The thing about Friends is that the three girls are like the only white women I would give it all up for. But for the guys. You see, they're all dykes to me but for different reasons. With Ross i genuinely have to pretend he came from the Bottoms 2023 school for unloveable insane ugly and untalented dykes to find him enjoyable, then pretend all his sexist moments fall under "he would not fucking say that". Otherwise i will start chomping leg the moment he comes on screen. If Ross was a dyke he would be so PJ Bottoms 2023 coded. All the characters have moments where they are terrible but there is something about his villainy that is particularly insufferable. He is a uhaul lesbian. He is an evil dyke, but a dyke nonetheless. With Joey, he's less of a lesbian himself and more of a lesbians pet freak. A sopping wet little guy. He is my equivalent to gay men’s relationship to lady Gaga. Early Joey is so beautiful its just fun for me to pretend he is butch coded, but tragically cast as a straight male due to the hayes code. I yearn for him in his floppy hair era the way old dykes from yore yearn for Calamity Jane. Chandler on the other hand i just genuinely can't unsee as a fagdyke. I know the homophobic jokes at his expense and at his dad are awful but but they’re like. So awful that they loop back around to feeling like home to me. The episode where they make fun of him for kissing a guy makes me so mad. As if he isn’t a dyke I’d watch out for. As if a lesbian and a twink who wanna hook up with him aren’t fighting over what his gender is as we speak. Its not a headcanon thats just who he is to me now. I watch every scene genuinely no longer able to see him as a cisgender man. He is so much more to me. Ignore that this is the straightest show of all time and play along w me for one sec on my egg Chandler journey

Headcanons of stuff that happened in my Fallout 3 story

1. When my Lone Wanderer enters Rivet City and sees Dr Li for the first time, Dr Li doesn’t comment on the Wanderer’s likeness to James. Instead, she gasps, shocked as she thinks she’s seeing a ghost and she shouts “Catherine!?” Believing for a moment that her old colleague is alive. My Lone is visibly confused until Dr Li calms herself down and she says she looks just like her mother, and they proceed to talk about James. I just think with a male lone wanderer her thinking he looks like James makes sense, but for a female LW, it makes more sense for Dr Li to say she bears a resemblance to Catherine.

2. In the Tranquil Lane (Or whatever the simulation is called) as soon as my Lone enters the pre-war realm James instantly recognises his daughter. His little girl, 10 years old once more. He thinks it’s something in the simulation trying to trick him, the mad scientist’s way of tormenting him. The dog starts to whine and cry a bit. It’s tough for James to see his little girl at an age when everything seemed so simple.

3. James has always been wary of Butch. He doesn’t think the boy is a bad kid, but he has a rocky home life. And James knows that can lead to tumultuous and erratic behaviour. So the fact that Butch has a switchblade genuinely makes him worried for his daughter’s safety and other Vault dwellers. One night, he finds a drunk 17-year-old Butch stumbling about angrily. James tries to calm him down but Butch goes for his blade, and it's here that Jame’s Wastelander side comes out because next thing James has Butch’s arm bent and pressed against his own back and the switchblade has been snatched and James is holding it tightly while he’s restraining Butch. It all happened so fast and James didn’t even think about what he was doing, it was just instinct. Butch remembers that moment and forever wondered where the hell the old man learnt such moves being stuck in the vault. Obviously, things become clearer in later years...They never talked about it.

4. Butch has an obsession with his hair. Will spend hours if he must getting it just right. He doesn’t just wake up like this you know!

5. Butch meeting James Hargrave? Ouch. Yeah, Butch makes sure him and Lone talk to James whenever they’re in Rivet City. He looks out for the kid and Butch rents our a constant room in Rivet City’s hotel so James can go there if he needs an escape.

6. In fact, because you meet Butch in the Muddy Rudder I believe he adopted his mom’s drinking habits but upon meeting James and his mother Tammy as well as some encouragement from my Lone Butch drops alcohol and only ever has some if he’s celebrating. He won’t become his mother.

7. Amata never really dates anyone. Her father is really controlling; I mean he goes into all of her doctor appointments as stated by James in his terminal so she has zero privacy but if we get into the mindset of the other vault dwellers...Alfonse is a bully, a bully who is very protective of his daughter. Dating Amata is just a bad idea, she’s pretty and sweet but no one can get over that looming shadow that is the Overseer that hangs over her. 

8. The only reason the Tunnel Snakes pick on Amata is because of Wally. Wally has a huge crush on Amata but because his mates keep telling him “Dating Almodovar is a terrible idea,” and they call her fat and daddy’s little girl, it hinders his intention to ever ask her out. I mean, Butch and co are arseholes anyway in their teenage years so they pick on anyone but Butch has his rivalry with Lone, Amata doesn’t really cross his mind. Wally picks on her simply because he likes her and so he’s the one that instigates any bullying towards her. The difference between him and Butch is that Wally is a bit more...abusive. He’s grown up with fucking EVIL men in his life and it’s the only way he knows how. It ain’t good.

9. The Lone Wanderer CRINGES during the holotape recording found in her father’s old office in the Project Purity building. Yeah, it’s sweet but she’s hearing the moment before her father and her mother have sex it’s WEIRD.

10. Dr Li has to drag and slap The Lone Wanderer when James dies because she just won’t move.

11. Speaking of Dr Li, she stays with Lone and looks out for her. It’s painful for Li to see the kid of Catherine and James, looking at Lone she can’t help but be reminded of them. When Lone ‘Dies’ completing Project Purity Dr Li is fucking OUT of there. She leaves the Capital Wasteland for good. The woman needs a break.

12. When Lone fixes the pipes in Megaton she sits on Charon’s shoulders so she doesn't have to climb and break her neck scouring the crooked buildings and pipes trying to get to the leaky ones.

13. When Lone ‘dies’ Charon and Butch stay together. It’s kinda like “Well...we only have each other know I guess?” Like it's just them clinging to some familiarity after Lone ‘dies’. But its this period where the two go from indifferent strangers only connected through another person to genuine buddies.

