a promise?”

Douxie took her hand and kissed her knuckles, “That’s a promise.”

The silence enveloped them once again. Stars knew how long they sat there, looking out in silence. Y/n practically fell asleep leaning on Doux. She yawned really big and Douxie smiled fondly as he got up, taking care to not disturb her too much as he scooped her up bridal style. “Come on Love, let’s go to bed.”

After gently placing Y/n in bed and snuggling in with her, Douxie let himself savor this now mundane moment between them. It was strange to think that just last month this simple thing would have short circuited him. He heard her giggle sleepily and raised an eyebrow.

“If we ever rebuild the bookshop, I want,,” She trailed off. Now Douxie was curious.

“Yes?” He further prompted.

“I want to make half of it a tea room, can we do that?”

“I- yeah I can certainly see about that.”

Y/n giggled again, “With fancy teacups?” she said groggily.

Douxie smiled, humoring her, “With fancy teacups.”

“Aannddd. And. Maybe,,” she whispered, “a baby.”

Douxie took in a sharp breath. Wow. He tried his best to keep his voice from cracking, “and a baby.” He wasn’t sure if Y/n even heard him as she was now snoring in his arms. A baby. He’d give her every baby she wanted. Raise a whole brood of moppets. Or just the one. Or none if she changed her mind. He’d be happy either way. But there was something about the thought of her wanting to have a baby with him that just made his whole face flush. He probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight now. Douxie was anything but new to insomnia, but he’d never had such a sweet thing to be the cause of it before. His heart was going to melt. He pressed a kiss to Y/n’s hair. Yeah, he would be happy to melt here with her.

~~~

No early start to this day. Y/n didn’t have many things planned, so sleeping in was the main event of the morning. Douxie was completely okay with that, encouraged it even. He rarely got a day off to sleep in. And with Y/n in his arms? It was that much sweeter. But eventually they did leave the house, grabbing some leftover plum rolls on their way out for breakfast. They couldn’t just keep Nari indoors, it didn’t take long for her to get antsy. There was still plenty of things to do and see in New York so off they went.

First stop of the day, the flat iron building. They stood on the sidewalk across the street from it, the crowd instinctually parting to walk around them without caring.

“look at it. It’s triangular.”

“It, it sure is.” Douxie kinda looked to the side, unsure of how he was supposed to be reacting.

“Yeah I didn’t know what I was expecting.” Back in the subway and on to the market then.

Specifically Chelsea Market. Douxie got a weird feeling as he walked through the doors. Strange, he felt like they were being watched. Which of course they were, they were in one of the most populous cities in America after all. But like, a different, more sinister feeling of being watched. He brushed it off.

They wandered through the shops for quite a while. Y/n and Archie had decided that they needed to see everything that the market had to offer before they picked something. Douxie was just hungry. These damn foodies he lived with were always making him wait for lunch. Just pick something. Food was food. Most of the time he could say no to Archie but there was no way he could say no to his wife, ever. He had to work on that.

One of the signs caught Y/n’s eye immediately, Fat Witch Bakery. Well, they couldn’t not check that out. Once inside, they discovered the little shop exclusively sold brownies. Good brownies at that. Douxie wasn’t found of brownies, or anything chocolate flavored, but he had a couple bites of Y/n’s. It was okay, one of the better chocolate things he’d had. Y/n scarfed the rest down.

“Mmmm, good thing we don’t live here, or I’d be a fat witch myself in no time.”

A lot of the market was decorated for Christmas already, despite it being October. The lights were pretty. Y/n was disgruntled they skipped Halloween though. Douxie had to laugh at her little pout when she complained about it. She really was the cutest thing on the planet. He couldn’t help teasing her about it, which she responded with mock anger. He gave her a quick peck to help placate her. It worked.

They came across a seafood place and suddenly Archie was done looking around. It was nice to have some fresh fish, as they were on the coast. Archie missed that about California. All this traveling inland was depriving him of his proper seafood diet. Dragons like him could only eat so many hamburgers before they got sick of it. Fresh caught fish was the best food that existed.

After finally having lunch, it was time to head over to the next sight-see. Grand Central Station. They had nowhere to be, no reason to use the station for its intended purpose. Douxie guessed this was just another thing Y/n wanted to stand in and look at. He didn’t quite get it himself, but he thought it was adorable that Y/n had so many things she wanted to see, so much of the world she wanted to touch. He wanted to take her everywhere. He was old, and had seen so many things that not much amazed him anymore, but not her, the world was still magic in her eyes. He loved seeing that twinkle in her eyes, made him feel like he was shiny and new too.

Douxie posed with Archie in front of a clock for Y/n in the station. Doux stuck out his tongue, giving her the sign of the horns while Archie stood on his shoulder, trying to look tough. She snickered as she took the shot of her boys. She took photos everywhere they went. Not of the tourist destinations, per se, but of Douxie, Archie, Nari, interacting with them. Her family, having fun. Good memories to be stored. She was slowly rebuilding her association with the word family into something positive. Every passing day, her past felt like more of a bad dream. The future may be uncertain, but at least there would be love in it.

Nari wanted to go visit Central Park again. There was a petunia in one of the gardens was a particularly good conversationalist, and Nari wanted to ask them how their day had been. The park was a great way to spend the afternoon, so of course they’d indulge the veggie lady without qualm. Y/n was looking forward to getting to explore more of the park they didn’t see last time.

As they were walking around a corner, on their way to said park. Douxie got that strange feeling once again. They were being watched. He tried not to let it show. He didn’t need Y/n to worry, and he was confident he could take care of whatever it was that was making him feel this way. He was Hisirdoux Casperan, successor of Merlin Ambrosius and currently the most powerful wizard alive. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect his family. If whatever was stalking them dared to show its face, he’d be ready.

There was a scruffy man on the street corner, shouting about the end of the world.

“The world’s gonna end, we’re all gonna die!”

This man wasn’t completely crazy, but it’s not like he actually knew what was going on in the world of magic. Douxie tossed him a coin.

“Not on my watch.”

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Reggie//everyone loves a cliche

Request: Can I request a reader/Reggie with sort of the cliche footballer/cheerleader stereotype sort of fluff plot wise

hey! i hope this is what you wanted! i had a lot of fun writing this!

- At first, you and Reggie don’t like each other 

- Which is kind of a cliche in itself 

- He’s too arrogant 

- You’re to ‘preppy’

- Whatever the hell thats supposed to mean

- But its not like you hate each other

- You never go out of your way to make the others lives miserable 

- Just if there’s a mention of one of you, the other will roll their eyes 

- Any other time, you just try to avoid each other.

- But that becomes a bit more difficult when your best friends start dating

- Veronica and Archie become a thing 

- Meaning there is literally no escape from each other 

- Queue an endless amount of third and fourth wheeling

- ‘you’re the fourth wheel’ 

- ‘isn’t that better than third?’ 

- ‘no because you’re last’ 

- ^Just a snippet of the arguments you would have while Veronica and Archie shove their tongues down each others throats 

- So now you’re forced together regularly

- And because you usually have to spend time at Pop’s, you either have to sit next to or opposite each other. 

- God help anybody who thinks you’re a couple

- Or even just friends tbh

- ‘you think we’re dating?’

- ‘you think i would go anywhere near him?!’ 

- ‘exactl-hey! if anyone is rejecting anyone. its me rejecting you.’

- ‘you keep telling yourself that.’ 

- ‘i just asked for your order...’

- But one day something changes

- Archie and Veronica are late 

- How? You don’t know because you left practice at the same time

- And she’d specifically told you during practice that you were all going to Pop’s straight after. 

- So now you and Reggie have to be alone for a while

- As soon as you walk into the diner and see Reggie sat alone, your smile vanishes

- You’d already had a rubbish day

- And now you have to drag yourself over to sit opposite him

- ‘hey pom-poms. i thought cheerleaders were supposed to be happy all the time.’ 

- ‘i’m not in the mood reg. where’s veronica?’

- ‘probably wherever archie is.’

- ‘...’

- ‘whats up?’ 

- ‘do you actually care or do you just want something to gossip about in the locker room?’ 

- ‘do i look like cheryl blossom to you?’ 

- You’d crack a smile at that which would spark something unfamiliar in him

- ‘no...thank god’ 

- ‘i’ve heard a problem shared is a problem halved’ 

- ‘and where exactly did you hear that?’

- ‘its just something my mom used to say to me’ 

- ‘used to?’ 

- ‘we don’t really talk much anymore. but come on, tell me whats wrong.’ 

- ‘i’ve just had a bit of a crappy day. everything just got on top of me and then i ended it with a really rough practice.’ 

- ‘well, good news is that you’re crappy day is over, and you survived it. plus, i’ve seen you practice and you’re great.’ 

- ‘you’re just saying that.’ 

- ‘when do i ever just say things...especially nice things...and especially about you.’ 

- ‘true’

- ‘don’t tell cheryl, but i think you’re the best on that team.’

- Both of you would blush and look away, not really sure of what to say and praying for Archie and Veronica to turn up soon.

- A few minutes of some very awkward silence, they eventually turn up

- And both of you would be extremely thankful. 

- After that you start to look at him differently 

- And he starts to notice small things about you 

- Things shift between you ever so subtly

- Instead of rolling your eyes, they would light up at the mention of the other 

- And instead of avoiding each other, you found yourselves looking for the other 

- If one of you told a joke, you’d look at the other to see if they were laughing 

- And small looks would be shared between the two of you whenever Archie and Veronica were doing something gross

- Both of you would start to look forward to being the third and fourth wheel 

- Because now it doesn’t really feel like it anymore

- And slowly your friends start to notice the changes

- Subtle and not so subtle 

- Especially when you start hanging out with each other, without the need of anyone else being there 

- So now its just a matter of time 

- Which thankfully isn’t that long

- A month later...

- Veronica and Archie are late...yet again 

- But you don’t mind 

- Sometime you and Reggie go to Pop’s early so you can spend some time together before they turn up

- By the time Reggie gets there, you’ve already ordered his food and he feels his heart skip a beat because you actually remembered his favourite 

- ‘archie text me and apparently something has come up.’

- ‘i don’t want to know whats up.’ You’d reply with a scrunch of your nose.

- He’d chuckle softly and your mind would go blank for a few seconds 

- Because you made him do that! 

- You could happily hear that noise every single day for the rest of your life and never get sick of it

- Oh crap

- Do you like Reggie Mantle?

- Like more than a friend???

- Maybe even love him?!?!

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’

- ‘what? yeah...just thinking.’

- ‘remember, a problem shared is a problem halved’

- ‘i’m good, really.’ 

- But you’re really not good 

- Not at all

- You’ve fallen for Reggie Mantle

- Arrogant footballer

- But also so much more

- He’s got the kindest, purest soul ever

- He’ll do anything for his friends 

- And he’ll do anything to make you laugh

- Little do you know

- As you’re having your small freakout 

- Reggie is doing the exact same 

- He’s just realized how in love with you he actually is

- All it took was a crude joke and a scrunch of your nose 

- Now what does he do?

- He’s always so confident 

- Thats what made you dislike him in the first place

- But right now, he isn’t sure if he’s able to say hello

- So he blurts out the next best thing

- ‘goodbye’

- ‘what?’ 

- ‘i mean i love you’ 

- ‘what?!?’

- ‘what?’ 

- Now he’s standing up and trying to figure out the best escape route 

- ‘reg? where are you going?’ 

- ‘away. i don’t love you. i like you. i mean not that i couldn’t love you. i could definitely love you...very easily. maybe i do love you. can i kiss you? wait what?’ 

- ‘yes. you can kiss me.’ 

- That surprises both of you 

- But he doesn’t waste anymore time and leans over the table to kiss you 

- Its awkward because of the position he’s in and definitely a little embarrassing

- But its perfect 

- After a few dates you’d make it official 

- And then the real cliches would start

- Quickly you’d become the couple of the school

- Everybody knows who you are

- Probably because he gave you his letterman jacket after your first date and you haven’t taken it off since

- ‘it just looks better on you babe’ 

- Speaking of ‘babe’

- The nicknames...

- So many

- ‘babe’

- ‘baby’

- ‘sweetheart’

- ‘my love’ (which is a personal favourite)

- ‘darling’ (another favourite)

- And your nicknames for him where just as cute

- ‘reg’ (obvious, but he likes it because its the one you called him before you even liked each other)

- ‘mantle’ (for when you wanted to tease him)

- ‘love’

- ‘babe’

- ‘sunshine’ (his secret favourite. he pretended to hate it but you noticed the soft smile on his face whenever you said it)

- You definitely won prom king and queen 

- ‘you’re by far the prettiest queen this school has ever seen’

- Your Pop’s dates would become more and more frequent 

- Now its Veronica and Archie’s turn to share looks when you kiss

- He’d walk you to class every chance he got 

- And he’d always carry your books for you

- If you had a class together, he would always sit beside you

- And days were assignments were given and you could pick your partners were his favourite.

- When you didn’t have classes together he’d leave cheesy notes in your notebooks 

- Or even just in your locker 

- He’d always kiss you goodbye 

- He’d also pull you into empty classrooms/corridors to make out

- Even if you were going to be late to something

- Mainly Bulldog/Vixen practice 

- Much to your coaches annoyance

- Sorry Cheryl 

- If you were free while he was practicing, you’d watch him from the bleachers 

- And if he was free while you had practice, he’d definitely sneak in to watch 

- Again, sorry Cheryl 

- And at games you would always cheer the loudest 

- Sometimes you’d come up with your own cheers that were just about him 

- ...sorry Cheryl

- You were a constant distraction to the other

- Everybody would act so annoyed 

- But they secretly all thought it was cute 

- Because everyone loves a cliche 

- And this one was by far your favourite 

[yellowmagicalgirl]

What a Beautiful Wedding (and Yes, but What a Shame)

Douxie asks Aja for advice. Krel asks Archie for almost the exact same advice: how to properly propose.

Written for the Camelot/Akiridion-V prompt for Krexie Week. Yes, I know it’s late. The title’s from a Panic! at the Disco song, and there’s some historical inaccuracies because I didn’t want to have to deal with historical homophobia. Also there's a single mention of violence.

AO3

FFN

Getting a private audience with the queen of Akiridion-V was difficult. It was less difficult given that Douxie was her brother's boyfriend of several years, but that didn't mean that Aja wasn't a busy woman. And it was even harder for Douxie to get a truly private audience with her, one without Krel. Sure, this was a conversation that intimately involved Krel, but he was not allowed to be here to listen to the conversation. Therefore, Douxie had had several months to prepare his question. He shouldn't have been so nervous, except some part of him worried that he might have to duel Aja for Krel's honor. Or if not Aja, then Zadra or Varvatos. And Douxie would probably only be allowed to use a serrator, because honor.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Aja asked as she closed the door.

Douxie wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "What are Akiridion marriage proposals like?"

"Did he?" Aja put all of her hands to her mouth.

"If Krel proposed in a traditional Akiridion manner, I wouldn't be asking you because he would mope about me not telling him whether or not I wanted to marry him, and I'd be asking Krel. No, I wanted to know so I could propose to him."

"I see," Aja said, and her voice was more grave than Douxie expected. "Do you truly love my brother?"

"Of course I do!" The only living person that Douxie loved as much as Krel was Archie.

Aja gave him a thin smile. "I believe you, and I know that Krel cares about you deeply. But you should know, that I can think of one reason why he would reject any proposal of a formal marriage."

Douxie frowned. "What?"

"According to the laws of the Akiridion Empire," Aja began, scowling. She had done her best to reform Akiridion-V to be unlike the greater empire that had abandoned her and her family to Morando's coup. However, even with the power of the entire planet and its allies, she couldn't win an outright war with the rest of the empire. Not unless she or Krel used the full power of Gaylen against the rest of the empire. "Any royal who marries a non-royal Akiridion must get permission from the Emporer of Akiridion Prime. Otherwise, they'll lose their status as a royal."

