CW: MCR :)

'Cause I love all the poison away with the boys in the band

Okay so this one is L O N G- Don't question the format I'm trying new things.

Aftg, it's been a while! Almost got a full playlist of song that would match aftg and that I would love to animate, unfortunately I have exams to pass (3rd year art school film incoming) so this is a kind of compromise.

betty x archie - guilty as charged (one-shot fanfiction/headcanon)

context : post-4x17 kiss and whatever the hell seems to be about to happen in that bunker (omg so excited for 4x18 ! i hadn’t watched riverdale in years lol. #rising from dead alongside barchie.)

Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper have agreed that they will not talk about it. Ever. "Don't worry, Betty. We'll take it to the grave." But Betty is so overwhelmed by guilt that she cracks within days.

She confesses everything to Veronica when she comes over for brunch and apologizes profusely. V is mad as hell (understandably) and walks out on her. She goes straight to Archie's and breaks up with him violently, crying and breaking his things, angsty emo song style. Archie tells her that he is so sorry but she doesn't wanna hear it. She throws him out of his own room. Without protest, Archie heads down to the garage. Archie feels both terrible and relieved, sitting down next to his father's guitar holding his head between his hands. He hears a beep in his pocket. It's his phone - and it lights up with Betty's name. It's a text. "I'm so sorry. I just couldn't. I felt so guilty." Archie smiles and replies. "It's ok. I'm glad you did."

Veronica leaves Archie's house, slamming the door brutally. Ronnie is hurting so bad. All she wants to do is cry on her best friend's shoulder but she can't. V remembers Betty pouring her heart out in guilt. The image haunts her. She goes home crying silently. What a waste of a Friday night.

It's Sunday. It's been two days since Betty locked herself in her room. Jughead assumes it's because something's going down with her mother again, but he doesn't know why. He is worried sick. He asks Archie to tag along to try and cheer her up. Archie tells him it's best if he doesn't and Jughead finds this extremely odd. Jughead walks in on Betty lying in her bed, going through pictures of the four of them in sophomore year with bright shot red eyes. "Betty, talk to me" he says. She sits up and sends Jughead home, telling him she is gonna be okay but needs to be alone. He kisses her forehead and leaves reluntanctly.

As soon as he closes the door, Betty whimpers. Jughead crosses Ronnie on the way out. They stare at each other and Veronica feels extremely uncomfortable, promptly breaking eye contact with him and going up to Betty's room without a word. "You'll probably have better luck than me."he tells her. As Jug leaves, Veronica opens the door to Betty's room. Betty slowly turns her head around starting to say "Jughea - " but is cut off by the sight of Veronica. Betty wipes the tear that inadvertently glides on her cheek. "V, what are you doing here ? I thought -" "I... I can't stand the sight of Archie. He utterly and completely betrayed me. But you... you're my best friend. And despite all the consequences, you came clean. You came clean and that meant something to me. I... It may take a while for everything to go back to normal. I don't know if it ever will. But I forgive you. I need you, Betty." Betty smiles and Veronica smiles back. They hug. "Oh, V. I'm so sorry." They sit down on Betty's bed. Veronica puts her head on Betty's lap. And begins venting about Archie, which makes Betty feel even guiltier. But she lets her speak freely and consoles her to the best of her ability, despite the awkwardness of the whole situation. She gently brushes Ronnie's hair out of her face. Suddenly, Veronica sits up. "Betty, can I ask you a question ?" "Yeah, of course. Anything." Teary eyed, Betty is almost smiling. She feels so lucky to have such an amazing best friend. She vows to never hurt her like this again. "What do you feel for Archie ?" Betty freezes.