14. I don’t believe for A SECOND that BITCH DELORIA walked to the other end of the fucking Captial Wasteland utterly unharmed. like, Rivet City is fucking FAR from Vault 101. I got my ass beat by a lady chilling in her hoodie in a shitty house and got chewed up by an ant just on the outskirts of Megaton! You can’t sell me the idea that this twink straight outta the vault wandered MILES AND MILES through Super Mutant infested deserts and city ruins to Rivet City without a scratch. Don’t be stupid Bethesda! Butch Deloria walked out the Vault WITH the Lone Wanderer where they came to an agreement.

15. The Agreement was that Lone would escort Butch to Rivet City after he complains non-stop about what a shit hole Megaton was, and on the way, she’ll teach him how to survive. After that? they’ll never see each other again. Obviously, this plan goes wrong because of...well. Enemies to lovers and 19 looks good on Butch Deloria and my Lone Wanderer.

15. Charon enters the irradiated chamber where James died so that he can give Lone a proper burial for her dad. Dr Li reveals they buried Catherine near the water at Jefferson Memorial so they bury him next to her.

16. Amata and my Lone Wanderer DO NOT end on good terms and this stems from my own reaction the first time I finished Trouble on the Homefront. I killed Alfonse during the beginning and you can’t talk down Alan Mack so I get where she’s coming from, my Lone is the Overseer killer and she’s dangerous as well as a tad bit unstable but I was MAD. I was so pissed off that she called me all the way out the 101, didn’t even ask how I was or what I had been through and then begs me to solve their shit out only for her first order as Overseer to boot me out! I lost my dad and now you’re kicking me out a SECOND TIME?! Fuck you Amata.

17. Personally, when Jonas died I took his glasses and when I got a house in Megaton I kept them on my desk. As a little thing to remember the sweetest guy in Vault 101 who did not deserve it. So yeah, my Lone does that.

Tales of the Sculptor: Origins

If you passed me on the street, you'd probably not remember who I was. Not because I would make you forget, but because I look so average. I'm not attractive or ugly. I'm not skinny, buff, or fat. I'm some where in between. I wasn't gifted with insane intellectual, creative, or athletic abilities. I was just another face in the crowd.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to be special and I knew I could have it much worse. But, everything change once I developed my abilities. You see, I can change another person's body, but never my own. Bodies becomes clay in my hands and I transform them. I've always tried to use these powers for good. I have help people gain or regain control over their lives. But, every time there is a consequence. The person I transformed gets a part of their personality changed. This has lead to some interesting situations, but also some terrible problems.

In my travels, I have meet others like me. People who have been gifted with transformation and shifting abilities. Whether they be mad scientist, magic users, cursed, or genetically gifted, these individuals all had a unique way of using their powers. Although there has been many people who also used their powers for good, I have witnessed many evil acts done by some with these abilities. And, Now I think I have committed one these horrible acts. I think I have made a mistake.

In these last days, I can only reflect on my journey and how I ended up here. I can only hope who ever reads this collection can find some understanding to what I did and why I did it. So, I guess now it's time to start from the beginning. How I discovered my power and the first person I changed, my origin story.

I discovered these abilities, when I was 18. I had just graduated high school, and decided not to immediately go to college. I had no plans for my life, so wasting money going to college without having a goal seemed like a bad idea. Instead, I went to work and looked for inspiration in the real world. I was free to explore who I was ... well almost. As fate would have it, someone else decided to not seek the college route. My bully, Bruce Mathews, throughout my whole educational life.

In high school, Bruce was the quarterback of the high school football team. He was insanely attractive. His dark hair was perfectly styled. His jawline was chiseled perfectly. His blue eyes stared right into your soul. You could say, I was attracted to him. I mean who wasn't. But he made everyday a living hell. And those feelings of love turn to fear, sadness, and confusion.

To the outside world, he was mister perfect. The whole school was on his side. His body was ripped from his sports workouts. His arms popped with muscle. His legs where made of pure power. His chest looked good, as his pecs strained against his shirt. He was the only person at the school with an 8 pack. He had the body of a god. The girls loved him. The guys wanted to be him. And, the staff/teachers made sure he was taken care of.

He had the power to make or break your social life. If he hated you, you would become an outcast. Name calling and verbal put downs where very common to these poor victims. But, I had it the worst. I was his number one target. As a result, I got the honor of also getting my ass kicked, regularly, by him and the rest of the football team. This ugly side of him ended up getting the better of him, when he decided to drink and drive. He got into a car accident by swerving into a store, in the middle of the night. As a result, he lost his scholarship, got rejected from his college, spent some time in jail, and was indebted into paying for the damages. So ... yeah karma got him. But, it didn't help me. Because now he was still around and even angrier.

I was walking back home, through some old railroad tracks. When I saw Bruce sitting on a log and drinking from a bottle. I quickly looked away from him and start walking past him. But, he got up and walked to me. He was wearing a muscle shirt and his muscular arms were on full display. His chest was rock hard. And, the tight muscle shirt outlined his abs. He grabbed me and pulled me up to his face. His breath smelled like alcohol.

"What the fuck you looking at fag!" He yelled as he pushed me to the floor. He then got on top of me and used his whole weight to pin me down. With the weight of the muscled jock on me it was becoming harder to breathe. With the flexing of his arms, he began punching me. The first few hit my chest and arms. Immediately, I felt an intense pain. And, I didn't know how much more I could have took. Then out of nowhere one hit my face and my eye sight went black for a second. I was completely left dazed. (He is going to kill) I thought to myself.

With a surge of adrenaline, I was able to free my arms. As, he aimed to punch me again, I grabbed his arm. I tried to talk to him, but only disoriented mumbling noises come out of my mouth. Meanwhile he kept drunkenly cursing at me. I felt myself losing the tug of war with his arm, as one of my hands braced his forearm and my other hand cupped his bicep. Suddenly, I felt less force being used to pull away from me. And his rock hard arms start to feel soft and squishy. Suddenly his whole arm slipped out of my grasp.