"They'll cut his arms off?"

"No, nothing that barbaric. Or at least, it hasn't happened for hundereds if not thousands of keltons, to the best of my knowedge. And we're such a backwater part of the empire that lesser nobles could marry outside the caste with little difficulty. But Krel's the King-in-Waiting, and -"

"- I'm nobody on the galactic scale, and therefore the Emporer wouldn't approve of us." In fact, outside of Arcadia Oaks and Earth's supernatural community, and niche alt emo punk goth rock circles, Douxie was a nobody on Earth as well. "Is that why you broke up with Steve?"

"No, it was because we couldn't make long-long-long distance work. Though, I wouldn't have been able to marry him anyways." Aja sighed. "Trust me, I want the two of you to be happy together. And I know Krel doesn't care much for his status as a royal - he'd rather be remembered for his accomplishments as a physicist, engineer, hero to multiple planets... But I suspect he might refuse if only to keep me from being the only member of House Tarron. And if he does, I will try to convince him that him marrying you wouldn't be a betrayal to me."

"I understand. And, it's not like we have to get married. I want to marry Krel, but in the end it's more of a legal thing than proof of how much we love each other."

"Okay. So Akiridion proposals don't involve any physical gifts. Instead, they're a dance. I mean, you could probably modify it so you end it in the Earth way, by genuflecting and offering a ring. I'm going to walk you through the steps of a commoner's dance, and then I'll try to teach you the movements that a royal would use. Maybe you could use your magic to mimic the parts you'd need an extra pair of arms for?"

Douxie was out and about. Running errands, or something. Krel didn't mind. It gave him the perfect opportunity to talk to his boyfriend's familiar without risking Douxie walking in on the conversation. Not when the subject of the conversation was supposed to be a surprise for Douxie.

Krel had prepared this question for several months. Or rather, he had prepared himself to ask. He had looked deep within himself, and at his relationship with his sister. She was doing remarkably well as queen, far better than Krel could have ever imagined before the coup. She didn't need him as an heir, not when she had recently started mentoring their cousin's children. One from House Ventis and one from House Akraohm, in hopes that by keeping this balance their relatives wouldn't go to war like they had been for hundereds of keltons before their parents had married.

He would ask his question to Archie, and then Krel would ask Aja if she was okay with this, and then he would ask Douxie to marry him.

Krel placed the plate of roasted salmon in front of Archie. "What were Camelot's marriage customs like?"

Archie took a bite of the salmon before looking up at Krel. "Why do you want to know?" Archie took another bite, swallowed, and then sat up straight. "Oh."

"Yeah. I know what modern Earth proposals are like, and as much as I hated learning about how to properly court another royal I know how Akiridion proposals work, but I wanted to do something that would be more personal and meaningful for Douxie."

"Then you wouldn't want to do a proposal from Camelot."

"You don't know what they look like, either?"

"No, I know. When you're close to invisible to the castle, you see plenty, including all the stages of love. But back in Camelot, Douxie never could have gotten married."

"Why not?"

"It's a law older than Arthur. Wizards weren't allowed to marry. Granted, prior to Arthur taking the throne, it was only enforced when the happy couple was rich enough that a dowry would be more than a nice set of wooden dishes and a single chicken. Or if they lived in an urban area. The law was meant to try and keep the magical population low. After all, there was a stigma against children born out of wedlock, so it was supposed to keep them from having magical children. Never mind that the law targeted cis, same-sex couples the same way it targeted ones that would be able to procreate. Or how abstinence only sex-ed doesn't work. Or how wizards can be born to non-magical parents and vice-versa.

"So, no. Douxie wouldn't have ever expected to marry under Camelot's laws, and so using Camelot's customs would not be more personal and meaningful. Besides, that tradition includes nailing your intention to be married to the door of a constable. Please don't go and commit vandalism to celebrate your engagement."

"Not planning on it."

Krel Tarron couldn't wait to become Krel Casperan.

[soyforramen]

Blame @sullypants for this one since weird dreams are a common theme lately:

“Hey, Jug.”

Shaken by some unknown force, Jughead groaned and nestled further into his arms.  

“C’mon, wake up,” Archie said, his voice coming from a universe away.  

Sleep was a dense fog that settled in behind Jughead’s eyelids and he couldn’t muster the energy to push it away.  He’d fallen asleep in school again, that much he could discern from the hard table beneath him.  But at least the desk was a lot more comfortable than the janitor’s closet had been.

“Dude, let’s go,” Reggie said.  

With a hard tug, Jughead was snapped awake.  With a wide yawn he stretched out, his back giving a satisfyingly loud crack.

“What’s up?”

“School’s over, Rip Van Jones,” Reggie said.  With a roll of his eyes, he ran a hand through his already slicked back hair.  “The girls are waiting for us at Pop’s.  Apparently we have to have a set list for Sunday and they wanted to go over it after school.  Or at least we were supposed to before this knucklehead got us detention from Grundy again.”

Jughead blinked, convinced he’d heard Reggie wrong.  Grundy was dead, murdered by the Black Hood.  Even if she had come back to life, what was she doing around high schoolers?

“How was I supposed to know she meant a rhyme scheme from Donna Sweet and not Saweetie,” Archie muttered.  “Besides, if we leave right now we still might make it before they ditch us.”

Wait, sweater vest.  Why was Archie wearing a sweater vest?  And was was Reggie acting so cordial?  

Certain that this was another weird dream, Jughead reached for his Serpent’s jacket and found that the back of his chair was empty.  Serpent’s jacket?  

“I still think that we should ditch Jingle Jangle,” Reggie said as he headed out the door.

“What?  It’s my best work,” Archie said as he followed him out.  

With another yawn, Jughead picked up his books and followed them out into the cool autumn air.  With a start, he realized that it was just a dream, a really weird dream to be exact.  There was no biker gang that gave out jackets to kids like candy.  He and Archie and Reggie had always been a strange sort of friends; and Grundy was never anything more than a septuagenarian determined to drive herself into an early grade by teaching high brow literature to idiot high schoolers.

On the way to Pop’s, Jughead ignored Archie and Reggie’s argument over some girl the next town over and worked to piece together the dream.  It had all been so real that it wasn’t a wonder he’d been confused.  Everything in Riverdale had been the same as it was now, except it was all off just enough to cast a dark shadow across their sleepy little town.  

Hiram Lodge, a well known philanthropist and entrepreneur who tolerated his daughter’s friends was not a corrupt Wall-Street con-man looking to rule the world.  The Coopers, an All American family, was not rife with dark secrets that would eventually tear them apart.  The Blossom’s, while certainly devious and conniving in their own ways, were not ripped from the pages of a gothic horror novel.

And the Jones…

Jughead shuddered at the thought.  Sure, they weren’t the perfect family.  But they loved each other, took care of each other, and were as normal as they could be.  That image of his family brought up a wave of guilt about how his subconscious had portrayed his parents.

(He couldn’t help but grin, however, at the idea that baby Jellybean could not only hold her own, but was a fan of Led Zeppelin.  It was a nice touch.  Maybe he’d roundup his mother’s old records tonight and he’d teach her to appreciate the finer things in life.)

But it wasn’t until they’d walked into Pop’s to find the girls seated at their regular booth that the realization that this Betty - sweet, caring, lovely Betty - wasn’t his that he felt a pang of longing for his dream world.  Despite how horrific that dream had been, Betty was the golden lining in that dark world, a comfort meant only for him.

The feeling passed quickly when Betty’s eyes locked on Archie.  Jughead couldn’t help but wonder, though, what if things had been different?

For the rest of the afternoon, the members of The Archie’s debated and argued over the set list, while Jughead did what he did best.  While Archie was arguing for the merits of Sugar, Sugar, Jughead polished off three baskets of fries and a milkshake.  When Veronica demanded to sing Bang-Shang-A-Lang solo, Jughead ate two and a half cheeseburgers and drank half a pot of coffee.  As Reggie was arguing for… well, whatever it was he wanted, Jughead nursed a chocolate milkshake and a basket of fries (extra chili cheese, heavy on the onions and cheese, add bacon).

Occasionally he inserted his own opinion - no he would not let Reggie ruin another drum set just so he could show off to Ginger Lopez, nor was it feasible for Veronica to burst out, and ruin, his kick drum at the start of the show.  But even as he played at normalcy, his mind kept coming back to that dream.  Detention with Grundy could never be long enough to contain an entirely parallel universe, and yet it was the most realistic dream he’d ever had.

“Earth to Juggie,” Betty said as she waved her hand in front of his face.  He blinked, his gaze centering on her, and she giggled.   “Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

He glanced around and found that despite his attempts to stay present, he and Betty were the only two left.

“Veronica roped Archie into installing shelves for her,” Betty explained with an over exaggerated pout.  She then pointed over to where Reggie was chatting a short, dark haired teen.  “And Midge came in without Moose, so you know Reggie’s not going to miss that opportunity.”

Midge.

The world around Jughead spun and he felt lightheaded when he stood.  He walked over to where the pair stood at the counter, and when Midge turned to him Jughead wrapped her in a tight hug, tears threatening to pour from his eyes.

“You alright there, needle nose?” Reggie asked, his eyes filled with concern.  

Apparently Jughead hadn’t been able to play as normal as he’d thought.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, loosening his hold.  He stared at Midge, still trying to comprehend why he felt so relieved that it was all just a dream. “I’m just… happy to see you is all.”

“I’m always happy to see you, Jughead,” Midge said.  She placed the back of her hand across his forehead, the corners of her lips pinched.  “But maybe you should let Betty take you home?”

Jughead nodded as the surreal threatened to overwhelm him.  When he turned, he found Betty behind him, her arms full of their schoolbooks.  She set a hand on his arm and gave an encouraging, if worried, smile.  It was easy enough to let her lead him out of the diner.  That way he could remind himself that the world where Midge had been slaughtered wasn’t real.

“Penny for your thoughts?  Or maybe I should offer a nickel?” Betty asked.  When he didn’t respond, she bumped her hip into his.

The contact, friendly, playing, concerned, burned his side.  It brought up just how touchy they were in his dream world, along with false memories of things he’d never paid any attention to before (especially not about her).  He shivered and quickened his step.  Betty, ever the Teflon personality, matched his stride and slipped her arm through his.  

“Just a strange dream,” he muttered, far too distracted by how much heat she gave out to come up with a good lie.

“Sounds like a pretty intense dream if you’re still thinking about it this much.”

And with that simple statement, the entire thing tumbled out of him.  Nothing was left out, though Jughead did edit some of the more intimate moments they’d spent together in his dream.  He was so wrapped up in making sure to include all the details - the corruption, the ever-burning ember of hope, the rocket - that he almost missed the fact that Betty had guided them through the town square three times as he divulged the dirty laundry about the underground boxing rings and Maple Club.

By the time they’d reached his house it was twilight and he was telling her about the prep school murders and fake FBI stings.  His mother (his real mother, thankfully, and not the drug running mom that had run out on him) brought them out dinner just as he got to his own faked death.  

And for the first time in his life, Jughead’s entire focus wasn’t on getting seconds (and thirds).

When he was finally done with his tale, Betty let out a long whistle.  She pushed around the remaining bits of pie on her plate, lost in thought.  Now that his head was empty of that bizarre dream, Jughead’s appetite came back with a vengeance. He leaned over and snatched the rest of her pie crust and popped it into his mouth.

“Well?” he prompted, curious to get her take on his dream.  

“Do you think the fish Ms. Beezley served today was off?”

He rolled his eyes and grinned at her ability to lighten the mood.   Jughead leaned back and set his elbows against the porch step behind him to look up at the sky.  Betty set her plate down and sat down next to him, primly smoothing out her skirt before she spoke.

“Do you really think we …” she paused.  “My mother?  And your dad?”

Jughead groaned and ran a hand down his face.  “I’d hate to think what Freud would say.”

“Well, he’d definitely agree it wasn’t a pipe,” she snickered.  “Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something?”

“Convince Archie that Jingle-Jangle is a terrible song to play to middle schoolers?”

She shrugged.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.”

As the world turned around them, they sat in companionable silence.  As curious as Jughead was to know what Betty really thought, it was these quiet moments with her that he felt truly at peace.  Perhaps that’s what the dream had signified.  With all the clamor and turmoil over senior year and applying for colleges, maybe his brain was trying to tell him to slow down and enjoy these little moments more.

Or maybe it was just a sign he shouldn’t shotgun a whole liter of soda before Grundy’s lecture on Dashiell Hammet.

“Walk me home?” Betty asked suddenly.

Without waiting for an answer, she hopped up and pulled Jughead to his feet, the same as they’d done a million times before.  Only this time Betty tugged a little too hard and Jughead stumbled into her.  He was about to apologize when he noticed the twinkle of mischief in her eyes.  To hide his smile, he bent over and tucked his shoulder into her stomach.  Betty shrieked as he lifted her up over her shoulder, precariously balancing the two of them as he picked up her books.

“Put me down Jones,” she said through her laughter, “or I’m telling Ethyl that you’d love to play D&D with her.”

“Dirty pool, Cooper,” he shot back as he casually sauntered down the block to her house.  He ignored the faint whisper of the peaches and cream lotion she used on her skin and the breathless lilt of her voice.  Because no matter how right it felt in the dream, they were only friends here. “And it’s G&G, remember?”

Once back on solid ground, Betty slipped her arm through his and they strolled along under the streetlights.  Just another night in the neighborhood without a care in the world.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad,” she said almost absentmindedly.  When she didn’t elaborate, Jughead’s heart gave a heavy, painful thump.  “I could always use more help with the B&G.”

He snorted and reached up to scratch his forehead to ignore the sudden disappointment.  “Toni does have some strong opinions about the gym’s new paint job.”

Betty stuck her tongue out at him, her face scrunched.  Jughead almost tripped trying not to kiss the tip of her nose.

His mood darkened when they reached her house.  Archie was on the front porch, napping, and the small seed of possibility withered into dust.  But instead of running towards Archie, Betty paused next to him.  Her teeth worked across her lip and she stared, unfocused at him.  Her hand on Jughead’s arm tightened and she shifted almost imperceptibly towards him.

With a small nod, Betty stood up on her toes and kissed Jughead on the cheek.  He flushed as the sun exploded in his chest.  

“Meet me at Pop’s tomorrow after school.  There’s a new French movie at the Bijou, and I’d hate it if Veronica saw it before me.”

He knew the smile on his face was just as goofy as the one’s he made fun of Archie for, but Jughead couldn’t help but wonder at this strange new turn.  For once, he was excited to spend time alone with a girl.  (He was always excited to spend time with Betty Cooper, but this time she wasn’t just Betty.)

His smile lasted all the way home and continued until he settled into bed.  Just as he was falling asleep, his phone rang with a text from Betty.

‘Some of your dream sounded nice enough to try out in real life, don’t you think?’

To say that Jughead had trouble falling asleep for the first time was an understatement.

[mashounen2003]

Sonic opinions - 2

In large portions of every fandom, it looks like it prevails the idea that you can only take one of two positions: praising the story in every respect, including both the ideas themselves and their execution by the writers, or admitting not to like the story and not to praise any element of it at all. I think my ideas regarding the Archie-Sonic comics and the Sonic franchise in general cannot be pigeonholed into either of these two extremes.

More below the "keep reading" cut.

I loved all the world-building in Archie-Sonic, the elements the comic introduced, their many characters and the potential to tell stories about them; I also really liked much of the art and personal styles of several artists Archie-Sonic has had throughout its history, with very few exceptions (and such exceptions include Ron Lim, of course). That's why, of all the Sonic continuities, I often use the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic comic as the primary source for world-building elements and story ideas.

What really makes me feel bad about that comic, what motivates most of my criticism, is the ideas’ execution by the main writers, as well as aspects that I think are more linked to each writer as a person, the unique way in which each of them has written their stories.

Firstly, Michael Gallagher: the writer for the first few dozen issues of the comic had a terrible sense of humour, and this hurt the comic hugely since those first issues were fundamentally based on that low-quality comedy style. The characterization of the entire cast also suffered greatly from this; in Sally's case, something quite ironic happened too: Gallagher portrayed her as bossy, annoying, temperamental, usually bickering with Sonic, and now that's also how Sally is seen by many fans of the videogames’ continuity (at best). Other than this, not much more could be said about him.