"Do you have feelings for Archie ?" "I... I don't know." Veronica is angered by the answer and gets up to leave. Betty goes on "I don't know what I'm feeling. I... I never grieved Archie and I... jumped into my relationship with Jughead and never looked back. The whole fake dating thing, it just brought something back. But I'm not sure what." Veronica looks puzzled. "Archie... told me it didn't mean anything to either of you. Liar." Betty looks at Ronnie on the verge of tears, for what seems like a very long while. Betty breaks the silence. "I don't think he was lying to you when he said that." Veronica looks shocked. "How... how can you defend him ? B ! I find it in my heart to forgive you and you defend Archie ???" "No. It's just that I think we were both lying to ourselves."  Veronica calms down, but she looks crushed. Her eyes darken, seeing her worst suspicions become real. Veronica lets out a small laugh and looks up at Betty. "Do you love him ?" Betty stays silent. Veronica looks at her. She knows what that silence means and hugs her tight. "I never truly apologized to you." B looks at her confused. "For going out with Archie in the first place, after telling you I'd help you get him." "V, thank you but you don't have to apologize for that. And definitely not now." They pull away and look into each other's eyes. "I won't stand in the way of your happiness, B. I can get over you and Archie. But I can't lose you." They nod, eyes flickering with tears and hope for their friendship. They smiled.

"But, what about Jughead then ? Are you going to tell him ?" Ronnie inquires. "Of course I will. I couldn't ask you to keep it a secret from him or anyone else. But I have to tell him myself." "Oh believe me, I have no intention of getting anymore involved into this cluster-fuck your feelings created. Nuh-huh." Veronica jokes sadly. Betty lets out a nervous laugh then cries softly. She looks at Ronnie, who puts her hand on her shoulder. Betty finds her touch so comforting. "I really don't deserve you." Veronica smiles. "No, you don't. But I love you anyway." Betty looks at Veronica. "I know I need to do it." She whimpers. "But I don't know how to. I don't even know how I feel about all of this either. I know I love him but I... I'm so confused. I don't even understand how this happened in the first place. I feel so guilty." "I'd do it sooner rather than later. There's never a right time for these things, believe me, I'd know." "Jug has a make-up exam thursday... I'll tell him after that." Ronnie nods. "Do you want to eat anything ? I have gummy bears." Ronnie shakes her head. "No. But I'll take some of that water if you don't mind." Ronnie points at Betty's water bottle on the nightstand. Betty hands it to her and Veronica finishes it. "Ok, I gotta go." Ronnie gets up to leave. Betty walks her to the door. "Lunch Friday ?", Betty asks. Veronica nods. Later that night, Veronica texts Betty. "I'm glad we could talk." "So am I. You're the best, V. Love you." "Love you, too. xoxo." Veronica stares at the ceiling of her room and lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She decides to take a hot bubble bath to process. She still felt bad, but she no longer felt terrible.

By the middle of the week, news of Varchie's break up had spread to the whole school, though no one else knew the specifics of it. Betty was MIA. She could not bring herself to drop such a bomb on Jughead right before his exam, but she couldn't stand the thought of pretending either. So she decided to pull a Camille and feign a flu. Despite forgiving Betty, Veronica could not stand Archie. She wanted him to suffer. And she did it the best way she knew : dressing to kill and spilling venom at every opportunity. Reggie was all over her again. V flirted back, looking like the baddest, hottest teen girl for miles. She exaggerated ever so more whenever Archie was around. In doing this however, she realized that her pride was much more hurt than her heart. In fact, she felt pretty damn great. She felt hot. Now that she was single, half of the school was unapologetically at her feet. All of the guys - and quite a lot of girls too - were openly flirting with her. She loved it.

Upon seeing this, Archie's stomach curled up inside him. To his own surprise, he felt no jealousy at all. But he still felt like utter crap. Because all he could think about was Betty. How she was, what she was doing, how she was feeling. He should care that Veronica looks so gorgeous, he should care that she's obviously hurt. But he didn't. Betty occupied his mind like she never had before. He was haunted by the kiss she never should've given him. Betty smelled so good. I love how her ponytail flipped around when we were kissing. I love her ponytail. Another thought popped in his head. Worry. She still wasn't responding to his texts. I love it when she texts me good night... His thoughts were interrupted abruptly.

