#despite the advice of playing the first two games I’ve just dived headfirst into this one and I am loving it

[bitethedevil]

if anything bad happens to my little elf dude and his boyfriend Dorian, I will kill everyone and then throw myself off something tall

[arotechno]

Jughead (2015), Issues 9-11: Discussion and Commentary

This brings us to the first arc written by Ryan North, who saw that the aroace Jughead train had left the station and simply could not resist tagging along for the ride. If you’ve followed anything about Jughead as a character at all, then you’ve probably seen many screenshots from these three issues before. It’s the Sabrina arc (that’s right, as in the teenage witch)!

I have a lot of analysis at the end of this one, so buckle up!

The gang ends up at Pop’s, as usual, where Jughead meets the shop’s new mascot, a talking burger lady. Jughead is, unsurprisingly, thrown off his game by this. After all, burgers are his one true love, but girls? He doesn’t really have an interest in them. It’s a confusing moment for him, and when his friends witness this, well… they assume he’s got a crush on her.

This is an iconic page in the “aro Jughead” canon. Here we have Betty trying really hard to be a good friend and doing what in her mind is the best for him, trying to help him through what she and the others perceive as his first crush. Jughead, meanwhile, is diving headfirst into a spiral of confusion (and later, discomfort) at the idea of having any sort of interest in another person.

I want to give my utmost respect to Ryan North for explicitly having Jughead say that he doesn’t get crushes. It’s not the only time that North does this during this arc, and I think it makes all the difference between making this awkward and relatable rather than making it seem like Jughead is being stripped of or “cured” of being aro.

Betty pushes Jughead to talk to Sabrina (the burger lady—it’s Sabrina), and after a while of running into each other day in and day out as Jughead frequents Pop’s on a regular basis, they strike up a friendship. Jughead has gotten what he wanted—to be friends with the cool burger lady—and he seems genuinely satisfied.

…But unfortunately, things do not go as planned for Jughead. The next time they see each other, Sabrina asks Jughead out. And Jughead, in true stereotypical oblivious aro fashion, agrees, without realizing until it is much, much too late that what he has just agreed to is a date. Like, a real date.

If you think about it, Jughead has probably never been asked on a real date before. And this is something I ABSOLUTELY would have done (and may still do today, if I’m completely honest with myself) as a teenager. Jughead’s immediate regret is so palpable here, and so relatable to me as an aromantic.

In his panic, Jughead turns to his friends for help. They are… not helpful. They’re trying to be helpful, sure, but whereas Jughead doesn’t really seem to want to go through with this at all, his friends are more set on giving him romantic advice (with varying degrees of usefulness). Jughead really has to go out of his way to defend himself and insists on multiple occasions that he thinks the girl in the burger costume is cool and interesting, but that he doesn’t like-like her, he doesn’t even really know her!

Unfortunately for Jughead, he ends up going on the date. And who does he call for help? His only other openly queer friend (I say openly because let’s be real with ourselves, none of those kids are cishet), Kevin Keller.

And okay, this scene with Kevin is genuinely kind of funny. You get the impression that Kevin has had a lot of practice dealing with straight bullshit, and that he’s more than a little disappointed that Jughead’s “big emergency” turned out to be something this totally mundane and not worth his time.

Ultimately, Kevin is also super not helpful, even after Jughead steals his phone in an attempt to get him to come to the table and diffuse the awkward situation Jughead has found himself in. So Jughead resorts to what I can only assume is plan Z, which is to call Archie for backup.

Only semi-related, I really love the way Ryan North writes conversations between these two. It just feels really genuine and believable. And anyway, I don’t know what Jughead was expecting, but resident himbo Archie Andrews is of no help to him, and only ends up making things a hell of a lot worse.

This leads to Sabrina rushing off to the bathroom and casting multiple spells to try to get Jughead to at least play along, if not outright fall in love with her, all of which fail spectacularly and only end up making her far angrier with him. I don’t blame her for being upset—the date was a total disaster, and right at the moment Jughead was about to be honest with her, Archie showed up and made things worse. Sabrina storms out, and vows that she’ll get revenge on Jughead for this, somehow.