Karl Bollers wrote quite decent stories with some nice comedy, with “Return to Angel Island” being his best work, one of the best stories in the entire comic and perhaps even one of the best in the franchise; but Bollers’s work was "torpedoed" by Ken Penders and then-editor Justin Gabrie, which ruined the stories’ final versions sometimes or led to elements introduced by Bollers being "retconned" and overwritten by whatever Penders smoked and decided to do when taking over. The characterization of Fiona Fox is one of the main examples, with Bollers's Fiona being a quite under-utilized character but with a great potential that would later be wasted by both Penders and Ian Flynn. Another similar case was Sally breaking up with Sonic: Bollers tried to give context to such a drastic decision by Sally and show how she was the one who was suffering the most at that time and also that both she and Sonic were partially right, but Penders and Gabrie didn't let Bollers develop this subplot properly and all we had was a quite infamous scene that unfairly made Sally one of the most hated characters. It’s also known of several plans Bollers had for future stories, and one of them was Antoine being corrupted by the Source of All and turning into a villain; this had the potential to be a good story by subverting the concept of the Source of All and making it an actual threat, but on the other hand, it’d have meant resorting once again to the resource of "this character isn’t doing anything, let's make them evil", something quite disappointing, which later would have disastrous results when Flynn did the same with Fiona a few years later. However, these plans of Bollers were just ideas, and the quality of a story created from them still depends a lot on execution. In the end, I can't say anything about how good or bad Bollers was as a writer, simply because I have no way of knowing what his stories would have been like if he had been given more freedom and had stayed as the writer longer.

There were two writers who influenced Archie-Sonic comics far more than any other writer in its history: Penders and Flynn. The first of them was a retarded pervert with an overly inflated and fragile ego. He became obsessed with the primitive, toxic ideal of "family" North-Americans have. He wrote nonsensical, contradictory stories, having already decided the end down to the last detail long before even thinking about how the story would come to that end (I also made this specific mistake a few times when I was just starting to write fanfiction, I must admit). He increased Fiona's age in order to be able to pair her with the Don Juan that Sonic had become, which also ruined Fiona's characterization forever. The issues 150s -right before being replaced by Flynn- were the worst part of Penders’s run, as Bollers was no longer there to put a stop to his madness in any way, and it was at this time when there was the most egregious case of Penders pouring into the comic his worst perversions and retarded ideas: he hinted at a sex scene in one of the most infamous cases in the history of the entire Sonic franchise, although it wasn’t infamous for the implied sex per se but rather because what happened was technically a rape by deception; to add insult to injury, the writer implicitly blamed the victim some years later when asked about it on Twitter.

I could go on talking about “Ken Perverts”, but I think that's not necessary and would be a waste of time since, as everyone here already knows, he's been the laughingstock of the entire Sonic franchise for years; @ponett even has a whole secondary blog, @thankskenpenders, mainly dedicated to this. On the other hand, there’s still another writer who has also contributed a lot and also made huge mistakes but is not criticized in the least by almost anyone, simply because he was better than Penders.

Ian Flynn usually reduced the characters to slightly oversimplified portrayals, similar to the personalities of the characters in the most recent videogames. Under his pen, Sonic was more sympathetic but his words sometimes sounded too empty and shallow, his apologies for past mistakes didn’t lead to genuine changes on his part, and sometimes he even seemed plain insensitive to all the tragedies happening around him, especially at the Mecha Sally Arc (I nickname Ian Flynn’s Sonic "Plastic Smile" for this). Admittedly, this had already happened several times with previous writers (Penders portraying Sonic as a Don Juan, as I already mentioned), and this is why I think the original Sonic from Sonic SatAM was always better for feeling more "genuine", less "empty", and more heroic and likeable as a result. Perhaps the only ones to escape the oversimplified portrayal have been Shadow and E-123 Omega, whose characterizations in Archie-Sonic were the best in the whole franchise.

Besides, Flynn had strong favouritism for Amy Rose, which only made things worse because this Amy was much more similar to the one in the videogames from Sonic Heroes onwards. Anyway, this also happened with previous writers, like when Amy wished to be younger at the cost of a chance to save Sally's mother and no one ever berated her for it.

Let’s look at the villains. Unlike the typical Eggman from the videogames, with his follies, eccentricities and other absurd aspects, the Robotnik “inherited” by the comic from Sonic SatAM was explicitly a genocidal bastard and crueller while at the same time being sane enough to realize everything he was doing (@robotnik-mun already spoke in detail about this once); however, Flynn tried to combine the two characters into the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic Eggman, and the result created some severe problems with the stories’ tone. Something derived from this was how Sonic let Eggman live and even felt sorry for his fall into madness, in addition to treating him as if they were the Sonic and Eggman from the videogames, Sonic X or Sonic Boom; it’s worth remembering this Eggman technically is a sort of reincarnation of the SatAM Robotnik (his exact nature is quite complicated and includes parallel universes, but yes, he’s supposed to be exactly the same as the SatAM Robotnik, with memories and everything) and this Sonic is supposed to have fought a bloody decade-long guerilla war against him just like his SatAM counterpart.

Scourge was turned into a massive Mary-Sue who achieved easy victories, as subtle as a huge neon sign saying "the bad guys win"; he was also an abusive manipulator towards Fiona Fox, and Flynn was unable to show that properly for fear of making his pet look no longer cool, which makes you wonder how alike Flynn and Penders might actually be in some ways. To clearly understand the horrible damage this has caused: it not only created a generation of young Sonic fans -mostly boys from the USA- who romanticize abuse either consciously or unconsciously, but also there are even women -including scholars, committed feminists and transgender people who are also activists for social justice- who either sympathize with Scourge or think Fiona made a right, wise, rational or informed decision by joining him in the story (I’ll not give names of those women, I’m not really eager to get into heated fallacious discussions about “the true meaning of Feminism”); to top it off, among the writers who started working with Ian Flynn either on IDW-Sonic or the last years of Archie-Sonic, there’s at least one person who got the job of writing official Sonic comics after gaining quite a bit of fame with a fan-comic where they used the pairing of Scourge & Fiona to inspire its readers to feel sorry... for Scourge. And speaking of Fiona specifically: the subplot of her career as a villain was ill-conceived, was built by using as a cornerstone the A-story of Issue #150 (that quite infamous and widely known story written by Penders where Scourge may or may not have raped Bunnie by deception), and was also seemingly "abandoned" as Fiona ended up merely being Scourge's new abuse victim girlfriend and her status as a traitor didn’t even have a significant emotional effect on the Freedom Fighters.

Flynn also followed something like a pattern of taking tropes from famous works and then using them when writing the comic but not actually understanding why those tropes had worked in the first place. Perhaps the prime example of this was Scourge giving Sonic the Joker's "One Bad Day" speech: it almost felt a bit like giving the same speech to the Batman of Batman vs. Superman, as Sonic had already had a whole "bad decade" and was still a hero despite it; also, Sonic's answer to that speech (telling Scourge it only takes a tiny bit of selflessness and decency for him to be a good person) wasn’t that great, not at all compared to the mildly masterful answer Batman had originally given to the Joker in The Killing Joke, and it even made Sonic look more like a bad judge of character.

Lastly, the entire Mecha Sally Arc was poorly planned, had some contradictions with itself and with previous stories, was stretched through dozens of comic issues no matter if that felt forced, and the main events and plot twists throughout the story arc were heavily based on shock-value without giving any substance to this or making it a bit more sense when putting it under scrutiny; meanwhile, Flynn always seemed to have quite a hard time when writing long story arcs, so these long stories looked like he was trying and outright failing to imitate Toriyama (someone quite known for putting together stories ad-lib according to what seemed most convenient at the time).

Despite this, it looks like those Sonic fans who are still interested in material outside of the videogames will keep buying and reading whatever Ian Flynn or one of his colleagues writes, simply because they’re better than Penders... even though it's been 15 years since Penders wrote something official about Sonic. Seriously, we should have gotten over it by now, instead of continuing to compare all material in the franchise with Penders's work, which sets the bar too low for any official content creator. Now that I think about it, Penders's work is to the North-American Sonic canon what Sonic 2006 is to the videogames: people can criticize the latest games all they want, and rightfully so, but if someone even casually mentions Sonic 2006, any Sonic game from 2010 onwards instantly becomes a masterpiece just for being marginally better than Sonic 2006; the same happens between Penders's work on pre-reboot Archie-Sonic and any other North-American Sonic comic written by Flynn after Penders left.

Right now it looks like it's also forbidden to criticize Flynn as a writer at all just because he's much nicer in his personal life and engages with fans more directly through his podcasts, or because Flynn is truly progressive while Penders claimed to be progressive and a feminist and was affiliated with the USA Democrats but his work showed how misogynistic, perverted, retarded, reactionary and downright sick he was. Also, now saying something about Flynn other than total blind admiration for him and his work, even asking for the Freedom Fighters to return in the IDW comics, has become synonymous with agreeing with those assholes who cry "Rally4Sally" or "Udon4Sonic" on Twitter: "nostalgic" fans of SatAM and Penders's work on Archie, in their 40s or 50s, deeply conservative and absurdly paranoid, who claim that those new inclusive cartoons such as Steven Universe or She-Ra "are ruining their childhood", are mad at Flynn just because he hinted Sally and Nicole may be a lesbian couple (and in a rather platonic way, not even romantic in the traditional sense), and try to justify their own warped ideas and fantasies about SatAM by ignoring any “liberal” political messages SatAM may have had at the subtext level.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Friday Night Fight | Reggie Mantle

Hey Lovelies, here’s the first fic I’m moving from my Wattpad! I went through an entire Reggie Mantle phase and this is one of my favourite imagines! I hope you all enjoy!

Description: Y/n and Reggie are best friends and they get into a fight after she falls asleep and forgets they have plans.

Pairing: Reggie Mantle x Not-Quite-Platonic!Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst (not really)

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: angst, FLUFF, just overall an easy read

(not my gif! Also hello I want to do this)

You and Reggie have been best friends since you were born, always next to one another whether that be when causing trouble in Riverdale or taking the accompanying punishment. Partners in crime, that's what the two of you are. It really is the strongest kind of bond. They say there's no honour among thieves but you think it's the exact opposite. There is way more honour among trouble makers than rule followers.

Well, there’s more honour when both trouble makers remember to tell each other when they cancel plans, that is.

So you've been a little busy these days, big deal, right? Pop's has you working overtime for the upcoming town jubilee and your parents are on your heels to keep you grades maintained. You're an excellent student for someone who goes mailbox smashing on occasion! That mixed with the constant hounding from your other friends to loosen up and to hang out with them more almost always leaves you swamped.

All in all, you were tired and honestly forgot to tell Reggie that you wouldn't be able to join him at the drive-in tonight. It’s not that you didn’t want to go, you just fell asleep as soon as your head had hit your pillow, your phone discarded on your dresser. Now look where that landed you.

                                         *     *     *     *     *

"Dude, where are you? I've been waiting for you for like an hour and a half!" 

This is the first thing you hear when you stumble to your phone and pick it up. You aren't even fully awake and someone's already yelling at you.

"What?" Is your only audible response, besides a few swear words that tumble from your tired lips.

You hear an angry sigh from the other end of the phone, "Y/n, we were supposed to go to the drive-in tonight, remember? It's me, Reggie. You know, your best friend? We've been planning this for months, it was the James Bond marathon! I can't believe you forgot. You always do this!"

Now it's your turn to get angry. Where the hell did all of that come from, you always bailing on him? As if! He's the one who's never around because of football! You never complain when he hangs with the guys after promising to go to Pop's or Sweetwater River with you. Where does he come off thinking he's entitled to your time but you aren't entitled to his?

"What the hell, Mantle? As if you never fucking leave me hanging! At least I have a good reason unlike you. 'Sorry, Archie wants to play video games' yeah whatever! So yeah, best friend, I forgot. At least I didn't fucking cancel on you for nothing!" 

You'll regret these words eventually but, thankfully, that time is not now. However, the angry tears pooling in your eyes tell you other wise. You can't believe he would accuse you of ditching him, you've never ditched Reggie! You've been attached at the hip since birth and then later, when he grew taller than you, attached at the hip and stomach.

"So, Reggie, I should go seeing as you obviously don't want to see me because I bail on all our plans." You spit the words into the phone, dragging a hand through your hair and tugging hard.

"Wait, y/n, I didn't mean-"

"Bye."

With that you collapse back onto your bed and quite plainly just cry. Your best friend, the boy you've spent your entire life with and then some, has officially crossed a line. He doesn't do that often. In fact, before this moment, he hasn't done it at all. The two of you rarely fight and when you do it's about nothing. You could almost scream right now!

Tears stream down your face, reddening your nose and staining your cheeks. You miss him, that's the problem with having a best friend whom sneaks into your room every night. You probably won't be able to fall asleep without Reggie's body next to yours. You don't feel weak for missing him minutes after a bad phone call, you crossed that bridge when you got the flu the entire summer and he didn't leave your side once.

You hear a rumble outside your window and roll over, trying to get a better look from your bed. Headlights shine through the glass, bathing your bedroom in an eerie glow. You hear a vehicle door slam and the lights die, leaving you in darkness to watch a sturdy, shadowy figure make its way towards you. You don't need to look at said figure for more than two seconds before you make out Reggie storming towards your window.

Now, you could say that this is all unexpected. That you had absolutely no idea that Reggie would come over in a heated fury. But that would be lying. Reggie and you have never been the type of people to sit on raw emotion and not do anything about it. If you have a problem, you deal with it. You knew as soon as you had hung up that it would only be a matter of time before you saw him. You're just surprised he only took half an hour.

You hear a tap on the glass, "Y/n, let me in."

He wears a leather jacket, the one you got him for his birthday last year. From a distance it looks black but, when you look closer, it's actually a midnight blue. It's fitting now, to wear such a manipulative piece of clothing in the dead of night.

"Why should I, asshole?"

You play with the worn bracelet on your arm; the friendship bracelet he made you five years ago. It's sun faded, your favourite colours having been dulled from years of running all over Riverdale with him. You would bet all the money in your wallet that Reggie has his on right now too. On his left hand, yours on the right, so that when you hold hands the bracelets touch.

"Because we have to talk, sleeping beauty," he puts his left hand against the glass, the equally faded blue and yellow strings peeking out from his cuff. 

You kind of wish you had bet on it now, you would have twenty extra dollars right now.

You grumble at his logic and slide the window open for him to step in through, turning on your bedside lamp to lighten the room up. When you turn back to him you stare at his chest instead of his chocolate eyes. You're not ready for that yet.

"Well talk then, Reg."

"I'm sorry, okay," he reaches a calloused hand out to tilt your head, "I'm sorry for being jerky. I know you don't bail on me dude, I was just jealous. I thought you bailed on me for Archie."

Archie? As in Archie Andrews? You can't stand the red head, especially since he's become the renowned guitar-hero of Riverdale! As if he wasn't bad enough before as the next Jason Blossom, now he carries a song book wherever he goes and sometimes even asks you to listen to one of them. No, Archibald Andrews, you don't want to listen to your newest sappy song. Besides, he isn't exactly a commendable comrade after the whole Betty and Veronica incident.

You sigh quietly, "Reggie, I very strongly dislike Archie. You know that. What's really wrong?"

You finally peer up into his eyes, staring straight into bloodshot pools of regret. Fuck.

"Oh, Reg, what's the matter? If this is because of me yelling at you, you know I can never stay mad at you," you throw your arms around his shoulders which, for the record, isn't easy and he scoops you into him. 

You've always hugged like this, it's comfortable and personal. You wrap your legs around his waist, leaning your head on his shoulder and playing with his hair. Warmth spreads through with ease and you close your eyes.

He started picking you up like this when he was eleven. Other kids were teasing him, calling him weak or something. You can’t quite remember. You knew it was a lie, though, so you told him to pick you up. It was odd timing, especially in the middle of science class, but he did it nonetheless. The two of you played it off like you needed reach something on a tall shelf but Reggie didn't even question you when you asked so it worked out pretty well. As a bonus the other kids in the class were jealous that Reggie Mantle was picking you up.