"Hey, dude. Heard you broke up with Veronica. You ok ?" It was Reggie. Archie smiled "Yeah man, I'm fine." "You sure ?" "Yeah, it just wasn't working between us anymore. I'm ok." "Ah, yeah, that happens." Reggie looked like an ass. Archie laughed. "What is it, Reg? Stop looking at me like that." He turned red. "Ooooooh. Yeah, man. It's okay if you ask her out. I just want her to be happy. Looking back, I think you guys were great together." Reggie looked even more like an ass. He burst out laughing. "Andrews !" He hugged him, jock style. "You're the man, man. I don't know what I'll get you but I'll get you something totally amazing, man. You're such a friend." Not so sure about that. Archie looked down and smiled sarcastically at himself as Reggie left. I can't even bring myself to feel bad about Jughead either. The only thing Archie Andrews felt guilty about, was feeling no guilt about his feelings for Betty whatsoever.

Meanwhile, Jughead was studying so much he was oblivious to anything happening around him. He occasionally texted Betty, who told him to "Hang in there.", reassuring him that he'd pass it. She never doubted him and he loved that. He loved her so much. Whenever he told her that, she only replied with a heart or a smiley face. If he hadn't been so focused, he may have thought something of it. His exam was tomorrow.

Archie saw Jughead in the lounge. I have to tell him. Betty. His phone rang. "Arch, I’m telling him tomorrow." Archie felt uncomfortable with that. Why should Betty be the one to carry the whole weight of this thing ? of our thing ? She already told Veronica. Archie reminisced. She had always been like that. Carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. He couldn’t stand to have put her in such a position again. He should have been the one to tell Ronnie. He needed to man the hell up. He wanted to share her burden, he wanted to ease her pain. "No, Betty. You shouldn’t have to do this too. I’m telling him now." "Archie, NO !!! Don’t!!!!" Betty tried to call him. No answer.

"Jughead." "Archie. Hey, man. What’s up ?" "I need to talk to you." "Sounds serious." "It is, yeah." "Alright, let’s hear it." "Let’s go to the music room." Jughead started to worry. What the hell happened ? He got up promptly and they headed silently to the music room.

"Sit down, Jug." "Archie, what’s going on ?" Archie took a deep breath "You’ve probably heard by now that Veronica and I broke up." "What ? Oh man, no, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry." Jughead got up to hug his friend. Archie welcomed the embrace, knowing he’d probably not hug his friend again for a very long time. And then he interrupted him. Jughead sat back down. "What happened ? I mean, why ?" Archie took another deep breath. "Look, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it, okay ?" "Hum… Ok ?" Archie’s tone was weird. Archie looked him straight in the eye and said "I’m in love with Betty."

Jughead froze. "Sorry, what ?" "I’m in love with Betty, Jughead. I love her, I do. We kissed last week. And we… went to the bunker. I’m sorry." The room fell silent. "Sorry ?" He laughed hysterically. "Sorry ? You’re sorry ? Is that all you have to say to me ? What, why are you sorry ? Was it an accident ? Are you going to stop seeing her ? Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Stop saying shit you don’t mean." "Fine. You know what Jug ? I’m not sorry. I love her, I always have." "Like you love Veronica ?" "Veronica is not Betty." Jughead cussed. "You don't have to tell me that. I can’t even look at you. I’m out of here." Jughead stormed out of the music room, leaving his backpack behind. The redhead sighed and grabbed it. He dropped it at Jughead’s feet. His friend sported a murderous, calm look. Jughead smiled as he picked it up and looked at his best friend. He smiled. And punched him so hard he fell in one fell swoop. Jughead leaves the school grounds while Archie's not-sorry ass is still on the tiled floor.

Archie goes straight home to Betty. "Betty, please. Talk to me." She opens the front door. "Arch. What. have. you. done ?" "I told Jughead. I couldn’t let you do it on your own." "You… you stubborn ginger ! I was waiting to tell him tomorrow." "Betty. we couldn’t post-pone it forever, there is no right time for these news." "Archie, Jughead has a huge exam tomorrow !!! That’s why I was waiting." Archie’s jaw dropped. "Crap." "Yeah, you can say that." Silence. "Oh my God, Archie. You’re hurt." A tear rolls down her cheek. And then another. Archie catches the third one and pulls her chin up towards him. They were gazing far into each other’s eyes. Archie was mesmerized by the ocean that were Betty’s orbs. Betty got lost in the dark thunderstorms of his. Their lips brushed against each other. They were about to kiss, when Betty suddenly pushed him away. "Jughead !"