We both look at his arm, now it was stick thin. The mountain-like bicep was gone. The sturdy forearm was weak a fragile. Even his hand became smaller. It looked deformed on the rest of his big muscular body. "What the fuck did you do ... to me?" He yelled and then he decided to punch me with his other arm. Again, I grabbed it. And another tug of war occurred, with the same results and sensations.

He got off me and stumbled to the ground. I used that as my chance to flee. But, I looked back to see his eye turning red, with tears, as he examined his new arms. Still in a drunken haze of confusion. He saw me running away. He struggled to lift up his heavy body with his weak arms, so he yelled. "Come back you gotta fix this." But, I kept running. Reaching my house, I was extremely tired and instantly fell asleep.

I woke up the next day, confused if yesterdays events even occurred. But, I saw the bruises on my face on body. (Maybe I had some weird concussion induced dream) I thought to myself. My parents already left for work. I got dressed and made my way downstairs. When I heard a knock at the door. I was shocked to see Bruce standing in front of me. His muscular body still towering over me. However, this time he didn't have a form fitting shirt on. Instead, he was wearing an over sized sweater.

He weakly grabbed me by the collar. "Nobody is here right." He whispered. I just nodded yes. Then he tried to push me inside, but he failed to even move me an inch. Instead, I just walked back into the house, allowing him to follow me. He sighed and closed the door, as he followed me inside. I was just speechless and confused. Then he looked me straight in the eye and said "You gotta help me." He started taking off his sweater. Underneath he was shirtless. His massive pecs and 8 pack were the first things to come out. Then. I realized the truth once I saw his tiny arms. (It wasn't a dream).

"You gotta change me ... you gotta help me." He begged. I stood their in disbelief. "I don't even know what I did." I replied. "Look you little shit. I might not have my arms. But, I still have my legs, chest, and abs. If you don't help me, I'm going kick your ass." He yelled. With his small arms he grabbed my hands and weakly pressed them against his body. Scared my instincts took over. Not wanting him to kick my ass and wanting to fix what I did to him, I slid my hands to his arms. Again they felt soft, but with each heart beat they pumped up with muscle. Suddenly, he pushed me away.

"What the fuck are you doing." He yelled. "I want you to drain me from my muscles, not give them back." "What!?" I gasped in absolute shock. "Why?" "I realized something after, I sobered up and calmed down, yesterday. I hate my body. I always have. I hate being a big strong muscle jock." He said with complete honesty, while I stood there with my mouth open in shock. "I'm gay by the way. No one knows. Everyone excepts me to be this tough guy. But, I want to be small. I want a big strong man to take care of me. The truth is I had a crush on you in school. But, I hated that fact. So, I took it out by kicking your ass. By making you the monster." His voice now pained with guilt and regret. "Truth is ... I wanna be a twink" he shook his head and laughed "And now you can help ... you can change me. I already ruined this life. Turn me into a completely different person, so I can start again."

I looked at him. My bully confessing everything to me. All the things he did to me, why would I help him? But, my moral compass took the best of me. And , I placed my hands on his rock hard body. Instantly muscle evaporated off his body. His thick arms became sticks again. His chest flattened out, as I rubbed my hands on them. His abs were washed away with one brush of my hands. I continued rubbing different parts of his body. As these parts became clay in my hands, they started to shrink and become less defined. Less muscular. Smaller. Suddenly he started shrinking, until he was smaller then me. I made some changes to his face, but for the most part kept it the same. My hands slipped as I accidentally touched his crotch, shrinking his dick and balls as a result. He only moaned out in pleasure. His transformation was done as he cummed, all over the floor. His eyes glazed over.

"I'm sooo ... sorry for everything I put you through." He said to me. His voice was softer and lost any ounce of toughness. "I hope you can forgive me" he continued. Any presence of power left him. Now in front of me was a timid little twink. I understood what happened. I changed him and now his personality shifted. "Um ... now that your the big one. I mean you don't have to. But, since I have had a crush on you. And, I'd like to repay you. Can you ... um please... um fuck me." He shyly said, his checks becoming red.

I just nodded. As we embraced each other. Slowly making out. My body wrapped around his smaller frame. He adjust to suck my dick. And, I chuckled in disbelief, as my ex bully is now the little weak one who just wants to please me. I lift him up on the bed. With erotic thoughts of his transformation in my head, I shoved my hard on into his tight little ass. We both climaxed and laid next to each other, catching our breath.

He leaned over and kissed me. "Thank You." He said. He took my clothes and walked out of my home. They were still to big for him, but they fit better than his old ones. I never heard from him again. But, I heard he made his way to California to live the best off his twink life.

That was my first time having sex and the first use of my power. It is also, only, the first part of my story.

Riverdale, “Chapter Thirty-Eight: As Above, So Below”

Day At Least Seven Solitary Coif: struggling

Alice’s thigh: stunning

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: FP’s jellybean tattoo: incredibly, tenderly sad

Certified pedigree: “I’m glad the Farm opened you up to the possibility of us”: either Alice thought about this to herself, or she (absolutely) asked the rest of her cult what they thought. what they THOUGHT about her sleeping with FP again. “What d’you think, girls?” Alice wine clubbed FP Jones’s dick!

who has more game, FP or Jughead? FP a) is a grown man, b) is oftentimes gainfully employed (I’ve forgotten if he’s employed right now), c) is strong enough to carry a high school boy out of the woods, d) was VERY smooth with his seemingly instinctual “Then don’t. Tell him,” e) did that thing where he took the gum out of his mouth when Alice came to his trailer, and f) looked pretty good in his crisp Pop’s uniform when he was employed at Pop’s. however FP also a) tends to drink when not employed and b) is fucking obsessed with Toledo, a town I will burn to the ground if I ever set foot in it. meanwhile, Jughead a) climbed up a fucking ladder to Betty’s bedroom, b) ABSOLUTELY KILLED IT when he and Betty almost fucked each other in the kitchen, c) KILLED IT AND BURIED IT in the moments before fucking her on the couch when he was all, “Or you could stay,” and fucking touched her dress like she was an angel of the Lord and he was just a humble shepherd boy whose eyes were not worthy to gaze upon her countenance, d) only strategically removes his hat, and e) rides a motorcycle. the hat is not a con, necessarily, and being a writer in high school is a cross some of us simply have to bear, but he is like, kind of a pain sometimes and a little squirrelly, but w/r/t the love of his life, he has tailored himself to her every need almost perfectly

OH AND I FORGOT WHEN HE KISSED HER SCABBY BLOOD KNUCKLES! OH SHIT!