All of Sabrina’s subsequent spells on Jughead also backfire. She tries to make him fail his classes, and he passes with flying colors; she tries to make him spend the whole day with resident asshole Reggie, but he ends up befriending him against all odds. She even ends up unleashing a giant eldritch horror by accident, and—well, that’s not important.

In the end, Jughead decides to make things right. He never meant to hurt Sabrina, and she seems to be in a tough spot, having just moved to town, so he brings her some food as a peace offering and explains what really happened. And Sabrina is… surprisingly receptive, in fact more receptive than Jughead’s friends were when he came to them for help, despite the fact that this is something they should already understand about him. Being upset with Jughead wasn’t doing her any favors, so Sabrina already seems to be at peace with what happened and is more than willing to forgive him and be his friend despite all that transpired between them.

This is a really great scene. There’s a nuance to it—the way Jughead acted on their date was unfair, both to Sabrina and to himself. He needed to be honest from the beginning, but instead, he just kept trying to escape. At the same time, Sabrina gets it, and it wasn’t very cool of her to try to use magic to get what she wanted, either (not that Jughead knows she did that).

Jughead helps Sabrina re-enroll in her old school and quit her job at Pop’s to move back in with her aunts, so that she can live out the rest of her teenage years the way she’s supposed to. Afterwards, Sabrina and Jughead both seem really happy, and thus volume two ends on a positive, quiet note.

I really like this arc, for the reasons I’ve already stated and more. It’s funny and awkward and endearing (I say that a lot about this series, don’t I?), and it portrays a realistic and relatable aromantic problem without it being aboutaromanticism. It’s more about Jughead being honest about his feelings and making a new friend than about Jughead being aro, even though that contextualizes the situation. A great deal of the series is about that—Jughead being honest with himself and others. In the first arc, it’s Jughead shaking off a persona of apathy. In the second, it’s Jughead being honest with Archie about their friendship and the way Archie’s behavior has been making him feel. Here, it’s about Jughead being honest about who he is at his core, and accepting it about himself—and Sabrina accepts it, too, no questions asked. Even if he never says “I’m aromantic,” the sentiment is there plain as day, and it’s a refreshing beat for the story to land on.

That said, I do have a bone to pick with this arc. There’s a line in the sand here between Zdarsky and North. In the last arc, we saw Zdarsky portray that really subtle but meaningful interaction between Archie and Jughead, in which Archie seems not only keenly aware of Jughead being aromantic—even without the word—but also tacitly supportive of him, such that he knows immediately when he’s crossed a line. Here, we see Ryan North take a bit of a step back from that, such that Archie may be aware of Jughead’s orientation but seems way too quick to assume all that’s changed the moment there’s even a sliver of possibility that Jughead has a crush. That’s the reality of having different writers stepping in to interpret the same characters in loosely connected stories like this, but it still bothers me. I prefer Zdarsky’s style of storytelling in general, but in particular I also prefer his portrayal of Archie, as much as Ryan North’s on-the-nose aro moments and undying love for Reggie make me very happy. As a whole, nobody ever stops to ask Jughead what he wants, they only tell him what they think Sabrina wants. Jughead says so himself:

I suppose one could make the argument that Jughead’s friends, or even Jughead himself, are only really aware of the asexual bit (if at all—for all we know Veronica and Reggie have no idea, for example) and that’s why they don’t only never mention aromanticism but also sometimes seem ignorant of it. It’s possible that the aro side of Jughead’s orientation is still something he doesn’t have the words for, despite it being a truth he knows about himself, and in fact I think that would have been an interesting angle to take, had this series continued beyond 15 issues. But what I have an issue with isn’t so much the fact that Jughead’s friends are unhelpful (because let’s be real, sadly a lot of us have been there), but the fact that never are they asked to apologize for pushing him to do something he so clearly didn’t want to do. Whether he or they know he’s aromantic or not, he was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of going on this date—and not just due to a lack of experience. I would have liked it had Archie, or Betty, or Kevin apologized, or even once asked him what he really wanted. Betty comes the closest, by talking it out with him in the first place, but even she still earnestly pushes him to go through with the date anyway.