"Yeah, well, same, but that's not it. I guess I'm just worried that you're gonna find a new me and then I'll just be here and you'll be with the new me. You do realise that I would probably die without you, right?"

You giggle, the events from earlier slowly fading away because of the truth to his statement. Without you he would have gotten in too many accidents to count. That includes that one time in seventh grade when you talked him out of going down the twisty slide on a lunch tray. You had probably spared him a broken leg.

"Yeah but you've saved me from some pretty stupid things as well so don't mention it," namely the tree house incident, the Sweetwater River incident, and that day at Pop's where you almost choked from stuffing too many French fries in your mouth. 

Thank god Reggie's mother made him take CPR courses.

"Still, I'm sorry Y/n."

You squeeze your arms tighter around his football sculpted shoulders, "I forgive you, Reginald."

And with that, the two of you are back to normal. He scoffs and sets you back on your feet, pushing you jokingly and falling onto your bed. You’re heart stutters for just a second as you watch him examine a stuffed bear on your bed. You shake your head quickly. 

"Say, Reg," an idea pops into you head as fast as lightning, "I bet all the money in my wallet Jughead will replay the Bond movies for us!"

[flybi91]

I’ve mostly recovered from  having to experience Walter for extended periods of time.

 I’m just doing a little side bit before continuing Maude because it’s 5:30AM (I was listening to scary stories and I can’t sleep and I’m too afraid to leave my room to pee) and I know if I start on the regular series I’m gonna end up watching until like 8am. But I wanted to watch SOMETHING so decided instead to watch the episode of All in the family where Carol gets married.

Carol is very understandably pissed off that Archie is coming to the wedding. She’s marrying David, a Jewish man and Archie being Archie, she knows he’s gonna start shit.

Maude is doing that stereotyping thing where it’s technically antisemitic but it’s not a bad stereotype. Maud is supposed to be that liberal that’s like progressive in a way that almost feels worse than a bigot, kinda like most liberal twitter users. Her and Archie are basically the same but on different ends. 

Maude tells him right off the bat what’s going on and he repeats word for word what Carol predicted.

They REALLY should of had more crossover because Bea Arthur and Carroll O'Connor are absolutely fantastic together. I haven’t seen the first episode with Maude since I was a little kid, I really need to re-watch it.

Like all 4 of these actors are phenomenal together but Carroll and Bea are really on a different level that you rarely see.

Maude and Carol have an argument about who had what wedding showers and which husbands they were with, iconic.

The police got called on the bachelor party and Carol finds out that there were girls there. She’s upset that David had a bachelor party with women there without even talking to her about it and he does this borderline emotional abuse thing of “What happened to the free spirit, liberal minded woman i love🥺“ like shut the fuck up.

Dude bought a house without telling her, is expecting her to quit her job because he’s already expecting her to have more kids. NONE of this was previously discussed, he’s been planing her life out for her without telling her. I’m saying this as a Jewish woman I want to crush him like a bug, I’ve meet this EXACT type of dude and I’d throw him in front of the trolley problem with 0 remorse.

So Carol says something antisemitic when he mentions getting a good deal on the house and when she realizes she’s instantly, genuinely upset with herself. BUT David talks about how he was basically waiting the entire time for someone in her family to say something antisemitic because his mom said it would happen eventually. MY MAN you dated this woman for like 2-3 years and the ENTIRE TIME you were thinking this?!?! like you were just chillin in bed with her thinking one day she’s gonna say something fucked up???.

And we find out Archie called the cops on the party. He went back to the motel earlyto be miserable so he didn’t even know he was next to the bachelor party.

Like it really was the “I'm about to end this man's whole career“ meme except it wasn’t even intentional.

When ever I watch or read interviews most of the cast talks about how they thought Marcia Rodd made a better Carol than Adrienne Barbeau and I always thought it was kinda shady but I have to agree. This version of Carol REALLY feels like she genuinely believes what she’s saying and when she argues with her mom you can tell she’s legit pissed. I like Adrienne but this Carol really felt like Maude’s daughter and I have to wonder why they didn’t just hire Marcia if everyone that worked on that episode loved her so much. 

All in all, everyone in this episode was an asshole in some form or another except for Edith who’s an angel.

also i am posting this at 7am, it’s getting lighter out which means i can go piss and then sleep

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Homeward: Wicki x Fem!Reader

Requested by @i-do-not-know-what-my-life-is

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

*Reader is Aldo's daughter

******

The OSS was sending a new member to help the basterds. After losing Andy Kagan, Simon Sakowitz, and Michael Zimmerman...they needed some help. Even if they didn't want to admit it, and even if it was practically a slap in Aldo's face...they did need it. "General says it's a goddamn marine." Hirschberg rolled his eyes, "Who the fuck said we needed a marine?!" Donny muttered, "Ain't they all supposed to be in the Pacific anyway?" Aldo shook his head, "This one's been in an elite team apparently, but the OSS is moving the kid over here." "What's thekid’s name anyway?" Aldo shook his head, "All the general said was we'd know the kid when we saw....aw shit..." He stopped in his tracks, and started running through the trees, to reach the edge of the forest. "Y/N?!" Hugo turned around, and narrowed his eyes in confusion, "Y/n..." He'd heard that name before. They all had, once or twice. "Y/n...ain't that..." Hirschberg trailed off, shaking his head. Donny nodded, "Aldo's kid..." Wicki shook his head, "What? It can't be..." Then, you saw your dad barreling toward you, and you shook your head, and called out in the exact intonation as him, "Aw shit!" Omar raised his hands in exasperation, "Well...it has to be." Aldo was very conflicted and confused. He loved you more than he could ever say, but..."What the hell are you doin' here?! I TOLD YOU TO STAY HOME. YOU LEFT YOUR MOTHER AND JUNIOR ALONE?! WH-" You chuckled and remarked, "Nice to see ya too, pops." As confused and now...scared...as he was, he couldn't help but smile a little when you said that. He sighed, "I...I went to war so you'd be safe, Y/n. I don't understand...I wanted you to stay home..." "Well I didn't." He smiled again, and nodded, "Your ma does say you're too much like me." He shook his head, "How did she take it, by the way?" He smirked, already knowing the answer. "Well she ain't very happy with either of us, pop." "And..." You chuckled, "Junior? That boy can't wait for you to get home. He's gettin’ taller. I figure he be damn near a foot taller than me by the time we get home." "A foot taller than you? He's only twelve!" "Fifteen in a week now, pops." You laughed, and Aldo did too, though his heart sank. As he looked at you, he wondered where the years had gone. Aldo distracted himself by introducing you to your new team, "You heard of Hugo?" You smirked, "Everyone's heard of Hugo Stiglitz. Even in the Pacific. He's like a goddamn ghost story." Hugo smiled slightly for a moment, and Aldo nodded and introduced you to the last basterd, "And this here's Wilhelm Wicki." Wicki reached his hand out to yours. You smiled, and for some reason, you felt the need to hold on to his hand for  a moment longer than needed. When you saw his smile, and the light in his eyes, you knew he didn't mind so much. Not all the basterds were as welcoming. First of all, Aldo was your dad, and like all dads, he was probably going to be overprotective. Then, the basterds had doubts about girls like you being on the front lines. And finally...you were a goddamn marine. But, they masked all these concerns, and voiced them in the oldest basterd tradition: mid combat. "Y/N'S JUST A KID!" Donny called out over the machine guns firing at them as he ran past Aldo, trying to convince him. "Y/n just took down four gunners with one bullet." Wicki grinned smugly, crossing his arms, as silence from the enemy rang in their ears. Aldo turned quickly, and spotted you, as you jumped down from a tree branch, and tucked your rifle away. He looked back at Donny, and every other basterd who had some grievances about their newest teammate. "Yeah, but she's my kid," He chuckled as he wiped blood away from his knife, "And the apple don't fall far from the goddamn tree." "Yeah but..." "Hey Wicki!" You marched over to him, and everyone looked. "Shit, you hurt your hand?" You took his hand, and poured your water over the deep gash. His hand flexed as the cut stung. Aldo looked at the gawking basterds, and rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright. Showtime's over. Get me some goddamn scalps." Chuckling and remarking, they all slipped away. Aldo did too, but...he kept an eye out. Wicki was the only one that never had anything snide to say about you...and that made Aldo a little suspicious.  He watched from (what he called) a distance, as you poured sulfanilamide on his hand to stop the bleeding, and momentarily rushed off to grab something to bandage it up with. Aldo took that as his cue. He didn't waste any time. He knew a lovestruck idiot when he saw one. He was old enough to know. "If you ever so much as touch Y/n, I will kill you, ya hear me, boy?" Wicki gulped, "Come on, Aldo. It's me... You know me, I'd never." "I'm old, Wicki, but I ain't stupid." Aldo sighed, and his voice eased up a little, "She's all I got out here. And if anything ever happened to her," Aldo trailed off, as his voice became soft, like only a father's could. Wicki smiled a little, getting a lock at Aldo's rare soft spot. Rare, and fleeting. Aldo's hand grazed over his knife, and he muttered, "I'd kill whoever was goddamn responsible for hurtin' my kid. Purple heart, or a heartbreak, same in my eyes when it's down to her. So don't go puttin' us all in positions we don't wanna be put in, understand?" Wicki stammered a little, and nodded, "Yes sir." Aldo nodded once with stern eyes. Not like a lieutenant, but like an over protective father who said he'd kill, and meant it. You rolled your eyes when you came back, "Don't listen to him," You muttered something only Aldo could have taught you, as you wrapped Wicki's hand up as best as you could. Wicki's eyes widened, with a slight relieved smile, as he was no longer alone and open for Aldo to attack. "You heard all that?!" "Oh come on now, if there's one thing the old man can't do is whisper." Wicki laughed, though he was unsure, "But, he-" You kissed Wicki right then and there, and smiled softly, "I can keep a secret if you can." You both looked at each other with identical, sly grins, and loving eyes. So, you did keep that secret. For a long time. One day, the basterds had traveled across nazi occupied France for their newest mission: Operation Kino. The next day, they'd be meeting up with a British soldier named Archie Hicox. They were staying in a relatively decent hostel run by the resistance, everyone got their own room. Compliments of the OSS (and the fact that you were all in a suicide mission). Omar and Hirschberg went around to each of the basterds' rooms, asking around for extra cigarettes. But they didn't know how to knock, apparently.

They found the cigarettes alright...but you and Wicki were smoking them, in bed.  "OH SHIT!" Both Hirschberg and Omar broke out in gasps and cackles, taunts, and repeatedly remarked, "ALDO'S GONNA KILL YOU!"

In all the commotion, the basterds started to step into the hall one by one. Aldo went further to invistigate. You could practically see the foam forming at the corners of his mouth. "YOU'RE A DEAD MAN, WICKI, YA HEAR? DEAD! I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL Y-" "Dad." You crossed your arms. He went on, of course. "DAD." You matched him in volume, because of course, the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree. He looked at you, his eyes softened a little. You only called him 'dad' when you were mad. You always called him pops, or old man sometimes. But dad? Come on... Then... he glared at Wicki, "Get out." Wicki didn't waste a second, and hurried out. You and Aldo were quiet for a moment, then you muttered, "I'm not your little girl anymore, ok?" "What the hell are you talkin' 'bout?" He got a little defensive. In his eyes, you'd always be a kid. The kid that used to climb trees, fall down and scrape your knees, then climb back up in a second. You'd always be the kid that sat across from him from a low fire, and listened to ghost stories instead of bedtime stories. In his eyes, you'd always be the kid that only let him braid and brush your hair, because her mom was too hasty with the brush. Where had that kid gone? "I ain't no kid, dad. When you left, I took care of Junior. I took care of ma. When I shipped out, I was a fucken automatic rifleman in my fire team. You can't just be a  kid and get out like that. Then, I was a fucking squad leader. There were twelve of us, goddamn it. Out in the pacific, in the fucking storms, in the middle of everything, dad. We got our job done. Some of 'em went home. Some of 'em are still fightin'. Some of 'em ain't ever goin' anywhere again. But we all grew up. We had to. I did. I proved it out there. I proved it here. Why don't you see that?" "I'm pulling you out of operation kino." "You're what?!"

"If you so goddamn grown up, you'd realize you....you an' Wicki, an' all this shit- It's compromising the team! Grow up a little more, and you'll see I ain't just protectin' you. I'm protectin' everyone from this." "Really? Protecting me? How's that gone?" You shook your head, "Right. You ain't lost a damn soul since I got here. Just a coincidence right? Just lucky since I'm the best goddamn marksman you got, ain't it? You need me in that tavern tomorrow. It's not about me and Wil. You've been lookin' for excuses to pull me out of Kino since we got the damn thing. But ya know what, dad? You bein' scared is what's puttin' the team in danger. Not me and Wil. It's you." You pushed past him, and every basterd that lingered around in the hallway. None of them bothered to go after you. **** At dawn, you were sitting at the window of the inn, ready to go. Aldo closed his room door behind him quietly, and stood in the hall for a moment. Your hair was pulled back by a dark olive scrap of cloth. You weren't in pigtails anymore. You were taller than the kid that used to run around the Smoky Mountains with him. You looked out into the pink and red sky with the same eyes that watched the same sun set over the horizon in the pacific. Those were a troop's eyes, if Aldo ever saw them. He never thought about it before, maybe because it hurt him too much.... But he couldn't help it now. He thought about you, alone in firefights somewhere across the seas. He thought about all the things you'd seen. All the things you'd done... You were an unspoken hero, not his little kid.  You had to be, if the OSS took enough notice to send you halfway around the world to the basterds. You never told them a single story about your days before the basterds, but he was sure they'd be in a book some day. You were always ready. Frankly, you were the only basterd that was ever ready for anything. Still, he cleared his throat, and asked, "Ya ready, y/n?" That was his way of apologizing He wasn't very good at it. You had all the years of your short life to learn that. So you smiled a little, though you didn't look away from the red glaze in the sky, and sighed, "Yeah, pop." So it was understood. You were in the tavern. You went down with Hugo, Hicox, and Wicki to meet the contact. You were in that basement, fighting. And if it wasn't for you, none of them would have made it out alive.

The second Hugo pulled the trigger, and Dieter Hellstrom said goodbye to his nazi balls, you did what you had done on your first day as a basterd. You took down four nazis with one bullet. And did it again, with your second gun. Operation Kino would not run smoothly, but it did work out. And the basterds made it, because of you. So you all got the medal of honor when it was all said and done. And...while Wicki was walking to his spot, Aldo tripped him up. You rolled your eyes and glared at Aldo...who smiled as if he'd done nothing. You didn't realize he was smiling because he thought he was sly. He was smiling because he was proud of the boys, and most of all, of you. The basterds were all in their army uniforms, each decorated with different ribbons and medals from their time before and during their assignment to the team. You were in your marine uniform, equally as decorated. And with four purple hearts that Aldo had a million (belated) questions about. Question number one being, "How the hell did you get those?!" But, he shook his head, wondering how many stories his kid had. Aldo looked back at you, and saw that you were focused on the last man in the line.

Wilhelm Wicki. He was looking right back at you, with that same lovestruck idiot look. Aldo sighed in resignation, with a slight smile he'd never admit to. That was the story you wanted. Not a ghost story around a fire, or a war story wrapped up in ribbons and medals. Those were just a few chapters. Aldo looked out into the crowd, as Roosevelt went on and on with kind words about honor and war. Aldo wasn't listening much. He was looking out into the crowd, and spotted his wife and son, the rest of his story. The first page of his epilogue, set in the Smoky Mountains. Your story was different. It was only just beginning. The pen was still in your hand, and it had been, from the moment that Wicki took your hand. And if Wicki was going to be part of your story, well...then Aldo might just have to accept that. There was no more missions, no more war...nothing else he could use as an excuse. But he'd be damned if Wicki was coming over for dinner.... But if he was, you bet Aldo would be tripping Wicki up every chance he had (since killing him was no longer an option.) You and Wicki looked at each other after he got his medal, and smiled. The war might've ended, but what you had together didn't. When it was over, and you stepped down from the stage, he took your hand, and you spotted your mother and brother in the crowd. You could feel the scar on Wicki's palm, and you squeezed his hand.  He smiled softly with an undeniable blush, as you walked through the crowd, on your way home.