Veronica has the most game on the entire show

I like when they have Jughead use words like “modicum”

“Ben’s death haunts me, Jug. He didn’t scream. Why not, I wonder?”: writing credits this episode go to Daphne de Maurier

YYEEEAAAAAHHH THE BLUE & GOLD CRIME BOARD BABY

I would almost expect something more from the warden’s tie, except that I know plain clothing is, in and of itself, a warning sign

anything that gets Veronica in her reading glasses is okay by me, and this includes Pop’s hemorrhaging money

Jughead can wear just a T-shirt sans jacket or flannel any old time he wants, I’m just putting that vibe out there

“Of course we’re calling it a speakeasy.”

Jug’s suspender game is strong, so really Betty should know she has nothing to worry about

his stupid dumb round face looking at her when she pulls him aside is pretty. remember when he kissed her hands? fucking Jughead sometimes, dude

“Evelyn...creeps me out.”

I like Betty’s overalls and Evelyn’s romper thing

what I expected when Kevin dialed the phone was for the whole booth to sink into the basement like a surprise elevator

Kander and Ebb wrote the music to, among much else, Cabaret and Chicago, those being some of their most gay

I LOVE VERONICA’S WHITE SHIRT. IT’S JUST A FUCKING PLAIN WHITE SHIRT, SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: is there some heat between Veronica and Reggie? am I crazy?

the foursome of Reg, Ronnie, Josie, and Kev is basically just as strong as the cour four strictly in terms of hair

I don’t know that I like Penny’s sleeveless Ghoulies vest more than her leather Serpents jacket but I do know I like it at least the same amount (oodles)

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Day One Lifted Bag Off Head Hair: GREAT

OH MY GOD, JOAQUIN!!!! WHEN WILL JOAQUIN REST. DOES EVERY TERRIBLE THING HAVE TO HAPPEN TO JOAQUIN BEFORE IT HAPPENS TO SOMEONE ELSE. IS JOAQUIN IN THE FARM

does Archie have a scar on his head? is it KJ’s? have I lost track of something?

Gay?!: BABY TEETH is an absolute twink and he was tapped to save his life

I’m suspicious of Peter because his name is, simply, “Peter”

Gay.: Cheryl and Toni are just like lounging in a single chair together and that’s the bisexual agenda

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s heavy card stock IS very nice

Ethel’s cute yellow cardigan is back, which matches her thermos and lunchbox

I enjoyed when Betty sits down and you think she’s going to apologize for being there at Ben’s death but instead she just fucking grills Ethel some more

“...G&G.”

OOOOOOHHHHHHH JUGHEAD’S TURNING IT ON WITH THAT PRINCESS SHIT

Please protect Betty: Betty’s entire expression at being told she’s “not worthy,” God bless her

The female gaze: I don’t know why Reggie’s shirt is off. probably Reggie doesn’t even know

Reggie’s panicked JJ face is one of the top five panicked faces of all time. he’s tied at least with the girl in Jurassic Park when she sees the raptor shadow and her hand holding that green Jell-O starts shaking

Minetta doesn’t even pretend he’s looking for something other than whatever was in those boxes. cold, Minetta

REGGIE’S SALUTE

Reg simply being aware that Minetta and the Ghoulies work for Hiram almost brings me to tears. not only is he a walking sculpture with a pair of lips that would make Sarah Steller throw herself off the Hoover Dam, but he is also a genius

VERONICA IS SO BEAUTIFUL. “Not until I’m properly armed.” just look at her!

Ethel didn’t even come to the first meeting of the Farm Club? cold, Ethel

Evelyn offering Betty a pizza slice comes off as her genuinely wanting Betty to have a piece of pizza if she wants, which is the first non-creepy thing she’s done (Jughead would take the pizza)

she of course follows this up with “that darn medication”

Archie looks like a corpse in the blue light

tell me “wakey, wakey” is a Kill Bill reference. TELL ME IT IS

the guy they have fighting Archie looks just enough like Khabib Nurmagomedov that I was like, is this an unconscious wish on someone’s part to do a rematch of red-haired McGregor vs. Khabib except it’s on Riverdale so it’s in something called “the Pit” which is a drained swimming pool and they’re in juvie? (it’d have to be a fantasy in that Conor McGregor would get his ass beaten by Khabib Nurmagomedov in any rematch in any universe, in the universe)

dude does his best but, as Sweet Pea and Vintage Reggie can tell you, you cannot let Archie land a) a right hook or b) an uppercut or he will end this fight

who’re the rando white women watching? their fucking wives? goddammit, white women

I think Baby Teeth could take Reggie jawline-to-jawline

Veronica’s kittenish heels sinking into the dirt as opposed to her striding effortlessly as Moses parting the Red Sea

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: “THAT VIPER BITCH”

Antoinette Topaz is fluent in many languages, including Veronica’s

God bless jingle-jangle: the fucking cat burglar sequence set to “Jingle Jangle” just about fucking did it

Ethel’s candle game is reaching midnight mass-levels of mastery

so did Betty and Jughead get their ad hoc sex den (good band name) out of the bunker before Ethel got there? or was it there the whole time but for Ben and Ethel?