Anyway, there are two arcs left for me to discuss, and frankly I’m not as enthused by either of them as I was for these past three, for a variety of reasons. The Ryan North train continues for one more arc, and then it’s on to Mark Waid and Ian Flynn’s big finish. Those two updates might come a little slower. Until then, I was going to include a compilation of Jughead looking uncomfortable, but I've only got one image slot left thanks to tumblr, so instead I leave you with this:

Same, Jughead. Huge same.

[toosicktoocare]

prompt:  You'll write for 9-1-1? *heart eyes* If this prompt ever speaks to you, I'd love to see Buck just throwing himself into work after he gets back onto the squad, trying to prove himself, and just burning himself out either into total exhaustion or just a really bad illness and either collapsing or ending up with a really bad fever. Maybe Eddie tries to tell him to take it easy, and then watches as Buck completely ignores the advice?

First fic for 9-1-1!

Set when Buck is back after all the lawyer BS that we don’t talk about and when everyone is okay with him again.

Eddie’s slipping his boots on, working in time with the loud alarm ringing overhead, yet his focus is pulled toward Buck, or rather, the slight tremble of Buck’s hands as the latter works into his own gear.

Buck’s been back for a few weeks now, the initial tension has faded away to their familiar routine, and he’s been diving headfirst into his work, taking each call with an almost desperate passion that’s got Eddie worried, to say the least.

He’s called Buck out after two days of Buck working himself into the ground, and Buck fought against his concern then, telling him he has to make up for lost time, to prove himself to Bobby, to make things right again,

Well, Eddie thinks as he gets to his feet, things have been right, and he’s frankly concerned that Buck’s going to drop. He’s tired of watching Buck act like this. “Hey, Buck? You okay?”

Buck turns to him, and despite his poor pallor, despite the small red flush to his cheeks, he smiles wide, energy pouring from his eyes, threatening to suck Eddie in if he stares too long. “Yeah, man! I’m just ready to get out there!”

Eddie casts a long gaze back to Buck’s hands, frowning deeply at the trembling. “Yeah,” he draws out, almost distracted, “just... take it easy, okay? You don’t look so hot.” He pulls his gaze back to Buck’s, eyes rolling on instinct at the devious grin that creeps at Buck’s lips.

“I thought you said I always look hot.”

Eddie turns toward the door with a deep sigh, Buck hot on his his heels. “That was one time, and I only said it because you were literally drowning in your own pity at the hospital.” Buck claps a hand to his shoulder, falling into pace with him, and he cocks a brow.

“Yeah,” he starts, leaning forward, “but you still said it.”

Eddie slaps Buck’s hand away, ignoring the loud laughter that follows, and he hoists himself up into the firetruck, slipping his headset on and listening as Bobby barks out the situation.

It’s a house fire, a two story house fire to be specific, and Eddie and Buck are ordered to enter and rescue when they arrive after the wife of the house informs through gasping sobs and coughs that her son is trapped on the second floor with her husband. For a brief moment, Eddie considers asking Bobby if he can go about the rescue alone, but Buck’s already slamming a ladder against the side of the house and racing up it with impressive speed. Bobby looks at him, eyes narrow, stern, yet patient, but Eddie only breaks the gaze and starts up the ladder after Buck.

“Move away from the window!”

Eddie looks up, only a few rungs behind Buck, to see Buck waving to the father and son, and once their clear, he lifts his arm, preparing to swing his elbow against the window.

“Buck, wait!”

“Now’s not really a good time, Eddie!”

Eddie closes the distance, and it takes some careful maneuvering until he’s got one foot planted on the same run Buck’s standing on, and he’s pulling himself up until he’s level with Buck. “The blood thinners, Buck. What if you cut yourself?” He keeps his gaze sharp, unyielding, and Buck gives in with a wave of the hand.

“Fine, Superman, have at it.”

Eddie slams his elbow into the window until the glass cracks and breaks against the force, and he’s quick but careful to make sure there’s no jagged shards sticking out. Buck’s got one hand on a rung above them and the other wrapped around Eddie’s waist to keep him steady, and the second the last of the glass hits the floor and they’re hit with waves of smoke, they fall into quick action.