Betty was mortified. Archie turned around to see Jughead behind them. Jug laughed, cynical. I cannot believe I came here. "Oh yeah, I witnessed the whole thing." "I don’t need you to care for my school life, Betty. I’m a big fucking boy. I’ll handle it." "Jughead, I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. I feel so guilty, I -" "Yes, I am sure you do. I could see that while you were looking at him." "Jughead, please don’t do that. I’m so -" Jug's voice breaks. "You’ve never looked at me liked that." He looked over at Betty’s window above them, where they’d kissed for the first time. "I should’ve known. Don’t worry Betty, you’re off the hook now. We’re over. Go live happily ever after with your true Romeo." Betty was devastated. She couldn't speak. She couldn’t breathe. The words wouldn’t leave her mouth. "And as far as I’m concerned," he paused and smirked, "Archiekins, so are we." Jughead leaves, leaving Archie and Betty staring at each other on the porche. Betty was sobbing and Archie did not know how to hold her. As soon as he tried to hug her, she looked at him anxiously. And slammed the goddamn door on his face.

The days started to go by. Things took back a somewhat natural course. Jughead actually came to take his exam and somehow aced it. He was constantly with the Serpents now. Brooding. Sweet Pea always tried to cheer him up and succeeded occasionally. He was writing a new book. He got a little better everyday. He knew what he wanted to be. And he was not alone. Archie, on the other hand was downright miserable. All he could think of was still Betty and she hadn’t talked to him since the doorstep incident. Archie felt more alone than ever, even though he was constantly surrounded by people. In fact, Archie maintained his status as Mister Popular despite his cheating, given that Veronica had publicly forgiven him. And pretty quickly too, one may add. Almost as soon as she got back together with Reggie. It seemed shallow to some of the student body, but Ronnie was too happy to care. She was blissful with Reggie and she saw no reason to hold onto any grudges that clouded her joy. Veronica could feel herself falling for him, slowly but surely. He made her smile. He took care of her. And she loved it. Veronica had never felt genuinely cared for before. She never had had someone that cared for her and her only. Her parents had their company and their murders to attend to. And Archie… Archie always had Betty. She always came first.

Of course, she still teased him occasionally and spewed a little venom here and there, but nothing Archie couldn't handle. She didn’t truly think ill of him and they both knew it. The pair was developing a genuine friendship. She barely thought of him as her ex. This was different. Free of any sexual tension, free of any pressure. V had never actually been friends with a boy before this. They often hung out alongside Reggie and the guys from the team. If the fact that Archie looked so miserable had satisfied Ronnie at first, she had now grown quite concerned about her new-found friend - and even more so about her blonde bestie. She felt no satisfaction seeing either of them in pain. Ronnie knew she just had to intervene.

Betty had not come to school in two weeks. Considering spring break, Betty hadn’t been seen out of her house in almost a month. Her mother was off investigating god knows what. She was home alone and would not let Archie come see her. Despite him being the only person she wanted to see. Despite him constantly messaging her. Despite his asking her to come over. Despite his calls. Despite him promising that he would wait all the time he needed to wait, as she had done for him. Despite him telling her that he would never give up on them.