I feel I want to write down that Ben abandoned Ethel to ascend prematurely with Dilton otherwise I’ll forget and will be tricked by something later on

POLLY’S KNITTED HALTER

closed captioning capitalized the Shady Man, the second strangest Riverdale skull

Alice really just did Betty like that! maybe Betty DOES need to live in a bunker

50 Shades of Betty: “The wig. The webcaming.”

I love how Betty always gets very sarcastically OH, OKAY THEN when she decides to start laying out some truths

Alice stands up and her dress has some sort of insane asymmetrical hemline and she’s also got an ankle bracelet!!!!!!

Dilton Doiley Ethel Muggs is a canonically great dancer the DM: Ethel’s little crush on Jughead circa his birthday party has not abated. even when he was being insane about the Serpents I bet she entertained sweet fantasies of buying a pleather jacket off ModCloth and Jughead “inducting” her. so she found herself a coterie of pliable boys who were also gangly and weird and obsessed with details and pacts and she became their princess. so THERE. you fucking bet she’s gonna get a kiss out of Jughead before she fucking poisons herself

Ethel’s dungeon master voice is giving me a sort of ASMR vibe

I don’t want to veer too wildly but she is wearing a crown, her character has “a crown”

dog, was she about to kill Jughead right then and there? Ethel goes hard. Ethel might go harder than Jughead

“You’re asking me to play Russian roulette!” “I’m asking you to play Gryphons and Gargoyles.” THIS BITCH (in context it’s very smooth and bitchy)

GOD BUT JUGHEAD DID DRINK IT. VERY WELL KNOWINGLY, HE DID IT

Jughead eats: Salud is just the sort of thing I’d expect Jug to say before maybe drinking cyanide (or skol, if he had been watching Ingmar Bergman)

I don’t know if I could drink that much Kool-Aid that fast. Kool-Aid and Sunny D always made my teeth feel filmy. I could definitely down that much Capri Sun, if it were in a pouch the size of my shin

anyway Ethel’s sick move telling Jughead he has to kiss her first got an emotional reaction from me at almost the level of when Cheryl came down to Jason’s wake in that white dress

Jughead and Ethel are almost of a height, which is weirdly lovely

These students are legally children: maybe Ethel put the poison in after Jughead had chosen. I maybe doubt she would’ve just fucking assassinated Jughead

Jughead was reading next to her when she woke up, which is just a specific kind of daydream you have, sometimes

Sixth period is Intro to Film: HEISENBURG

Toni’s pictures are certainly shot with a mind to lighting, depth

is blue light the light of evil? Hiram’s study, the warden’s office?

Archie > Dawson: of course Archie imagines talking to his father and of course he imagines his father telling him to “take one.” I love Self-Sacrificial Lamb Archie (or just momentarily self-sacrificing). better than Fascist Archie!

well, Betty’s room has blue light too. fucking forget it then

although she is SURROUNDED BY EVIL at all times

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: “I trust them more than I trust you” is season one-level Alice-shade

Cheryl’s sheaths: I like very much Cheryl’s bosomy sequin thing and Toni’s back jewelry

I also like the RROTC boys in their like WWII uniforms, which may be anachronistic but still hard vintage, and the cigar girls

Jughead doubts it: there’s so much going on when Betty goes all melty and wipes some of the Fresh-Aid off Jug’s lips and Jug, who is not smiling, looks at Sweet Pea helping Veronica

Best costume bit: Veronica is in magenta, because I deserve it

I can’t wholly endorse Reggie’s non-black plaid trousers paired with a solid black blazer but I CAN endorse Reggie as a whole

Cheryl’s Hiram’s pins: I think Hiram has a fucking octopus pin! I think it is!!!!!!!!

the wallpaper behind Hiram downstairs is...interesting. it’s like a cutout from that Disney cartoon for “Winter Wonderland”

we stay on Veronica’s face for sort of an extra beat, so I can confirm a) she’s still beautiful and b) she has a sparkly thing in her hair

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Josie’s got that thing going on where you gem up the part in your hair

God I love a good Riverdale music/mayhem montage. like what were they playing when Jughead ran the gauntlet? fuck sometimes this stuff is just still so good (“Mess Around” when Reggie lunged for Jughead also counts, though not performed live somewhere else in Riverdale at the same moment)

“Anything Goes” is in fact not Kander and Ebb but Cole Porter

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: I love a good bead of bloody spit dangling from someone’s mouth during a slow-mo fight sequence

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: “THAT KID…..IS A STAR.”

that fucking rum, can you believe it? the fucking shade of it all

Fifth period is AP English: OH MY GOD. THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. OH MY GOD, THE FUCKING HAMMER. THE COUNT OF MONTE MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMN YES GOD HOLY BITCH

“Damn good coffee”: the goddamn shot of FP and Alice standing together flanked by the flames of their righteous destruction of the G&G manual

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica is pretty fucking brave to still be living in Hiram Lodge’s HOUSE. and of course that’s what her dressing gown looks like

oh my god, Joaquin is still alive? Joaquin’s STILL HERE?

ARCHIE’S GONNA BREAK OUT OF PRISON AND I MUST CLEANSE MYSELF OF SIN TO BE WORTHY OF ITS GLORY (I trust Riverdale a lot more again at the moment)

so wait, Jughead put the cot BACK? are these two different bunkers? is it the same effing bunker???

“It’s over”: you fucking fool

yes, it’s the same goddamn bunker. the candles are still there! I guess I thought the wicked juju from Ethel’s ~SUICIDE ATTEMPT~ would deter the two of them from FUCKING IN THE EXACT SAME BUNKER but Betty and Jughead literally do not give a single damn where they do it

Jug’s headphones!!!!!!!!!

Cheryl’s expression at reading the G&G manual is appropriately be-Blossomed

The Blossom spawn: she still has a photo of Jason in her locker and I think a sticker that says “Literally no one cares”

What damn high school in America: those manuals have a QR code on the back, so you can play on your phone! GIVE ME THE APP, RAS

who unsheathed Ethel? LORD, WHO LET HER LOOSE?

GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NEXT WEEK: Camila Mendes wears glasses the entire time

The Place Between Here And There - An excerpt from Ch 6

Masterpost

Ch 6 was supposed to be a fluff fest for the ages, and yet in the 10 pages of fic there is just barely 6 pages of RusAme, and if you squint real hard, maybe 1 of those pages is fluff? Goddamn you Ivan and your secrets and social anxiety! orz

--

Al had never been to the bar before, so he hadn’t known what to expect. Literally the only things he knew beforehand about the place were the address and that Jack used to work there about ten years ago. When they got there, Al could totally see it as a place Jack, one of the most party-pooper people ever conceived, would work in - pretty small, kinda quiet, with a multi-generational vibe to it. Not clearly for twenty-somethings, not clearly for forty-somethings. Once the hour got later, it would probably turn into more of a nightclub, but at eight, it was sorta quiet and unassuming, a bit more classy than your usual drinking bar. You could actually talk without even raising your voice to a shout. Two smaller dance floor instead of one big, more booths than tables, they gave a little more privacy. Al had noticed that these types of places were what Vanya preferred – the more crowded and loud it got, the antsier Vanya became. He would try to create more and more space between himself and strangers the more people poured in, pretending the crowd didn’t bother him, until finally he broke and started openly glaring at anyone closer than arm’s length and constantly checking the time. Al on the other hand lived for crowds, he loved nothing more than the pulse of a full dancefloor, enjoyed talking and dancing with strangers and loud music. He still went to straight-up nightclubs on the weekends he wasn’t with Vanya, but on dates he wanted them both to have as much fun as possible. Al liked the quieter places alright, as long as he had someone interesting to pass the time with.

They both got a beer at the counter – Al insisted Vanya try it out, because it was his favorite brand. Vanya wasn’t a beer person, but gave it a try for Al’s sake. He liked it enough to not pass it onto Al after the first sip. Though Vanya was hardly the type to not finish a drink even if he hated it - if it was in front of him, he would drink it. “Good, ain’t it?” “It isn’t the worst beer I’ve tried”, Vanya amended. That basically meant it was the best damn beer he’d ever tasted, despite what the sour face might indicate. “Told ya it’s the best! Now, tell me about your day. Nab any criminals lately?” “We’re no closer to finding a viable suspect. At this point I don’t know that much more than you do.” “Gimme some ‘a dat juicy confidential info! I’ll make it up to you later”, Al winked. Vanya wasn’t convinced, and refused any further talk about work. But Al was determined to hear more, so he kept buying his lover more beers, who was helpless to refuse them, while making sure to stay sober himself. About an hour and three beers later, Vanya finally started opening up a bit more about the case. “Everyone’s frustrated, there’s no evidence and no clues. The man’s smart, you have to admit”, he said with a weirdly appreciative tone. Creepy. He needed a reminder of what kind of smart man BK was. “Too bad he uses those smart for something evil. Can you even imagine what a shitty person he is? He doesn’t just murder, he tortures.” “You’re not the first to say that”, Vanya answered flippantly. Every now and then Al got the feeling Vanya didn’t really care all that much about the victims – he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the way Vanya spoke about them, it kind of felt a little disrespectful, maybe? That he forgot what they had gone through and that they were dead, with heart-broken families left behind? Mattie would have known exactly what was off, but they didn’t talk with each other – they knew of each other, of course, Mattie had been the first to know about Vanya and Al’s one month anniversary, and siblings tend to come up in conversation. “Everyone needs a hobby, I suppose”, Vanya finished, shrugging, like he was talking about graffiti artists. This was what Al meant by disrespectful – like he wasn’t talking about torture and murder. “Murdering people is a shit hobby. He should take up boxing or something if he really needs to punch something.”, Al sneered, upset and somewhat regretting bringing up the subject. His reactions to the fates of the poor victims were profoundly different from Vanya’s, and reminded him that there was something undeniably wrong with Vanya’s brain. “That would only make him more dangerous. So far all the victims have been weak, you wouldn’t want him taking down MMA fighters. Or firefighters”, Vanya countered. “But wasn’t that one guy like six foot two?” Vanya thought for only a moment before figuring out who exactly Al was talking about. “Turner, 6 feet, 130 pounds, dancer. Looked taller because he was so thin. Didn’t know the first thing about self-defense.” The conversation started feeling like one of those who would win, Batman or Superman arguments. Was it just Vanya’s illness, or did all homicide detectives become like this? What about pathologists? If Al some day got into the academy, would he in time become as nonchalant about rape, death and torture? He liked to think no, his compassion was more deep-rooted than that – but Vanya was a bleeding heart deep under all that pretend indifference, had he at one point been like Al? Could he with utmost certainty say that he would never look at a body and not feel sad? “And the last victim was the twinkiest twink you’ve ever seen.” “Poor boy”, Al said and felt his heart squeeze. He was sure he would never talk like that about someone who had been strangled and beaten for hours, until no healthy skin was left anywhere, then castrated and cut open while still alive, no matter how many years he worked for homicide. “I think you would’ve liked him”, Vanya mused. “How the hell would you know?” You didn’t even give enough of a shit to call him young and thin instead of twink, how would you know what kind of a person he was. Vanya looked taken aback, and apparently only then realized he wasn’t completely sober. How he had gotten drunk enough to not know what he was saying was anyone’s guess, since it always took a good five shots of hard liquor to get him tipsy. All Al knew was that he had learned to read the signs pretty well - more relaxed speech, more open posture, more absent-minded smiling. Vanya never started slurring or stumbling, he just became happier. Al wished that could be his natural state. Maybe with time, and some tender, loving care. “Sorry, I should not talk about cases with civilians.” “’S okay, ‘s just me. So how’d you know I’d like him?” Vanya wasn’t completely swayed by the argument, but he was terrible at saying no to Al. “He had many friends. Very social, everyone said he had a taste for adventure and was always up for trying something new. He was well-known in the gay community.” “Wait, he was actually gay? I thought you called him twink just to insult him.” “I said I should not talk about the case with civilians. Read the papers and you will know everything you are allowed to. I do not trust myself to keep confidentiality right now.” The weirdest thing about Vanya’s drunkenness was that he could tone it down at will. If he wanted to sober up, he would. He had displayed the ability a couple times before, but never this clearly. It was like alcohol had never entered the man’s system – gone were the casualness and smiles. “You’re such a tease!” Al complained, because he was really getting curious again, despite Vanya’s callous words about the victims. “Only for you, my darling podsolnukh”, Vanya smiled, but the playful words were so clearly calculated to steer Al’s thoughts elsewhere it wasn’t even funny. “Don’t try to sweet-talk your way out of this, mister. I’ll kiss you.” Vanya was super shy in public. Even though he had gotten more cuddly in private, PDAs were a great way to punish him. “You leave me no choice, being so cunning as to get me drunk to unveil my secrets.” “That’s it, you’re getting smooched right now!” Vanya did his best to push Al out of reach, but Al was the stronger of them and managed to smack him twice on the cheek. “You are making everyone uncomfortable”, Vanya muttered after Al finally left him alone. “You’re the one making a scene out of it! No one would have noticed a thing if you hadn’t been squealing like a pig!” “I was not, and you should take other people in to consideration before pulling these stunts!” “Oh yeah?” Al said, and Vanya blanched at whatever horror he imagined Al would do next. Al allowed himself a victorious smirk before forming a wicked plan. He got up to stand on the seat. “HEY! EVERYONE!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, and only a couple heads turned. “Stop that! Get down!” Vanya screamed. “THIS GUY IS MY HUNNY BUN – urk!” Vanya pulled Al down by his collar and dragged him out, so red in the face he could’ve been mistaken for Clifford. He was so embarrassed Al had no doubt he would’ve walked home without his coat if Al hadn’t complained about being cold. And even then he refused to enter the bar again, staying outside while Al went to finish Vanya’s last beer and grab their clothes. He was so embarrassed that Al felt a real need to apologize – apparently only Vanya could induce this feeling in him, the only other time he had felt the same need was after causing that panic attack. Vanya accepted it, but not without a long string of Russian expletives – because let’s be honest, they couldn’t be anything else. Then he said he would turn Al’s thermostat all the way down as revenge. Al had expected he would want to stay at his own place after a shock like that, but didn’t question the decision. After all, Al’s home was a mile closer, and there was no way he was walking any further in the wet snow. The streets were mostly empty, but a little past halfway Al spotted a couple making out at a bus stop. He felt a bit jealous, a lot of his past exes had been wary of displaying their sexuality out in public - understandably, sure, since so many of them lived in the south. But even Vanya, who had never shown a single sign of being anywhere near the closet, hated showing affection in public. Al on the other was a very tactile person. He loved holding hands, hugging and kissing. Vanya rarely took the first step, even in private, but followed Al’s lead easily, and lately had started initiating more often. Al liked to think it wasn’t just because Vanya wanted to appease him. Al pointed out the couple to Vanya, who made a face. “Oh c’mon, it’s cute! They’re not afraid to show their love! Unlike some people”, Al teased, and Vanya got a little mad about being reminded of the bar incident. “Lust, more like”, Vanya scoffed loudly. “It’s just not appropriate. They should be more considerate of other people.” “No one’s died of seeing a little affection, babe”, Al argued. “No one’s died of public urination, and yet I don’t see you advocating for that.” “C’mooooooon, just a lil kiss? I really wanna kiss you. That straight couple inspired me.” “No. And you shouldn’t fetishize an orientation.” “I wasn’t fetishizin’ no orientation, I just saw them doing somethin’ I wanna do. How ‘bout just a teeny tiny peck?” “No.” “First you’re a tease and then you’re a bore. Boo.” Vanya chuckled at that, and then took one gloved hand out his pocket. “We can hold hands, if it makes you happy. I don’t mind.” Al took the hand with a giddy smile and squeezed it gently. Vanya’s sweetness shone through these little gestures, and said so much more than his words did. Why couldn’t Al have met him years ago? Woulda spared him a lot of heartache.