[aion-rsa]

Kevin Can F**K Himself Shows Why The Laugh Track Needs to Die

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The title card for the new AMC series Kevin Can F**K Himself isn’t accompanied by a jaunty tune or a wild sound effect. When the title appears on the screen, it’s soundtracked by a smattering of aggressive laughter. Creeping up below the laughter is a distressing screeching noise, meant to indicate the rapidly fraying sanity of our heroine. 

So it’s quite fitting that Kevin Can F**K Himself makes a compelling case for why laugh tracks (or canned laughter) need to die a quick death. The series centers on Allison McRoberts (Annie Murphy), a woman trapped in a marriage to the titular Kevin. Kevin is an infuriating man-child. He throws keg parties on his wedding anniversary, spends obscene amounts of money on sports memorabilia, and treats Allison like an accessory. He is emotionally abusive, often making Allison feel worthless by telling her things like she’s a bad driver or that she never finishes things so that he can keep her all to himself. 

Approximately a third of the series takes place in lala sitcom land in which the lighting is abundant, the set is clearly facing an audience, and Kevin is always there, chewing up the scenery like Pac Man chowing down on glowing dots. However, whenever Kevin exits, Allison finds herself in a more contemplative and complex (aka: single-camera) existence. The trouble is she doesn’t have much of an identity anymore because her entire life has hinged on being Kevin’s long-suffering wife. The juxtaposition of the sitcom world against a more realistic setting serves to illustrate just how jarring and unnecessary canned laughter is to a TV show. When we watch dramas, we don’t hear people bawling over the sad parts or gasping during the shocking moments. Nope. So why do laugh tracks persist?

As an early millennial, I grew up in a world in which laugh tracks were the norm. From “Must See TV” on NBC in the ‘90s to the vintage sitcoms on Nick at Nite, comedy was always served up with a heaping side of giggles and guffaws. Historically, the sitcom cadence did rely on a call-and response reaction as they actually were often filmed in front of a live studio audience, but it was rare that the responses that made it to the final episode were genuine and uncut. 

To be clear, when I’m referring to canned laughter here, I’m not just referring to the prerecorded kind. Sure, that might be the official definition, but even the laughter we hear from live studio audiences is goosed in some way prior to airtime. The practice of “sweetening” the laugh track, or adding in favorable reactions to amplify certain jokes has been in practice for decades, and it’s still in use today. While the creators of a show might be able to proudly say that the reactions came from an actual audience, the reactions are almost always tweaked in post-production in order to punch up the jokes that the creators or network want to land. Therefore, the laugh track on all of your favorite sitcoms is a lie. 

An argument could potentially be made that the practice of adding in a laugh track might make people feel a sense of camaraderie or community with others watching. And this is somewhat true. In a 2011 article on laugh tracks, NBC News noted a 1974 psychological study in which it was found that people laughed more frequently if they heard canned laughter following a joke. These types of social cues can make individuals feel comfortable, but they can also promote conformity. Looking back on the history of sitcoms, it sure seems as if laugh tracks have been complicit in keeping misogynistic and racist messaging at the forefront of comedy.

Kevin Can F**K Himself plays with this idea in every frame of its sitcom world. Nothing is actually very funny within the brightly lit walls of the McRoberts’s house. As previously established, Kevin is simply awful. He’s a huge loser. Yours truly wanted to throttle him, Homer Simpson style, during every scene he was in. Yet, since the sitcom land dictates that Kevin is a damn delight, the audience plays along. 

(It’s worth noting here that Kevin Can F**K Himself was filmed in front of a studio audience. However AMC tells us that, due to COVID restrictions, the audience was small and far away, so the laughs were not picked up on the audio. Therefore, much of the laughter you hear on the show was added in post-production.)

The dynamic between Kevin, Allison, and the viewers in the studio is an exaggerated version of a tableau that has been unfolding on our TV screens for decades. We see a harried, hot wife play a straight man to a dumpy doofus husband, and we’re all supposed to think it’s simply hilarious. It’s worth noting that Kevin Can F**K HImself cribs its title from the Kevin James’ sitcom Kevin Can Wait, in which the series unceremoniously killed off James’s first super hot wife on the show (Erinn Hayes), only to replace her with his prior super hot sitcom wife, Leah Remini. Because women are oh so very interchangeable in the sitcom world, the laugh track on that show never skipped a beat. 

Canned laughter has historically enabled the entertainment world to lift up mediocre men such as Doug Heffernan (Kevin James), Raymond Barone (Ray Romano), and Kevin Gable (Kevin James, again) at the women’s expense. For ages, only a very small handful of white males were allowed to create content as showrunners, directors, and writers at networks. As they had control over the laugh track, they became the arbiters of what was funny and what was not funny. They got to shape reactions according to their worldview, painting the schlumpy dudes as heroes and the women as eager sidekicks. 

While there are oodles of examples of the long-suffering wife throughout sitcom history, we rarely think of these women as victims. All in the Family is considered a classic, but Archie Bunker was viciously verbally abusive to his wife Edith in almost every episode. Sure, it was a different era (and Archie surely isn’t intended to be a role model), but take away the laughs, and what’s left is a depressing portrait of a red-faced husband straight up screaming at his beleaguered wife. And don’t even get me started on The Honeymooners classic line, “to the moon, Alice!” Ahahahaha, yes, spousal abuse. Hilarious. Well, the laugh track thought so, anyway. 

In more recent years, verbal abuse on sitcoms focusing on husband-wife dyads has given way to a more subtle form of emotional abuse. Often, this appears in the form of financial abuse in which a spouse spends or hides money from the other in order to keep them in their place. In Kevin Can F**K Himself, Kevin consistently spends money without consulting Allison first. In one episode, he even proudly states that a recent purchase cost “more than our wedding, but less than our car.” 

This type of abuse has played out in sitcoms forever. Doug Heffernan often hid his spending from Carrie, Raymond Barone invested in a go-cart venture without telling Deborah, and even Fred Flintstone stole money from Wilma’s hidden stash (yep, The Flintstones was a cartoon, but it inexplicably also had a laugh track). These transgressions are generally perceived to be harmless on screen, leading to those canned laffs and a resolution in 30 minutes or less, but in real life, this type of clandestine behavior in relation to finances can be catastrophic, trapping an unhappy wife in a relationship with no means to escape. 

Even TV series that didn’t utilize the wife/husband premise – notably Frasier and Friends – often used audience laughter to support misogynistic punchlines. Friends notoriously used the laugh track to support harmful jokes about fat shaming and transphobia while Frasier’s archaic attitudes towards women were often played for comedy. Personally, I will never ever get over how Frasier Crane treated Roz Doyle, slut shaming her at every turn for over a decade when, in fact, Frasier was sleeping with half of Seattle with nary an eyebrow raise in his snooty direction. (Sorry, rant over. But, seriously, Peri Gilpin rules. #JusticeForRoz)

Laugh tracks help normalize these behaviors. If you’re not laughing at the joke when everyone else is, something must be wrong with you. Women have faced this exact dilemma since the beginning of time. Laugh along or be judged as cold and unfeeling. Be in on the joke or be tossed to the side. This truism is even noted in the recent HBO Max series Hacks in which aging comic Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) confesses to a newbie comedienne why she makes fun of herself in her own act. With a wan smile, Deborah says, “I realized they would rather laugh at me than believe me.”

These are the same exact challenges that Allison finds herself facing in Kevin Can F**K Himself. When Kevin is around, Allison tries her best to play the role she’s been given so that he won’t make her life even more miserable. No one believes or cares that Kevin is awful because they think Allison is lucky to even have landed a man at all. The series overtly illustrates that these types of stories have always just shrugged at viewers, telling us, oh well, boys will be boys, while women’s suffering is shoehorned into punchlines instead of taken seriously. Rather than confronting the thorny reality of disentangling the institutions that lift the Kevins up and keep the Allisons down, the sitcom world treats women’s pain like a joke.  

After years and years under Kevin’s oppressive thumb, Allison isn’t laughing anymore. She’s full of rage and ready to break free. When we see her in her life without Kevin, there are no prescriptive beats dictating what’s funny and what’s not. And it’s so refreshing. Life can be funny! Sometimes Allison is funny in her real life too! Annie Murphy is also very very funny! And yet, even in the absence of a laugh track, viewers can pick up on the funny. Because in this modern age of entertainment, viewers are savvy enough to know what they feel. 

As canned laughter has slowly disappeared, TV has opened up to more nuanced emotion, allowing viewers to discover and explore the highs and lows for themselves. It’s probably not surprising to learn that the few existing series that do still use laugh tracks, such as United States of Al and Bob Hearts Abishola – both airing on CBS and both created by Chuck Lorre – have been critiqued for leaning on racist and sexist stereotypes. Oddly enough, an urban myth has been circulating the internet for years, claiming that everyone on laugh tracks is actually dead because the recordings were made so long ago. As modern audio engineers now update their recordings regularly, this is not true, but the truth is that the laugh track itself is soon headed to an unmarked grave in the entertainment cemetery alongside tube televisions, Smell-O-Vision, and home video rentals.  

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

With critically acclaimed comedies such as Schitt’s Creek (also starring Annie Murphy!), Fleabag, and The Good Place getting laughs without any pre-recorded assistance, home audiences are getting more savvy as to what’s actually funny and what’s just a cheap shot. In addition, social media and the ubiquitous sharing of memes have effectively displaced the laugh track, as people can now actually be part of an interactive community with others, watching and reacting to the same show at the same time. 

In Kevin Can F**K Himself, canned laughter has finally taken its rightful place as a relic of the past. The chuckles and chortles that pepper the series are a knowing nod to a bygone era in which TV series tried to force the funny on viewers instead of letting them find their own way. Finally, laugh tracks aren’t in on the joke; they are the joke.

Kevin Can F**k Himself airs Sundays at 9 p.m. ET on AMC.

The post Kevin Can F**K Himself Shows Why The Laugh Track Needs to Die appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2UmnzJj

[altaruwusmolboiz]

TW: ABLEISM IN THE SCRIPT.

Lines in 13 that make me believe Brett Sampson isn’t straight.

When I thought about 13 the musical from a queer standpoint, I originally didn’t think of Brett. I’d agree that Brett was queer in some way, but I felt like the character that was really queer was Lucy, especially towards her feelings towards Kendra. However, I am now fully convinced that Brett particularly is suffering from compulsive heterosexuality. Here are some lines that make me think that.

Let’s start with how, instead of actually stating his love for Kendra, he makes Malcom and Eddie do it. This already makes me believe he doesn’t have genuine feelings for Kendra, and just thinks he likes her because he feels he’s supposed to. Otherwise, he’d be considered uncool.

Okay, look, I would give the writers the benefit of the doubt and say he’s trying to be friendly if he didn’t just meet him. But he did. And you do not just give someone a positive nickname out of nowhere the second you meet them. If Brett was straight and just wanted a friendship with Evan, he would have just said he was really smart and cool. Think of it this way: There is a new kid at school/work/camp/etc. You don’t know who this person is, and you don’t even know if you should trust them. Regardless of how cool they are, you would not give them a nickname the first time you met them, especially not a positive one. It doesn’t make sense.

SIDE NOTE: Like what I said earlier, why would Brett try to get his friends to ask Kendra out if he truly liked her? I get asking for help like a promposal, but that isn’t what he did. He basically had his friends ask her out for him. Let’s move on.

This one I didn’t think about until making this post, but Brett doesn’t seem to care that Lucy is telling Kendra can’t go. Neither do Malcom and Eddie, I feel, represent Brett’s inner thoughts, that he doesn’t really care if Kendra says no (That obviously was not the intention, but that’s what I got from the scene). He does not intervene, despite not really being fond of Lucy, as we’ve shown in previous scenes.

This one is slightly pushing it, and I know I mentioned how Brett calls Evan “The Brain” earlier, but I’d like to think of this scene as “Hey, that’s the most handsome person I have ever met and I only met him yesterday! Look at him go! No homo though.” Keep in mind, Brett had no idea about the Bar Mitzvah yet.

Here’s an example of him after getting invited the party, proving my last point.

Okay, hear me out on this one. Brett actually has an insult for Patrice. Geek. Not the greatest one, but still one. But he just says Archie is “not cool”. Not, at least in this scene, does he make fun of him for anything else about him, not even his very obvious crush on Kendra. While Brett undoubtably has a crush on Evan, I think he is probably attracted to Archie in some way, hence why he’s not great at bullying him. I’ll get to that more in a second.

The kids here seem really excited for Brett to kiss Kendra. It’s almost like he’s pressured to do it, and doesn’t actually want it. He does not want kiss Kendra, but feels like he has to if he’s going to keep their friendship.

Hmm, I wonder what this reminds me of. Oh, that’s right...

(I mean Dean’s parts. I hope that’s clear.)

(Also fun fact: I’m listening to ETAJ as I write this)

TW: FOR VIOLENCE IN THE NEXT PICTURE. PLEASE BE WARNED.

Why would Brett want it to be private? He invited the others there for a reason. My guess is not to show that he doesn’t actually like it, so he can remain popular while still saying he did the tongue with Kendra. Maybe he doesn’t want to do the tongue at all and just to pretend he does. Either way, he doesn’t want it, he’s just saying he does.

So I reached the picture limit so here’s basically the exact quotes of what he is saying.

NOTE: This song also includes violence but I deleted it in these lyrics.

And i’m sitting here

And i should be doing something

And she’s sitting there

And i don’t know why i’m waiting

But oh, any minute

I’ll be getting closer

And i’ll be where i want to be

Any minute

Let’s be real. He does not want this. He has shown that he’s not into this. I think you get that he does not want to tongue Kendra.

Kendra:

And he’s sitting there

And maybe he doesn’t want me

Even Kendra doesn’t think he actually wants her. I don’t think she’s necessarily suspecting Brett is gay, but I do think she knows she’s just being used. I’m not the hugest fan of Kendra, but she is used to being used only for her looks, and that being the only thing people care about when it comes to her.

Brett: [For context, this is when Archie comes in] Hey!

That’s all he says. He has no other response to Archie interrupting him to sit right next to his girlfriend. I think he knows Archie is better for Kendra, and he doesn’t care what Archie does.

Then we have the kiss.

Link:

https://youtu.be/uMwPknXHMNc

For context, this is the entire song. And I think Brett’s initial reaction is shock, but not because it happened. Because he liked it.

This is where his realization really comes in. That’s why he starts going bigger with the insults. Because he’s embarrassed he liked it.

This is NOT EXCUSING HIS ABLEIST WORDS AGAINST ARCHIE. It is not okay and I want to make that very clear, before I move on.

Then, he goes out with Lucy almost immediately after that. Possibly as a retaliation. Possibly to show his friends that he does, in fact, like girls, seeing as they were making fun of him for kissing Archie accidentally.

Brett: I thought I’d just hang with my boys...

Lucy: No. Here’s what we’re going to do this weekend: Go to the mall, buy new shoes, get a mani-pedi...

Brett: Yeah. I think I’ll hang with my boys.

I will not hesitate to admit that a huge chunk of why he isn’t willing to hang out with Lucy is that she is manipulative. I love Lucy but that is true and should be acknowledged. However, I do think a part of the reason why he seems so distant and reluctant is because, like I said, he doesn’t actually like her (Like I mentioned earlier, I don’t think Lucy likes him either. It’s compulsive heterosexuality on both sides.). And, that is even canon. He does not like her. He’s using her the same way he’s using Kendra: Making himself look straight because they are hot. They’re who he is supposed to date.

Brett: Oh, she’s going to destroy me. But she’s hot. But I hate her. But she’s hot.

This tells us everything we need to know. Brett only likes Lucy because she is hot, he only likes Kendra because she is hot. My work is cut out for me.

Evan:

Tell her you’ve thought about what happened

Tell her you haven’t slept at night

Tell her although you made a huge mistake

You want to make it right

Brett: Okay, but this is starting to sound a little gay.

Yep. There it is. I have three different theories on this.

He’s using “gay” as an insult because he thinks it’s a bad thing, like his friends make it out to be.

He’s trying to get over his internalized homophobia by trying to see it as a compliment. He does use the advice, after all.

He has a crush on Evan Goldman himself, and wants to make it sound like he’s also gay, that he may have a chance with him.