Eddie enters the room first with Buck close behind. The two do a quick survey of their surroundings, gauging how long they have, before they move to the victims.

“Is anyone hurt?”

“I have some burns on my arm, but otherwise, we’re okay.”

Eddie’s eyes find the burns on the man’s arm, frowning at the black and red strips of burned skin, but then Buck’s moving past him to the kid.

“Eddie, we’re running out of time. We gotta move.”

He nods, watching as Buck crouches down in front of the kid, and he doesn’t miss the way Buck staggers faintly, briefly, for just a breath of a moment, one hand reaching out to the floor to steady himself.

“What’s your name?”

“Buck,” Eddie interrupts and starts toward him, “let me carry him--”

“--I’ve got this, Eddie! Help the father!”

Eddie watches as the kid, Benjamin, puts all of his trust into Buck and climbs onto Buck’s back, and he keeps his focus heavy on the two as Buck quickly gets to his feet, the unsteadiness from before replaced with quick determination.

“Eddie, let’s go!”

Buck’s voice snaps him out of his brief trance, and he nods and turns back toward the father. “Can you climb down a ladder with that arm?”

The father nods, and Eddie decides to go with is gut and not question the shaky hesitation in the father’s movements. He urges the father onto the ladder with a promise that everything will be fine, and then he starts down the ladder himself. He’s six rungs down when a loud explosion erupts from the open window. Buck was right, he thinks. They were definitely cutting it close with this one.

With the family safe, Bobby urges Eddie and Buck to get checked out right quick for potential smoke inhalation, but Buck declines, slapping a hand to Bobby’s shoulder.

“I’m good, Cap.” He shoots a smile to Eddie and Bobby, his face sporting a few smoke smudges, and Eddie’s gut twists uncomfortably, but he still nods, going along with Buck’s mood.

“Same, Cap. We weren’t in there long.” He wants to press Bobby, to have Bobby force Buck to get checked out because Eddie just knows something’s wrong with him, but Buck’s acting normal, as if his hands weren’t shaking before, as if he didn’t slightly stagger a few minutes ago, so he drops it, and Bobby doesn’t press either further.

“Fine, but I’m only saying fine because I’m exhausted, and because I know you both know to get checked out if you need it.” Bobby’s eyes linger on Buck, and Buck nods, almost eagerly, and offers a mock salute.

“Of course, Cap!” Buck starts back to the truck, and Eddie and Bobby follow, watching as Buck talks animatedly with Chimney and Hen.

“He seems to be doing a lot better,” Bobby’s comment sounds sincere to Eddie, fond even, and Eddie offers a quiet hum.

“I don’t know, Bobby. Don’t you think he’s pushing himself a little too hard?”

Bobby claps a hand to Eddie’s shoulder, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “It’s Buck. He doesn’t know how to pace himself.”

Bobby’s words don’t exactly ease Eddie’s concern, and the worry that’s forming a pit in his stomach remains on the ride back to the station, only growing despite Buck’s seemingly normal demeanor.

“Hey,” he starts as he and Buck are changing for the day. “Why don’t you come over? Christopher is dying to see you.” It’s not a lie exactly, but it’s not the entire truth either. Eddie wants to keep an eye on Buck, if only just for a little bit, just to see if Buck is really okay or not.

Eddie picks up on Buck’s hesitation by the slight tension in Buck’s shoulders, but then Buck grabs his bag off the floor and shoots a wide smile.

“Sure, man! I’d love to see Christopher!”

They go back in Eddie’s truck, leaving Buck’s jeep at the station, and Eddie’s hyper-focused on how Buck can’t seem to sit still, crossing and uncrossing his arms every few seconds, how Buck’s clearing his throat a lot, how Buck will occasionally reach up to rub at his temples.

When they get to Eddie’s abulea’s house to pick up Christopher, Eddie puts the truck in park, but he makes no motion to get out. He turns to Buck, who’s frowning questioningly at him.

“What’s up, man?”