my big fat greek christmas (aphrodite X reader christmas fic)

christmas present for y’all,,, this is a reader X aphrodite fic that isn’t really about christmas (shh don’t tell anyone) and more about the ‘fantastic’ relationships between the members of the greek pantheon. read it under the cut

Imagine this: You’re going to Aphrodite’s apartment for Christmas. you’ve been there a few times, and it’s very cosy. You can’t wait to get inside to spend time with her - spending time with her is always a joy.

You walk in, the smell of pine trees and cookies filling your nostrils. You didn’t think she would go to the effort of cooking for Christmas, but if she’s making cookies, you’ll take any opportunity you can get to eat her cooking. You take off your shoes by the door and take a moment to look around before you see her.

You peer around in the hallway, your eyes scanning the room for anything of interest. There’s a lot of beautiful art and photos of Aphrodite with the other gods, and there’s even a photo of you with her, her arms latched from behind you while you both laugh. How sweet of her to do something like that - you’ll have to thank her later with something.

A sudden thump startles you, making you jump a little bit. What was that? It appears as though it came from somewhere nearby, and you predict that something had hit a wall to make that noise. You press an ear against the other wall, trying to listen to whatever is making that noise.

Another thump sound comes from the wall. It’s followed by a man yelling, and another thump follows that. The last thump feels hollower, as if something hit the floor hard. You’re not too sure what’s going on, but you know that a feeling of dread is pooling in your stomach. Another scream echoes through the wall, yet this time it’s a sharp female scream. What in the lord’s name is going on here? You try not the think of the worst scenario, and instead try to take your thoughts somewhere nicer. Think about a nice green meadow with clear blue skies-

“Oh, you’re here already! It’s so nice to see you again, and you look just as cute as ever!” a soft lilting voice catches your ear, and you turn towards the source. It’s Aphrodite, radiating with beauty as always. She’s wearing a cute beige over-sized sweater with a pair of blue skinny jeans, yet she makes it look like they were the chicest items of the season. You let out a sigh of relief - thank goodness she’s okay. Still, the sounds from earlier linger in your mind, making you feel a bit uneasy.