But, regardless, this confirms that he views “gay” as some type of negative thing, even if he himself is straight. This town seems pretty homophobic, considering it is Catholic and he got made fun of for kissing Archie in the first place. He was raised here, and must’ve been told all his life he’s going to grow up to have a wife.

Patrice:

Tell her she shouldn’t have ignored you

Or dissed you in front of all the school

Tell her the minute she got out of touch

You felt like such a fool

Tell her that studying together

Was so nice, you prayed it wouldn’t end

Say you forgive her, say you were jealous

Ask if she’ll be your friend

Do I think Patrice is catching onto how Brett isn’t straight? Absolutely. That may be why she said friend instead of girlfriend. And, why would Brett be jealous in a situation like this? Unless he was jealous of Kendra because of Archie, or her because of Evan.

And, then, the fight scene.

I’m not saying Brett wasn’t mad at Kendra, because he definitely was. But, he seemed more mad at Evan. Because he wanted a reason to be. Any reason not to crush on him.

When Evan told him he sucked, Brett responded by punching. I don’t think he would have if it was Malcom or Eddie. Because he could, and did, convince everyone to abandon Evan, and he could do the same for Malcom and Eddie. What got to Brett was that it was Evan.

Also, when Evan told him he would be lucky to have Patrice and Archie, Brett knows it’s true. He thinks he doesn’t deserve them as friends, or even deserves everyone as friends. He thinks he should be miserable for the rest of his life.

Or, he could just be a homophobic, shallow bully, but we’ll never know.

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Villains: Sweet or Shite? - Part 14: SCOURGE

............

............

......Huh?

Oh, hello there! My name's Lutrudis, pleased to meet you. Judging from that look of surprise on your face however, it's evident that you weren't looking for ME per say... What's that? You want to know what this is? Right, of course, my apologies.

Well, this is a mini-series belonging to... ahem, my creator, in which he goes into slightly more detail about his thoughts on the villains in Sonic's history, and why he thinks they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). Usually he gives his stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves in the game(s) they featured in. He also stresses that these are just his own personal thoughts, and that whether you agree or disagree, you're free to share your own thoughts and opinions.

Unfortunately, as you may have gathered, it seems he's a bit occupied for today, and is thus unable to do a review... is what I WOULD be saying if he didn't let me cover for him! That's right boys and girls, I'll be filling in for him today, by doing a little review of my own! Please forgive me if I prattle on for extended periods, but I sincerely hope my efforts in assessing the Wrong'un of the Week are of the utmost quality. Truth be told, it's kind of nerve-wracking, but I'm happy to give it my all for you guys. ❤️

So then, let's carry on with the show, shall we? Welcome to a new edition of Sweet or... Sour. Welcome to Sweet or Sour. Yes indeed, heh heh... (Is the creator's language normally this gratuitous? I hope Cream hasn't seen his posts...)

Anyhow, for today's review... well, this is quite interesting. Normally the creator prefers to keep his reviews focused on game-centric villains, but I guess he made an exception with this one. Today, we'll be directing our attention to a notorious copycat of our blue hero in the Archie continuity, and legendary connoisseur of 70's fashion: Scourge the Hedgehog.

The Gist: Once upon a time, in the land of comics, there was a world known by all as Mobius. But there was also a parallel dimension called Anti-Mobius, or as it would later become known as, Moebius... one E makes all the difference, apparently. Anyway, in this dimension, everyone and everything that existed in Mobius had an identical equivalent in Anti-Mobius, but things operated a bit differently, in the sense that they were largely the opposite of what we were familiar with.

Putting aside the rather disturbing implication that this world might not have had any real will or independence if it existed purely to do the opposite of what Mobius did, this meant that it had a Sonic the Hedgehog of its very own, as well as a father to that Sonic. Sadly though, this Sonic's father was not that kind to him. In fact, he was said to be a rather poor excuse for a father, as evidenced by how he didn't give his son enough attention, and... oh, that's it.

How awful.

I'd say his choice of attire is the real crime presented here.

Anti-Mobius in its original form experienced a period of Great Peace, but alas, it was not to last. It soon became a shadow of its former glory, which seemed prophetic in hindsight, as it was by this time that this world's Sonic the Hedgehog - Evil Sonic - murdered his own father in cold blood, and then threw his world's incarnation of King Maximilian Acorn into the Zone of Silence. He quickly became a dictator to the people of Anti-Mobius, with his only immediate opposition coming in the form of the kindhearted counterpart to Dr. Ivo Robotnik... or should that be Dr. Julian Robotnik, in this continuity...? Hmm, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore...

Naturally, the laws of the universe saw fit to correct this wrong. Just as water is wet, and fire is hot, Sonic gives evildoers a right kicking. And lo and behold, our magnificent hero did eventually meet his evil duplicate. The two were evenly matched in speed, but the good-natured Sonic triumphed regardless, possibly because he had more wittiness on his person.

Pictured: Quality banter.

Evil Sonic later brought along the rest of his gang to aid him, who predictably mirrored Sonic's own band of Freedom Fighters. They were just as much of a match for our heroes, which is a polite way of saying they weren't. You really shouldn't expect anything exquisite when they looked like this.

Maybe you should call your group something else then...

These parlor games went on for a while, with the status quo never truly changing. But then, after one final showdown with Sonic, the evil Robotnik of Mobius kicked the bucket, which among other things, inspired ANOTHER Robotnik to fill the void. This Robo-Robotnik took Evil Sonic along with him to commit many acts of dastardly intent, an act of generosity that proved to be tragically undermined by Evil Sonic getting caught and trapped by different people time and time again, to the point where even his old gang had long replaced him with a new leader. He did go on to escape the grasp of one Zonic the Zone Cop... only to later get arrested again by the same guy. So far, so adorably incompetent, right?

Still, he did bust out once more, and he proceeded to turn the overall universe into a glorified soap drama by pulling the moves on numerous ladies in Mobius, which in true Evil Sonic style, achieved precisely nothing of merit. Even after he briefly teamed up with Rouge the Bat, his luck persisted in not manifesting. But things were about to get even worse... for us. On a meta level, if you know what I mean.

After one final botched attempt at pointless thievery, with the Master Emerald being the prime target in this particular case, Evil Sonic's attempt to gain himself a super form was halted midway with great force by none other than Locke, the notorious father and attempted microwave murderer of Knuckles the Echidna. Rather than kill him however, all this did was change his fur to green, and leave him with some hardcore scars.

He promptly renamed himself Scourge. Because he's a real SCOURGE to good ideas, har har.

New kid in town, do not steal.

With his first act of villainy as a new man tattering to pieces due to foolishly invoking the wrath of Shadow the Hedgehog, he soon crossed paths with Dr. Finitevus, an albino echidna who otherwise looked exactly like Knuckles (good heavens, how many of these can one muster?), and spent some time on his side by aiding a new gang of lovely gentlemen called the Destructix. Together, these functioning psychopaths committed more mindless evil.

He also managed to swoon over Fiona Fox to his side, a miraculous modicum of success considering you need some sort of charm to be able to do that, of which Scourge has shown nil. I'm hardly an expert on dishing out romantic advice, but I'm willing to bet there's plenty of superior fish in the sea, Fiona...

How about “Oh my god, did I seriously die to THESE losers?”

Eventually, Scourge and Fiona broke away from Finitevus' allegiance after the deadly and boring Enerjak was unleashed on Mobius. He returned to Anti-Mobius, and it turned out that any repairs made since the last time he was king didn't amount to anything substantial, because he went and conquered the entire land all over again. Rechristening his old gang as the Suppression Squad, he continued Being Evil™ some more, until the aforementioned Suppression Squad betrayed him for constantly being abhorrent to them, which led to him being stuck with Rosy the Rascal for a while, yet another shameful derivative of a close friend.

In his last days, at long last, he finally achieved a super form with the power of an Anarchy Beryl... only to get soundly thrashed once again, get thrown in prison, and then just when it seemed he'd be back in business, he got wiped out by the Genesis Wave. Tch, Mondays, am I right?

As you can tell from my words alone, let alone in an extremely abridged format, he did a fair amount over the years... and yet at the same time, when you really think about it, he ultimately did so very little.

Oh, and there was also a Metal Scourge at one point. I'm aware that the man who made him has never been all there in the head, but I still find myself questioning why he saw fit to go through with this nonsense.

I shouldn't need to say this, but that's a disgrace to the hostile Eggman robot that I know and detest.

The Design: Well, he started off as a Sonic, so it's to be expected that he'd look exactly like the lovable goof. Since this was ~Evil~ Sonic though, he was determined to remind us at all times that Grease was in fact the word.

~You're the one I don't want, you're not the one for, no-ho-ho, honey~

Then he turned green, and... yeah, he turned green. All I can say, really.

Please excuse me, I'm utterly beside myself with amazement.

It doesn't quite strike the imaginative chords, needless to say. And neither does his super state, which... I'm sorry, it's not normally my cup of tea to chide others for their appearance, but just look at this tripe for a moment.

No, I don't think I will.

When you combine his already ridiculous self with black eyes and a tiara... what exactly is the intent here? Am I supposed to be intimidated by this display?

Keep this between us if you can, but personally, I'm more intimidated by staircases than I am by this fiend.

The Personality: You would think that since a Sonic is a Sonic, Scourge would share a lot of his personality with our Sonic. And that is true... in the most superficial sense possible.

Sure, he's jovial, cocky, and prone to moments of overconfidence, which is enough to sound very familiar to us on paper. Beyond that however, that's all they really have in common beside their appearance. In every other category, you could argue that Scourge is the exact opposite of Sonic.

For instance, whereas Sonic is supremely loyal to his friends (trust me, I’m grateful to know!), Scourge treats his gang like fetid garbage, and that's when he's not outright abandoning them, neglecting them, and putting them in danger. Likewise, whereas Sonic is a blue bundle of bravery no matter the odds, Scourge is a poor little chicken when the going gets tough, despite all his ramblings about being Sonic's full potential.

This means that for all the acclaim he receives as Sonic's evil doppelganger... he shares very few similarities with who he's replicating. He's barely any different from all the other ruffians that Sonic faces, so what point is there to him being a Sonic at all? If he had a different name and design entirely, what would honestly be lost in translation?

But then, maybe he would just become Mephiles the Dark instead.

Or Mimic the Octopus instead.

Or Eggman Nega instead.

Or Ken Penders instead.

Or... sheesh, they all kind of blend together after a while, don’t they?

The Execution: If my general tone has thus far not been enough of an obvious indication, I do not rank Scourge with any particular favouritism when it comes to Sonic's rogue gallery.

Mind you, ANYONE who threatens our world and tries to kill my friends is nothing but rancid at their core, and as long as they remain unrepentant, I would never support any of them. Asking me which dangerous maniac is “the best” is like asking me which sewage stinks the least, after all. But even I can understand that there's a right way to do bad, and a wrong way to do bad. Scourge, Evil Sonic, whatever you wish to call him, falls squarely into the latter category.

How I'd love to shove an arrow up His Majesty's rear end.

First of all, his motivations were poorly structured, and that's putting it tactfully. Most of the time, we're led to assume that he does evil for no other reason than because it's evil, so we're already not looking at masterpiece material. But as it turns out, as I mentioned way earlier on, he grew resentful of his father for not giving him as much attention as he felt he deserved.

So when he killed his dear old dad, and went on to do everything else to bitterly stick it to his dad's memory, we're supposed to... sympathise...? Understand his point of view, perhaps...?

Well, I dare say I'll be sticking my nose up to THAT presumption, because there is no pathos to be had here. None at all. It's just a selfish brat becoming a violent and murderous selfish brat, and nothing more. By doing everything for evil's sake, intertwined with this sorry excuse of a tragic backstory, it's as if he's trying to have the best of both villainous worlds, without understanding what makes either of them work.

Secondly, for what little success that Scourge actually had to his name, few of them were by his own hand so to speak. As much as it pains me to give Dr. Eggman even a veneer of kudos, it does require mentioning that for all of the doctor's contemptible attributes, he truly is single-handedly responsible for a great majority of his own... achievements, if you wish to call them such. By contrast, this stinker rarely worked for his moments, instead often relying solely on others to get anything done efficiently, whether it be Fiona, Finitevus, his gangs, or the Anarchy Beryl. Without them, Scourge was always nothing.

Thirdly, as mentioned, he failed to fulfill even the basic concept of what Sonic would be like if he became evil, since he has virtually nothing in common with the hero he's trying so desperately to present himself as the corrupted counterpart to. While I'd obviously prefer not to entertain the mere notion of an evil Sonic anyways, since I know deep in my heart that he would never go down that path, I know him well enough to reasonably assume that even if he did lose his way, he would still be recognisable in some capacity, since there are countless aspects to his personality that remain so... inherent to how his mind operates.

I guess what I'm saying is that if an evil Sonic came to be, he would exist as a darker mirror of how Sonic actually is, and not... something that is not at all like Sonic beyond the physical.

What's the matter? Not used to a horse seeing you for what you really are?

Finally, remember when I said he was considerably more cowardly than Sonic? I wasn't simply referring to life or death battles and similar heat of the moment situations. Even when the scenario is of lower intensity, when the odds are completely in his favor at that, Scourge proves himself to be what Sonic isn't. Remember when he broke into the house of Sonic's father, with the intent to intimidate and kill said father... only to be scolded into submission by him? We're expected to believe this guy is a big baddie who ranks high in threat level, yet getting a telling off is sufficient enough to shoo him away?

If only Eggman was this easy to deal with...

Now granted, it's to my understanding that all of Scourge's failings are occasionally explained as him being a parody character. But, and correct me if I'm wrong here... aren't parodies supposed to be, you know, parodic, even if done subtly? As opposed to being played completely straight with no trace of irony, which is exactly how Scourge was portrayed throughout the entire duration of the comic's run, with no exceptions whatsoever?

Despite how often the comic insisted otherwise, and despite how often he received it, Scourge was not a villain who warranted importance. He was not a master planner, or a legendary conquerer, or a malevolent force of nature. He was bottom of the barrel, a wannabe at best, who thought he was made for bigger stripes, but remained little more than a walking pile of fresh manure, with nothing to show for it till the very end. His credibility was often alluded to, and handed to him, but never in any stretch was it properly earned. A punk who occasionally got lucky is hardly worth the rank of arch-fiend, in my humble opinion. He was a disgrace who simply had the luxury of wearing Sonic's skin to mask his shortcomings, and I can’t say I’m crestfallen to see him go.

And quite frankly, anyone who impersonates Sonic in the first place reeks to high heaven anyway. To think this trash heap thought he could ever compare in the slightest to my darling... Oh goodness, did I say that out loud?

Lutrudis Gives Scourge a: Thumbs Down!

[she1smyscar]

Reasons Why I Don’t Like Barchie

Let me start off by saying that I don't really have a ship for any of the teens really. There are some that I like more than others and there are a couple that are 100% my NOTPs (Barchie being one of them), but I'm not a Bughead stan, a Varchie stan, a Beronica stan, a Choni stan, etc. I mainly focus on the plot and the parents. Ships aren't my main focus most of the time. But I haven't been able to watch this season since Barchie got so much bigger and I'll tell you why.

When I started to watch Riverdale, I was 100% in Betty's shoes. I had a big crush on my best friend and I thought that eventually we'd end up together and when I thought he liked me back, I got rejected just like Betty and was expected to continue to move on as best friends as if nothing happened. But just like Betty, it was too hard and too painful. That happened to me irl only about a few weeks before I watched it happen on Riverdale and I went through that heartbreak all over again. I've seen shippers praising the exact scene where Archie broke Betty's heart after the dance. I don't understand why you could praise a scene where he HURT her. It would be the same vice versa....if she had broken his heart. Either way, it's not romantic at all. She went into her room and probably cried that night. Something I know well about feeling unwanted.