“Are you okay?” It’s the second time today he’s asked this, and to his surprise, Buck’s smile is softer, tired, but still there.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Just pretty tired.”

Eddie’s about to reassure that he’ll make sure Christopher doesn’t keep him up too late, but his thoughts clip off when he hears Christopher yelling for him. He pulls his gaze from Buck to see his abuela helping Christopher down the steps, and he hops out of the truck and rushes too him, chasing the fond relief that swells in his chest every night when he gets to pick up his kid.

“Chris! Hey, bud!” He scoops him up into a hug while offering his thanks to his abuela.

“Is that Buck?” Christopher is looking over Eddie’s shoulder to the truck. “Is he going to hang out with me?”

“He sure is!” Eddie takes him to the truck and gets him settled into the back seat with Chris gushing to Buck about all of the cool and fun things they are going to do tonight the entire time.

The ride back to his house is similar, with Buck and Christopher chatting the whole way. Eddie’s impressed with Buck’s ability to mask his fatigue in front of Christopher, and he stays impressed when they get to his house and get inside and when Christopher pulls Buck to the living room TV to play some games.

“Not too long, Chris,” Eddie starts, leaning against the wall as Buck sets up a game. “Buck’s pretty tired, and you have school tomorrow.”

Christopher smiles at him. “Just a few games,” he promises, and Eddie finds Buck’s gaze, the two sharing a silent conversation, before he nods and leaves to clean up the kitchen.

He’s moved onto Christopher’s room, gathering dirty laundry, when he hears a loud thud. He freezes, heart fluttering to stop, but then he hears Christopher’s voice, a crying shout of desperation.

“Buck!”

His heartbeat comes back hard and fast, hammering against his rib cage almost painfully, and he drops the piles of clothes in his arms and races out of Christopher’s room, whipping down the small hallway until he’s skidding into the living room.

Buck’s unconscious on the floor, a pile of games fallen to the floor close to his hand, and Christopher’s crying and stumbling toward him.

“I just asked if we could change the game,” Christopher cries. “And he just fell!”

Eddie allows himself exactly four seconds of pure panic before he drops to the floor beside Buck, swapping into medical mode within the blink of an eye. His hand flies to Buck’s neck to check for a pulse, and it’s there, thankfully, but it’s racing, quick, fluttering heartbeats against his fingertips, but more concerning is the almost burning heat that coats his fingers. Frowning, he moves his hand to Buck’s forehead, and the heat that coats his palm is alarming. His cool touch brings Buck back, and Eddie swallows back the lump in his throat.

“Hey, Buck, can you hear me?”

Buck groans, his flushed, sweaty face pinched in discomfort, but his eyes don’t open, and Eddie’s muscles tense under a weight of desperation.

“Evan,” he pushes, lightly slapping Buck’s cheek, and Buck’s eyes finally flutter open, crystal blue eyes glassy and colored in confusion.

“...Eddie?” Buck’s voice sounds rough, pained, and the small usage is enough to have him coughing harshly.

Eddie helps him into a sitting position, assessing the back of Buck’s head the entire way up. There doesn’t appear to be any further injuries, so that’s one less thing to worry about for now.

“Buck! Buck! Buck!”

Christopher’s sobbing beside them, and before Eddie can even begin to reassure him, Buck’s calling out in between ragged coughs.

“It’s okay... Chris... I’m... totally...” he pauses, his coughing dying down, “fine!” He forces a smile that’s so wide, it’s believable, and Christopher’s sobbing fades to light sniffling.

“You promise?”

Christopher’s small words grip at Eddie’s heart, so he can only imagine how Buck’s taking it, but Buck smiles impossibly wider, so genuine that almost Eddie believes it, and he makes to get to his feet. Eddie wants to protest, but he understands, so he helps Buck up, keeping a steady arm around his waist, and Buck throws both arms out.

“I promise!”

Christopher seems hesitant to accept it, but he does, and Eddie makes quick work of guiding Buck to the couch and getting Christopher ready for bed. He’s tucking Christopher in when the latter blinks up at him, eyes still wet.

“Is Buck really okay?”