“So, what are you doing just sitting around in the hallway? Come into the living room already! I’m busy cooking stuff right now, but I’d appreciate some company to keep me entertained.” she says, wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace. it’s warm and soft, and it makes you feel at ease.

You manage to stammer out a response and follow her into the living room. She glides elegantly in front of you, her feet not touching the ground even once.

“Sorry about the mess on the floor and couch, I had a little trouble with 2 problems that wouldn’t listen to reason...”

It’s then when you see the aftermath of a bloody war between the Greek pantheon. Apollo and Artemis lie on the floor, as still as corpses. It looks much like a renaissance painting, their faces in some sort of blank bliss, their limbs outstretched longingly - for what, you do not know, but they seem to grasp at your soul.

“I kinda forget those two were there. Sorry you had to see this...” Aphrodite lingers on the last word, and you tell her about hearing a pair of screams while you were in the hallway. Her face shifts into discomfort, but she relents with a sigh. She takes a seat on the dishevelled couch, and you sit beside her.

“Well, these two didn’t want to go and visit dad on Olympus, and you know that I had made plans with you so that we could celebrate Christmas together.” She looks at you with a soft smile, but that quickly fades into a deep frown.

“I know that it’s always awkward with our family, but at the very least I told our parents that I’d be spending the holidays with you - these two didn’t do anything.” She points dramatically at the sleeping pair, her voice filled with loathing and anger. Well, they look... peaceful at the very least.

“They just showed up on my front door, and they wouldn’t leave, insisting that I had to look after them ‘in the name of the Christmas spirit’. I said it’d be fine if they didn’t cause any trouble, but as soon as they sat down on the couch they started bickering over what Christmas movie to put on.” You put a hand on hers in a sign of empathy, and she slowly traces her finger around your hand.

“And they just kept yelling and going on, and so I decided to get them to do something more productive, like helping me with the cooking. Yet, they fought over what they were going to cook, and they even started to attack my cooking. Those idiots couldn’t cook a packet of 2-minute noodles, I swear...”

“And so, I suggested that they set the table instead. It was going well and whenever I glanced at the table they seemed to be doing a good job, even if the decorations were a bit... tacky. As I checked on the oven, they came over and said they were done. I quickly went to check on the table, and I saw that they had only set up 3 seats - they had forgotten about you,” she rubs her temple slowly, “and when I brought it up to them, they went on this terrible rant about how Christmas was for family and stuff.” She suddenly grabs you and forces you into a hug, one arm around you and the other stroking your hair.

“And you know how important you are to me, so I got angry with them. We got into a fight, you should've seen the look on that ugly twink’s face when I slammed his head into the ground. Art’s face was just as good as well.” She tries her best attempt at an evil laugh, and you can’t deny it scares you a little bit - you make a mental note not to piss off Aphro any time soon. She releases her grasp around you and flexes an arm, although you can’t exactly see her arm due to the sweater so you both laugh.

“I’ve been training with Amaterasu in hand-to-hand combat recently - I’m not too bad if I say so myself. Ah, it was so worth spending my time being all sweaty and gross just for this moment. it also means that if anyone wants to give you shit I’ll body slam them into a wall with my massive muscles!” She beams with pride, and you try to hold back a giggle.

“Now let’s go check on the turkey, I’m sure it’s almost done by now.”

...it was an interesting Christmas to say the least.

PSA/Rant to those being a dick about us who like Michael Langdon

On one hand, he is the Anti-Christ and have murdered several people, ended the world and all. He's supposed to be that way or what is the plot supposed to even be?

But on the other hand, he's at his core a kid in a man's body who's looking for a mother (even sociopathic kids need mothers, because they're not all evil murderers) and the entire season could have been about mature vs nurture (what I was personally hoping for). Constance was a horrible mother and a a terrible person. Some of us loved her because she was the bitchiest bitch and even Madison couldn't take that title from her, but still. She was bad and so some of the things Michael did to her, which have no excuse, they're terrible actions, were a more violent and "mature" reaction that, if made less violent and mature, would have resembled that of a chikd's tantrum. Michael didn't know how to end the world, because a) he was still a "kid" taking other's ideas because he knew little about anything at all and b) no one gave him a fucking instruction manual. Yeah, he's supposed to be evil. Duh. But people still love evil amd horrible people on this show: Tate, Constance, Dandy, the Killer Clown, Sister Edith, etc. He never raped, experimented on people, or kidnapped them. He killed them, made it simple. I don't think he had an actual want to kill, merely extreme "anger issues" that one gets when they're the child of Satan and have been tried to be murdered a few times. Then again, one can get those as any other kind of human being, also.

Okay so to simple this because I feel like I'm going to get off point, but I did want to explain some of my thoughts:

If you simply don't like Michael, for any reason at all, that's cool. You do you, all's sunny and dandy.

If you do like him, nice. Me too. That's cool. You do you, all's sunny and dandy.

However, if you do or don't like him and you attack others because you feel they should feel differently, you're the one who's pathetic. Some people like Michael purely for his looks, but that's their opinion and their thing. Some of us like him for his personality, his mind and the way Cody Fern decided to portray him (who has stated he thought Michael was seeing things from more of a lost child's eyes, not a cold blooded killer). So it's not just one. Single. Reason as to why he is popular this season. It's not just all of us liking him because "the actor's a hot twink". But even if it was, that doesn't give you any fucking right to be a dick, so if you do this, take the stick out your ass, swipe past the posts of Michael, and continue living your life in your own goddamn business.

PSA over, just like my little rant.

Oh, and, I don't care if I get any hate (especially anons, y'all just cowardice) because bitches can bitch but I'll still be here, proud.

Diner Date