I know several people blame Grundy for that, but that doesn't make any sense. Here's why. Archie never looked at Betty the way he looked at Veronica THE SECOND, she showed up in Pop's her first night in Riverdale. Right there is a clear sign that he wasn't interested in Betty. He proposed to her when they were younger, yes. But they grew up, still really close to each other, and he never asked her out. Meaning he either didn't see her the way he saw Veronica that first day, or he really did just want to stay friends with Betty. Back to Grundy. People say that Archie felt drawn to Grundy so he rejected Betty. But if it were because of Grundy, why, only two episodes after Grundy leaves, did Archie go straight for VALERIE and NOT Betty? Grundy left in Season 1, Episode 4. Which means Archie could have gotten with Betty (if she really was his first choice) in Season 1, Episode 5. I know, I know. It was too soon, right? Hm? Then why did Archie get with Valerie in Season 1, Episode 6? That's not even that much longer after Grundy left. So when people say that Archie has loved Betty this whole time, it doesn't feel true to me, because if she really was his first choice, he would've gone right to her once Grundy was gone, but nope. He chose Valerie first. Also...he kissed Veronica in Episode 1, which shows that Grundy was definitely not stopping him from kissing other girls. They both KNEW Betty liked him yet they kissed anyway even though they WERE just gonna stand in the closet and not do anything till time was up, but they kissed anyway because they were attracted to each other. If Archie was attracted to Betty from the get-go, he wouldn't have held back from kissing her the moment he knew she liked him. He liked Veronica that way, not Betty. So I'm debunking the Grundy theory.

Another thing that bothers me is when people call Jughead "Betty's rebound" off of Archie. Hm...if that was true, I doubt she would've stayed with her "rebound" as long as 4 years. Especially since Betty and Archie have both been single at the same time yet she still chose Jughead over him. She fell for Jug after he finally gave her back the stuff she's been waiting for from Archie. So Jughead was and is not a rebound. If anything, Veronica was ARCHIE's rebound. But not from Betty. FROM VALERIE. He got drunk af at Jughead's birthday party because it was right after Val left him for being a terrible boyfriend (which he clearly is) and after Val threw her drink in his face, he got more drunk and then Veronica kissed him and he was like "Oh, sure. I'll sleep with you since you kissed me and I'm upset and Val left me."

Back to Archie being a terrible boyfriend (aside from when he was with Josie). With Val...he ignored her and only gave her attention when he was gaining something with his music. Then Cheryl's family gave him an opportunity to go to a good music school, so boom, he ignored Val's wish not to be Cheryl's date to her family Maple Gathering. Dumb move. No wonder Val told him she was done. Then...with Veronica, he kissed Betty. But then Betty was not interested (Hmmm, because she loves her “”rebound”” Jughead so much). And then Veronica told Archie to stay away from Hiram and what did Archie do? Completely ignored her and got stuck in some big mob mess and illegal shit. Then he broke up with her over the phone when she was trying to support him. So she got with Reggie who treated her so well (yes, they had problems too) but he was so whipped for her, let's be real. He did everything she wanted and he would've done anything for her. Then they had their issues and broke up but they were about to get back together, LITERALLY, just as Archie showed up and was all "I love you. Come back to me" and Veronica was obviously still not over him, so poor Reggie had no chance and then Veronica got back with Archie who she should not have gotten back with. She was amazing to him (all of his friends were) when his father passed away. But VERONICA talked him out of saying that his father would be ashamed of him and she made him see otherwise and told him that Fred would be proud of him. That's a GOOD girlfriend. Meanwhile, Archie still has eyes for other girls (Betty now apparently). But anyway. I'm just saying that Betty AND Veronica both deserve a better guy than Archie Andrews.

I just don't see why any girl on this show would be shipped with him. Remember when Veronica decided to kiss Jughead to even the playing field after they told Jug about Barchie kissing? Archie looked pissed. Like wtf? You kissed Betty when you were STILL WITH VERONICA. At least Betty and Jughead were over at the time. I don't believe Archie had a right to look so mad about Jeronica's little fun/platonic kiss when what he did was behind Veronica's back and while they were still together. Her and Jug "getting even" was right there in front of the other two and playful. Nothing to be angry or possessive about Archie. Jeez.

The only time he was an outstanding boyfriend was with Josie and that was the only time I was actually EXCITED to watch Archie scenes. They were great together and they both EQUALLY supported each other and helped each other through things. Not to say that Archie doesn't have good qualities, because he does. He's been trying to clean up Riverdale and he helped Veronica figure out how to get Hiram to fight through his sickness. But I just really can't see him with Betty after everything they've been through without each other. They barely talk anyway till now when they're FAKING being together.

Bonus: There are people who talk about how Archie and Betty doing investigations together are better than Betty and Jughead. But the only time Betty and Archie did an investigation together was to figure out who the Black Hood was and they ended up unmasking the wrong person. Their janitor, who was actually innocent. So clearly, Betty and Jughead are a better team. Not to mention, Archie can really be one of the biggest dumbasses in Riverdale.

THE COMICS: Yes. I know they are canon in the comics. But we well know that the comics and the show are VERY different (Did you know that Penny Peabody and Fangs Fogarty are supposed to be endgame like they are in the comics??? But Riverdale made Penny a 30 year old and Fangs a 16 year old, so that became a "NO" right away. Hence...the difference between the show and the comics). Also....there are comics where Betty kisses Archie behind Veronica's back when Varchie were together and she kissed him without his consent in the dark when he thought he was kissing Veronica (A BIG "NO"). So the comics aren't really a good template to follow. Especially since nowadays, I really don't see chemistry between Lili and KJ. Their fake kiss in the music room (I've seen it on Twitter, because I still haven't seen 4x16) was so awkward and weird to watch. It was so bad. Idk. I can't get behind it.

THE FORBIDDEN LOVE: I don’t understand why people call them forbidden, when they’re both Northsiders who grew up next door to each other and they were never forbidden from being friends. They’re not a forbidden love. Bughead was at first because he was from the Southside and Alice didn’t want Betty to be around Jug or Serpents. But Barchie is definitely not forbidden love. If it is now, then it’s because they would both be cheating and that is disgusting.

Anyway, I haven't been able to watch the season since 4x15, because all of this fake Barchie nonsense legit makes me ACTUALLY sick to my stomach. Cheating really is not okay at all and them pretending that Archie cheated on Veronica and that Betty would get another boyfriend SO FAST after she was framed for MURDERING HER OWN really does not sit well with me or my stomach. The writers are NOT doing this right. If they wanted Barchie to be together....the best way to have done that would have been through them ACTUALLY breaking up with their s/o and then becoming close friends again AND THEN moving around to that romance. But this fake dating and fake cheating stuff is disgusting and I don't think I'm gonna continue season 4 if they become canon that way. Just no.

[abeltownshipslittlebitch]

The Eye of the Hurricane

I got this idea after listening to Hamilton and thinking a lot about how Venus Rising ended. Because of how it ended, it was heavily implied that both Five and Captain Myers were infected with the red fungus from Venus stuff, so I decided that would be a perfect angst story.

Five’s POV, 1st person because that’s the only way I can write plus it helps keep Five gender neutral. Present tense. About 2.8K Words.

Since I already said that Five and Peter totally were dating in the Venus Rising shorts in a sperate post and I’m not a bitch who backs down, that will be the stated relationship. Also, the song is Hurricane Workshop, and I took the liberty of changing some of the lyrics so please don’t be mad when you see the lyrics aren’t the exact same. This is like half-assed edited. It’s 3:20 AM where I’m at, so please be kind if you spot any errors! Thank you! Also please for the love of all things good, read the trigger warnings. This is angst for a reason!

Also I suggest reading this on a computer instead of mobile device because things are looking kind of wanky from my viewpoint on my phone, even though it was fine on my computer. So just thought I’d let you know.

Trigger warning: Character death, suicide, murder, self-hatred, guilt, guilt complex, mentions of blood, angst not with a happy ending, one use of the word “fucks”

In the eye of a hurricane there is quiet for just a moment A yellow sky.

Space is not forgiving. It’s endless and dark and cold. Its beauty is deceitful. Its emptiness is ever consuming.

It takes everything in me to tear my eyes away from the endless expanse of burning stars and stifling darkness. I breathe, grounding myself. I look down at the blaster in my hand. It’s so hard to think already, my mind reeling. Bits of bliss flitter through my thoughts, reminders of home, reminders of loved ones. With each inhale come the scents of places millions of miles away. I taste honey on my tongue, hear the laughter of friends that have long since gone.

When I was seventeen a hurricane destroyed my town. I didn’t drown… I couldn’t seem to die.

They’re dead. They’re all dead.

Peter’s dead. Ellie’s dead. Steve’s dead. Amelia’s dead.

And now Captain Myers.

I didn’t want to. Really, I didn’t. But things weren’t adding up. Her speech patterns, her words, dripping with honey and faux hope. It wasn’t her. I tried to chalk it up to paranoia, to trauma-not even from the death. I’ve seen more than enough of that on earth to become numb to it, but I thought maybe I was traumatized from the horror of those creatures in the mountain. I’d never seen anything like them before. I tried to tell myself I was just overthinking, but I knew. It wasn’t her.

Neither was the red that was growing under her fingernails, the red she tried to hide from me.

But she couldn’t hide the bliss that covered her face, and I couldn’t ignore the ringing of voices that echoed in my mind. I remember home far too vividly. I remember happiness more intensely than I have in years, with colors too bright and sounds too perfect and air too clean to be real. It’s a fantasy that tries to disguise itself as something I once knew. That’s what tipped me off. It felt too good to remember.

I knew if I was infected, then so was the Captain.

That’s why I shot her. That’s why her body lays in the floor of the next cabin, covered in red fungus that engulfs her like a blackhole that engulfs that which gets too close.

My breathing is shallow. I had to.

I. Had. To.

I fought my way out. Took everything down far as I could see.

I’ve always been good at this, doing what needs to be done. Some things you just have to do in order to survive and that’s what I did. People needed me on earth to be strong, to bear the burden and carry the weighted guilt so they wouldn’t have to.

So I did.

I learned to move on quickly. I don’t feel guilty about Captain Myers. I had to do it. I don’t feel guilty.

I don’t.

I don’t.

I don’t!

My nails dig into my skin. I can barely understand the words that spill from my tongue. They feel foreign, inhuman.

I’m not guilty. I don’t feel guilty! I’ve done this a hundred times. It’s done now and I have to move on!

Anyone I lost to sickness, to pollution or war between groups hellbent on gaining food and property in a world too far gone to save-I moved on. Even now that I have time to cry, I’m don’t. I can’t. I don’t even know if I remember how.

Still my chest tightens at the thought of all we’ve lost. It betrays the lies I tell myself. I smell honeysuckles and roses when I breathe in, but it hurts. Each rose-scented inhale is met with an exhale of thorns and tightening vines. Or maybe the fungus in filling up my lungs. I’m not sure.

I took this mission to help save my family back on earth. They aren’t my real family, not by blood, but they became family. And I won’t be coming back to them. I failed them.

I already failed my family before I became aware that I was infected. Peter was my family. Peter was my everything, despite the snide remarks and eyerolls and teasing that bordered on cruelty. It was our way of acting out while remaining somewhat professional, since this job does-did-mean a lot to him.

I respected that. I respected him. And then I just stood there and watched as Steve went feral and attacked him, killed him.

My throat burns, and I almost feel relieved when I taste bile on my tongue instead of peaches and strawberries. Something akin to a cry rips from my lips. It’s ragged and raw and why am I still unable to cry, damn it?! 

I should have been faster! I should have been better!

I fought my way out. I looked up and the town had its eyes on me.

I was gifted with creativity as well as ambition. Knowing the ins and outs of basic survival saved my life and others’ lives more than once. Hydroponics, water filters, hunting, farming. My knowledge is what helped me gain friends, despite my violent tendencies and willfulness to kill to survive. Those who allied with me on earth before I joined up with Pandora Haze seemed to think my pros outweighed my cons.

They were right, especially when they found out I’m incredibly loyal to the people I call friends.

Not loyal enough, though. I let the one person I truly, deeply cared about on this mission die.  

They passed their tools around. Total strangers moved to kindness by my ideas. Took enough for me to book passage on a ship at was England bound.

The help of those around me is what gave me the resources to build different hydroponics and gardens for smaller communities. It’s what got someone at Pandora Haze’s attention too. My skills got me noticed, and when they saw how good I was at the obstacle courses and at problem solving, as well as with combat, they asked me to join with the space department because I “showed promise and seemed more than capable to help in saving the human race.”

I never saw myself as a savior of any kind. I still don’t, but they offered payment-food, medicine, tools and tech. Joining is how I met everyone on this mission, and even if fate hadn’t had led me to meeting them, I couldn’t pass this job up, not even the world is literally burning from the inside out and wars are being started over clean water and warm clothes.

One of my friends, Sam, seemed suspicious. He was afraid, mostly because we’d been together for years. He didn’t agree with some of my methods of getting supplies, but he trusted me, and I trusted him. He and I formed our alliance first and the group grew from there. For a long time we were all the other had, so of course he was concerned.

But he became less worried when I kept coming back like I promised I would.

He didn’t want me going on this mission. He said it felt wrong, that he just knew something bad would end up happening to me. I didn’t listen. I had too many reasons to go and not enough to not go.

First reason for me to go was that Peter was going. He is-was-one of the people I enjoy being around in Pandora Haze’s space program. I don’t get to see him much outside of work because it would raise suspicion, and there’s a strict “no dating between coworkers” rule that would cause us both to lose our jobs if anyone found out. This was the one way I could be around him, even if we couldn’t act like we really cared for each other.

The other reason I decided to come was because the pay for this mission was incredible. I’d have food and medicine for not only myself, but for the people in my family. Sam, Archie, Jody, Lem, Ed and his daughter-all of them. We’d be set for at least a few months. That’s more than a lot of people can ask for in the wreckage that we called home.

I fought my way out of hell. I fought my way to revolution. I was louder than our flag when it fell.

So I came here, did this mission which was supposed to be simple, supposed to be easy, supposed to be safe. I feel safe. I feel warm. It’s a deep sense of calmness that threatens to pull me under like the blackness outside would do if I were to open the airlock. I can hear the whispers even louder now, and the taste of sweet fruits on my tongue is ever stronger, mixing with the occasional chocolate I would half with Sam when we were allowed such luxuries.

I can see it in front of me-home, happiness. I still see the pain and destruction and fire, but it seems so much tamer now. There’s less chaos, less bloodshed. I look down and don’t see the stains of the lives I’ve taken in order to stay alive.

It feels good to see this, good to feel this.

That’s why I bite down on my tongue, hard enough to make it bleed, nearly hard to enough to bite it clean off. But my brain stops me, basic survival instincts stopping me from doing too much damage. I don’t have the energy to fight it, and thankfully it’s enough to bring me back down, push the voices of those I love to the back of my mind until they’re nothing but a dull buzz that resonates in my ears.

They’ll be back. This isn’t the worst of it.

It makes me sick to think that, because the voices are not of just of the people I left on earth, but the people I’ve lost.

We wrote in secret. Love letters we hid well. I fought for the people I love and defended them well. And in the face of ignorance and resistance, I fought for new systems to be put in existence.

On earth things are still terrible, people dying, people fighting over resources that will grow more scarce day by day. We won’t be able to stop what is to come. Humanity will fall. After joining up with Pandora Haze, I met many people who tried to come up with ideas to save the world, save humanity.

A smart woman named Janine always had a solution, a plan that was perfect to even the smallest detail. I never talked to her much, but I believed in what she said. She gave people hope, but not through sweet words or circling stories or empty promises. She spoke the truth, told us the work that would need to be done in order to fix things. I think she could have fixed things, had she come up with these ideas quicker. They were perfect, after all. I did whatever I could to get her plans into motion…

But even perfect plans can fail. People are too unpredictable now, all morals thrown out the window. There’s no sense of loyalty, no sympathy or humanity or humility. Venus Colony was supposed to be our big breakthrough.

And when my prayers to God were met with indifference I picked up a gun. I wrote my own deliverance!

I suppose I’m a part of the problem. I was willing to kill and destroy to protect the people I love. Many of the people back on earth have already lost the ones they cared about, so now all they can worry about is themselves. I’m sure I would have ended up the same way if I didn’t know of certain ways to survive in small communities or groups. I survived because I fought, I killed and destroyed and stole and did everything possible to stay alive.