Eddie doesn’t know. The fever feels bad, potentially hospital level bad, and he doesn’t want to lie to his son, but he also doesn’t want Christopher to fall into a second meltdown.

“He will be,” he opts for. “He’s just a little sick, and you can help him get better by getting a full night’s sleep so he doesn’t stay up worrying about you. Okay?”

Christopher’s a helper by nature, so he quickly obliges, squeezing his eyes shut. Eddie drops a light kiss to his forehead before he quietly leaves the room. He doesn’t mean to storm into the living room, but he’s chasing a hot flash of anger that’s beating with his heart, so he does, stopping before the couch where Buck is wrapped up in a throw blanket, shaking and coughing lightly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Eddie spits out, keeping his voice hushed but harsh. “You’ve been pushing yourself into the ground for weeks! I don’t get it! You don’t have to prove anything to anyone! We all know that you’re a good firefighter, Buck, but right now, you’re acting like a damn idiot who...”

His words fall short. Buck’s eyes are watering, and it hits Eddie’s heart like a repeated knife stab. He gently sits down on the edge of the coffee table, anger fading away to pulsing concern. “Talk to me, Evan.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck starts, voice cracking. “I just... feel like I have so much catching up to do.” He swallows back a small gasping sob as tears begin to spill down his burning cheeks. “I started feeling like shit about a week ago, but I couldn’t stop. I lost five months, Eddie, and I just... I needed to keep pushing through.” He’s crying fully now, shaking just as hard, looking down to the floor, and Eddie shakes his head and breathes out a trembling sigh.

“Hey,” he leans forward, wrapping careful fingers around Buck’s chin to guide his gaze back up to him. The heat somehow feels worse than before, but he needs to address one thing at a time. “It’s okay. Well, it’s not, but, listen, you don’t need to push through anything. We aren’t going to think any less of you if you have to take a break because you’re sick. You have to focus on you first.”

Buck nods, and Eddie makes a mental note to address this when Buck isn’t burning with fever, to make sure that Buck fully understand, and his face pulls into soft sympathy at Buck’s sniffling and shivering, at Buck trying to pull the small blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.

“Let’s get you to bed--”

“--you don’t have to. Can you just drive me back to my jeep?”

Eddie’s gaze goes sharp, narrow. “No,” he says flatly, leaving no room for argument, and Buck doesn’t press further, a testament to how bad he must be truly feeling.

Eddie helps Buck to his room, helps him change into some of Eddie’s clothes, and gets him to take some Ibuprofen and water before lying down. Buck’s quietly compliant the entire time, and Eddie hates it. He wants to hear Buck’s snarky comments, Buck’s voice, just anything other than the quiet coughs.

He grabs the thermometer from the bathroom, and Buck doesn’t even try to fight him when he holds it up to him. The reading is bad, 103.8 degrees Fahrenheit, and Eddie has every instinct to wake Christopher up and drive their asses to the closest hospital, but Buck, despite his pounding head, can read Eddie’s features like an open book.

“No hospitals,” Buck says quietly.

“Buck,” Eddie starts, looking down at the reading again. “I don’t like this fever.”

“Me either,” Buck says, voicing his own concern for the first time, “but I’ve spent too much time in the hospital over the last few months, and I really don’t want to go back.”

“You have one day to get this fever down,” Eddie decides, hesitance coloring his tone, “one day, Buck, you hear me? If you’re this bad by tomorrow night, we’re going.”

“Got it,” Buck mutters before weakly grabbing at the blanket, tugging it up to his chin. “Shit,” he curses, shivering. “I’m freezing.”

Eddie bites back sarcasm because Buck looks generally miserable. Instead, he slips his shoes off and climbs into bed beside Buck.

“Eddie, what are you--”

“Roll onto your side,” Eddie orders quietly, and Buck complies, but he’s frowning the entire time.

Eddie presses his chest to Buck’s back and wraps a steady arm around him, pulling him close.

“Are you... are you spooning me?”

It’s the first time in an hour that Eddie’s heard Buck’s voice so clear, so animated, and he rolls his eyes. “Yes, but only for a little while because I don’t want you to overheat. Now shut up, and go to sleep.”