And even that wasn’t worth it. I’m still dying, blood pooling in my mouth from biting my tongue and pain just barely overshadowing the sickly-sweet way everything feels. I can feel the red fungus growing under my fingers. I wish it hurt. I wish it didn’t feel like the not-quite soft sweater Jody knitted for me for my birthday. I wish it didn’t feel like the blanket Archie gave up to keep me warm when I had pneumonia. I wish it didn’t feel like safety and goodness and peace.

I wish it didn’t. I wish it hurt.

In the eye of a hurricane there is quiet for just a moment A yellow sky.

I look down. It’s almost time. I never thought of myself as a coward, but I don’t think I have it in me to use the blaster. I don’t know why. I’ve thought about dying more than once, and most of the scenarios were violent and painful. I mean, you have to think about it in this day and age. Death has always been inevitable, but now death is always on your heels, and it will catch you when you slow down.

I slowed down here. It’s almost caught me. It’s just waiting for me to decide how I’m going to go.

There’s another way I’ll do this, I think. I don’t know if I deserve it-a peaceful death. After all I’ve lived through, after surviving this long when everyone else on this mission has died in horrendous and agonizing ways, a part of me thinks I should die painfully, slowly. It’s only fair…

But I can’t.

I was twelve when my mother died. She was holding me. We were sick and she was holding me. I couldn’t seem to die.

There are bracelets in a compartment in the Captain’s deck. I have one of them on. I don’t remember why they were created, what specific reason. I don’t remember who created them either. Amelia’s got some sick fucks working for her, which is probably why she didn’t think my body count was as bad as I believed it to be when I was hired. But whatever the case, I’m glad they’re here.

The bracelets are mechanical, and with the push of a button, needles will poke out, dig into my skin and administer a lethal drug. It’ll be quick. It’ll be painless.

It’ll be a death I don’t deserve.

It’ll be a death that was much more merciful than the deaths I’ve witnessed today.

The friend who would tell me not to do it is in the ground.

At least I’ll get to see them again. I hope I’ll see them again.

I hope I’ll see Peter again.

I wonder if I should leave a message for those back on earth. Will they even see it? Will they even hear it? Can I even trust myself to speak?

I shake my head, closing my eyes for a tad second before opening them again. No. It’s best they just get the message that Captain Myers made. It was safe. It was clean.

Besides, I don’t even know what I’d say. What can you say in a time like this?

The enemies I’ve made won’t have anything on me now.

I swallow down a mouthful of coppery blood, but even it isn’t strong enough to silence the raging voices, begging me to just give in. The fungus is becoming thicker under my fingernails. Red is clouding my vision.

It feels so good, so peaceful. All pain fades away like a distant memory.

I wish I could cry. I wish I knew what to say. I wish I wasn’t alone.

I wish this didn’t all feel so good. I feel euphoric, almost to the point that I don’t want to leave. I can see them all, feel it. It’s so beautiful, so overwhelming and crushing and amazing and I wish it wasn’t.

My breathing is shaky, but the one coherent thought I have it simple…

This ends here.

I can hear what the voices are saying in response.

“Wait for it. Wait for it. Wait for it.”

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.

My finger hovers over the button. I’m shaking.

I’m smiling.

I look back out at the glass window, at the stars that burn for me, someone who will never get to write of their beauty, who won’t even have the pleasure of remembering it to tell to my friends when I get back home.

I’m going home. That’s what I tell myself. I’m going home.

Space is not forgiving. It’s endless and dark and cold. Its beauty is deceitful. Its emptiness is ever consuming.

But its there, a sight to behold, too beautiful and chaotic and breathtakingly terrifying for any human’s mind to understand.

This is the eye of the hurricane. This is the only way I can protect my family.

I feel a tear slide down my cheek, and while I don’t mean to, I laugh.

“Wait for it! Wait for it! Wait for it! Wait!”

I press the button.

@dorkylittleweirdo​ @midwestern-runner-five​ @runnerfiveready​ @running4chaos​ @poeticllamasofdestruction @pocketsizerudy

[staliasjeronica]

Thoughts on Dangerous Lies *Spoilers*

- CAMI IS LITERALLY THE CUTEST HUMAN BEING TO EVER EXIST!!!

- Katie and Adam are so sweet please-

- Also Cami in purple lighting? I think yes.

- The way I was just thinking of a Jeronica au where Veronica is a waitress who leaves on her break to go hang out with her boyfriend and comes back to a robbery and Jughead’s the detective/cop, and then I play it and they come back to a robbery I—

- ADAM TO THE FUCKING RESCUE DAMNNN THAT’S A MAN RIGHT THERE

- This just proves how amazing of an actress Cami is, Riverdale just holds her back. It’s the same kind of thing when Lili was cast in Hustlers. Riverdale writing is seriously holding back their potential and talent.

- “That’s not gonna happen, but sure.” I LOVE KATIE SO MUCH. RELATABLE CHARACTERS ARE THE BEST ASDFGHJKL;

- God I wish they’d let Veronica dress like this because while she always looks absolutely stunning in everything she wears, imagining Veronica growing out of the elite-looking lifestyle and wearing regular clothes would hit so fucking hard. The two times she’s worn jeans? Breathtaking.

- “But I’m hungry!” Adam whines, and then as the camera starts to focus on Katie you can see him pop in again UGH I LOVE ADAM AND KATIE’S RELATIONSHIP SO MUCH.

- Katie finding Leonard :( The emotion in her eyes PLEASE I’m about to cry

- You know what, any other movie probably would have made him take the money, while she didn’t (or the other way around) and have them lie about it behind their backs but this didn’t, they made it mutual and that’s so different. I like that.

- They’re right though. They (the company and the police) have to make sure the caretaker didn’t (accidentally or not) have a hand in the passing of the client.  It’s part of the reason why I’m afraid of becoming a caretaker for my mom like my family wants because what if something bad happens and it’s an accident and it’s my fault? It’s horrifying to think about but it’s reality.

- NOT ADAM GOING TO THE HOUSE WHILE THEY’RE INVESTIGATING TO MAKE SURE HE DIED NATURALLY… THIS LOOKS SO SUSPICIOUS 😭😭😭

- AND THEN HE FUCKING SAYS “HELLO” AS IF HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE…. OH BITCH HE JUST GOT KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT KSFAHDFK

- Katie getting angry as she should. That exact passion is exactly why they should let Veronica go off on both Betty and Archie

- “I’m just sick of being poor” FUCKING MOOD

- But now that they own the house… that means the money is theirs and there’s no reason to hide it. They found it in the house and it’s not illegal or anything. Yeah, it’s a lot of money but the only investigation would be about where Leonard got it.

- Adam wanting to immediately buy cars and shit instead of the right and adult thing like Katie does is such a big red flag. Like sure he MAY be kidding but he doesn’t seem like it. I wouldn’t put it past this movie to make him the secret bad guy or something.

- Adam is being wayyyyyy too eager… if he isn’t the bad guy he’s definitely going to fuck something up.

- Ooh this mystery of who called him and why… Riverdale’s mysteries could NEVER

- “Old man kicks the bucket and you move in?” I mean…. yeah…. that’s kinda what happens when someone gets a house from somebody’s will.

- Adam telling Katie not to get the lawyer involved…………………. mmhm that’s another red flag. Fuck he’s going to be the bad guy isn’t he.

- But they’re making him too sketchy… it’s way too obvious for it to be the husband.

- … IF ETHAN IS SOMEHOW ADAM I SWEAR—

- Ahh thanks Adam for contaminating her hand with probably stolen diamonds…

- Katie you’re not supposed to throw away medications you have to dispose of it at the pharmacy or whatever

- ADAM!!!! STOP!!!! SPENDING!!! MONEY!!!!

- WAIT SO THEY HAVEN’T CALLED THE COPS ABOUT A DEAD GUY AND STOLEN DIAMONDS?!

- MORALS VS. DESIRE… PLEASE LET KATIE’S MORALS WIN. It literally seems like she killed him when it’s obvious she didn’t please I don’t want my baby girl to go down for this!!! But I’m sad that it probably might be the husband smh… or maybe she’ll get a divorce for how he’s acting.

- OH BITCH………. RIP MR. CALVERN………. Why the FUCK was he there when he KNOWS they inherited the house/are living there???

- EW THE WAY THE SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC JUST FUCKING STOPPED OUT OF NOWHERE.

- “I’ll take care of it” Adam…… you dump the body WITH a backpack where it would be found….. Jesus Christ

- “We got plenty of travel money” YEAH STOLEN MONEY YOU FUCKING DUMBASS

- Knew that somehow Adam wasn’t going to make it to the end. Rip :( However again this is why Riverdale should let Veronica show emotion because she’s so fucking good at it!

- OMG FUCKING WAIT—THIS TWIST WAS SO FUCKING GOOD?!??!?! RIVERDALE COULD NEVER!!!!!

- Aww she’s pregnant 🥺🥺

- Wait so did she really not hear him say “the garden” or??? Also he was awful at hiding those diamonds sjfhajkdhfas

- Overall my thoughts on this movie is: I really loved it. Cami did amazingly well and all of the other actors were incredible and the way they work together showed greatly in the movie. The twist was actually really good, and I didn’t really see it coming. I mean of course like twenty seconds before the reveal I got it, but, still it was very entertaining and interesting. If I had to give it a rating it’d be 8 or 9/10

[themaddestofall]

Love is Mad (but so are we)

Against the damp moss and bulging tree roots, the sight of flickering purple fabric is unmistakable. That and the familiar voice calling out his name for the whole forest to hear. “Hatter! I know you can hear me! I swear on my pearls if you are hiding out here I will slay you myself!”

If it were up to him, he would stay in hiding forever, locked away without any sight of what life used to be. But he knows that would be impossible. She has questions about Betty. Of course she does. The girl’s voice is full of a fire that could burn down every tree around him times ten. 

“Hello Veronica,” stepping out from a patch of waist high tiger lilies, Jughead can see a brief look of surprise flash across the girl’s face. “What brings you all the way out to Witzend? Has Archibald run out of Pishsalver again?”

“Forsthe Pendleton Jones, have you been avoiding me?” Veronica places a manicured hand on her hip and shoots an accusing look towards the boy in front of her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“For Crims sake Jughead, don’t lie to me! I need somebody to finally tell me why everything has been weird around here!” 

Her tone leaves no room for argument, so after a few beats he gives up and sighs, “What’s going on Ronnie?” 

“The people of Underland are going completely bonkers Jug. Nobody has seen the White Queen in weeks and rumors are spreading of Cheryl taking over.” 

The words felt like a punch to the gut. A stab right into the area that he had been dancing around for weeks.”Well, the people obviously don’t know their Queen if they think she would allow the bloody big head to rule all by herself.”

“That’s so not the point!” Jughead can see the anger flash across her eyes as her heeled foot begins tapping on an uprooted log, “Almost two weeks ago Betty told Archie not to come into the castle until she told him otherwise. She hasn’t come out since then. We’re not even allowed through the gates!”

“And what about it? What am I supposed to be doing about it?” Turning back towards his cottage, Jughead tries to ignore the irritated sounds that come from Veronica’s direction.

“Because for all we know, you’re the last one to see Betty before she locked herself in the castle! What the hell happened between you two?”

“Nothing happened! Why do you assume that I did something wrong? Why is it automatically my fault?”

“I never said it was your fault! I don’t even know what happened! But the fact that you’re acting like this tells me that something happened!” Her footsteps aren’t far behind his and something tells him that she won’t be leaving anytime soon. “Seriously, whatever you two talked about, just tell me! It’s not like it’s the end of the world-”

“I told her I loved her!”

She stops dead in her tracks, mouth open slightly, brows knitted together, “...what?”

With another sigh, Jughead turns back to face the raven haired girl. “I told Betty that I loved her, and she kicked me out of the castle. She fucking hates me.”

A few moments pass that are filled solely with Jughead’s breathing and Veronica’s confused thinking. 

“Did you ever think that for a moment that she might feel the same about you?” Like flipping a switch, her angry stance is replaced with soft eyes and a kinder voice.

“I’m pretty sure if she felt the same she wouldn’t have yelled at me and then locked herself away.”

“Look, I know Betty better than anyone in Underland. I also know the connection that you two have, and I think you’re an idiot to think for even a minute that she could ever hate you.” She reaches a manicured finger out and brushes a stray piece of hair from his face. “I swear you two are blind sometimes.”

Jughead toys with the pointed edges of his hat before taking a deep breath, “What should I do? She’s made it pretty apparent that she needs time to think it out.”

“You know how Betty is, we can’t let her get trapped in her own mind. My advice? Go talk to her. Show her that you weren’t playing around and that you’re here to stay.”

“When did you get so wise, Ronnie?”

With a wink and one last smile, she flips her midnight hair over her shoulder before turning and swishing back the way they came. “Fairfarren Jughead! Go get our Elizabeth!”

Once she’s out of sight, Jughead glances around the garden for the telltale sight of shaggy fur, “Hot Dog! Get up bud.” The white sheepdog gets up from his spot near the edge of the flowers and trots over and stand beneath Jughead’s hand. “Lets go get our girl.” 

From her perch on the balcony, she can see over almost all of Underland. Her kingdom. Her people. She had never really wanted to be Queen, she didn’t see any good in Kings Queens and unavoidable tyranny. Or, that’s how things used to be. Alice and Penelope were the absolute worst people, and Underland was lucky to survive their joint rule. Now, things were different. With Cheryl acting as her right hand, along with her White Knight, her mundane bestie, and the Hatter, well...things were great. The citizens of Underland had never been better. Then Jughead Jones threw a wrench in the plan. Her eyes fall closed as she takes a deep breath of the misty air. “What in the world did I get myself into?”

Directly below her lies the courtyard. Winding pathways of stone walled in by waist high flowers and different shaped hedges. A fountain in the shape of a queen chess piece stands directly in the middle, looking over the marble arch architecture. The exact spot where a mere two weeks ago, Jughead had looked at her with twinkly eyes and poured his heart out. And she pushed him away. 

His hands were on either side of her face and she could feel his breath dancing across her nose. He looked like whatever he had to tell her was the most important thing in the world. She smiled at him then, silently analyzing every spot and divet in his face. 

“I love you, Betty Cooper.”

That, she had not expected. Not in the slightest.

His next words died on her ears as her heart pounding took over. Memories flashed through her mind, along with her mother’s voice, of all things. Everything was too loud for her to concentrate. 

“Get out,” the words were barely a whisper, but he heard them. He looked taken aback for a moment, but then she was pushing him away. “Get out!”

She swore she saw him cry. A few silent tears rolling down his cheek, but the next second he was gone, storming out of Marmoreal’s gates. 

Her mother used to tell her that love was futile. That a Queen’s purpose in life was to be feared and respected by everyone around her. That being a ruler was the only thing that mattered. Betty had met Jughead when they were just 8 years old. Other kids in Underland made fun of his hat, but she always thought it was cute. When they were teenagers, Alice’s rein made people hate and blame Betty for what their world had become. He was always there for her. And she kicked him out. 

Betty sighs out her breath and takes a look at the swirling sky. Shades of midnight blue are starting to take over the golden rays of the sun. She knows she needs to stop feeling so sorry for herself, but her mind hasn’t stopped racing since that night, filled with thoughts of the past and what the future could be. Past the gates of Marmoreal lies the forest towards Witzend, and just within those borders sits the Hatter’s Cottage. She could be there in under 5 minutes, but her feet seem to be glued to their spot. 

There’s a simple answer to her predicament. Tell him you feel the same, tell him the truth for once. And yet…

Before she can process that thought, her eyes catch something shifting through the thick trees. As if by pure magic, by the edge of the forest a tall figure of a man followed by a small bouncing dog comes into view. Betty sneaks a glance to the far corner of the estate, to a rather large cabin where Veronica is no doubt smirking to herself in enjoyment. Her heart swells as Jughead’s figure gets clearer and clearer.

“Juggie!” She yells into the air, his head jerking up in surprise. She doesn’t give him much time to react before she’s running back inside and down to the first floor. Bursting through the doors, she sees him standing there, ever present hat and goofy grin. 

This time, her head isn't full of the sound of her mother’s voice. This time, she’s the one crying. This time, she doesn’t push him away, she runs right into his arms.