Veronica rang the door of the Cooper house. "B, open up, it’s me ! I bring snacks and boooooooze ! It’s Friyay, let’s have a sleepover !" Betty smiled over her balcony. "Get your cute ass down here." Betty rushed downstairs and gave her a big hug. "Come in, come in." The girls went upstairs. Betty smiled, as V poured vodka and cranberry juice into some cups. "Cranberry juice ? Really ?" "Don’t mock, B ! It’s like a cosmo !" Betty laughed. Three cups and half a movie later, Betty dares ask "Soooo ? How’s it going with Reg ? Gimme the deets." "He’s amazing. I’ve never felt like this before. Not even with… Archie." As soon as she hears the word Archie, Betty freezes. "Come on, Betty Cooper ! It’s been weeks. Uuuuuuuuh, uuuuh, I’m alive ! I’m happy ! Jughead passed his exams ! Girl, I love you, but you’re not the center of the worrlddd, girl. I mean, not of everyone’s world at least." They both burst out laughing, half drunk. Veronica poured her another cup, that she downed as Veronica spoke. "Then go be with him ! Or don’t you want to be with him ?" "What, no ? No." Betty was speaking quicker than her thoughts now. "Of course, I want to, I do, of course I d-." Betty covered her big-drunken-mouth. Oh, my God. Veronica smirked.

"That's the first time you’ve said it, isn’t it ?" Betty nodded, terrified. "B, it’s okay." She took Betty’s hands away from her mouth. "Stop beating yourself up. What you did wasn’t right. You are guilty. But you have been tried and you have done your time." Betty was on the verge of tears. Veronica smiled. "As for your other crime," Betty frowned. What other crime ? "I mean your feelings for Archie, Betty." "Oh. That." Betty swallowed. "They cannot be held against you, B. Love is a crime that already comes with a pardon. Because we can't control our feelings. You cannot be blamed and you cannot blame yourself for loving him. It’s something bigger than us all. You’re only human, Betty - you don’t need to be the perfect girl next door all the time. You’re allowed to screw up once in a while. You’re allowed to love." V offered her a huge grin. "But if you fool around with Reggie, I will never forgive you, understood ?" Betty nodded profusely and took her best friend in her arms to plant a huge kiss on her cheek, which ended up on her lips instead, due to the amount of booze previously ingested. Betty pulled away instantly. "Oh my Gosh, I’m so sorryyy, I swear that was not on purpose !" "Heyyyyy, come on. What’d I just tell you, B ? How am I gonna tell Reggie noww-" They laughed in childlike manner. Betty looked at her friend. "Thank you so much, V." Veronica nodded. "Anytime." They decided to restart their screening of Footloose, only to fall asleep less than half an hour later.

Ronnie went home the next morning, proud of her job. It’s up to you now, Betty. Betty was so happy. What should I give Veronica for her birthday ? I gotta get her something real special. I’ll think about it later. Betty was so excited to see Archie that she was about ready to go to his place in her pajamas and everything. She was smiling like a little baby. That is, until she looked at herself in the mirror. When was the last time I moisturized ? Or even showered ? God, my hair looks gross ! How the hell did my armpits end up smelling like my drink ? She knew Archie wouldn’t care about any of that, but she also knew that she needed a shower.  I mean, maybe I could go and have my shower over there… Betty ! Stop it, you perv ! She washed her hair, showered, shaved and moisturized. She put on a white tee underneath her rompers and reached for some white sneakers. She started to comb her hair in a ponytail and suddenly stopped. She let her hair down and tied a red knot-flower printed headband around it instead. It felt a bit wild. It felt free. Just like she did. She put on her deodorant and pink perfume and rushed out the door. Archie.

She headed over to Archie’s - more like ran - and pressed on the door bell. She was so over the moon that she forgot her cellphone. Archie could be practicing his music in the garage so he wouldn’t hear her. When she started debating whether or not to go home and fetch her digital counterpart, Archie yelled "Coming !" Betty fidgeted as she waited for him. She was so nervous. She was wondering whether or not she should have told him beforehand. Maybe it was rude. Maybe… When Archie finally opened the door (after the longest minute of Betty's existence), Betty smiled. Archie was mesmerized. And confused. And mesmerized. She is so beautiful. Betty took a step towards him. "Hi, Arch." He smiled. "Hey, Betts." Betty looked up to him. "I… I’m sorry." "Sorry ? What do you have to be sorry about ?" Is she gonna dump me ? We haven’t even started dating ! "I’m sorry it took me so long to come talk to you. I’m sorry I ignored you this past month. I’m sorry I felt so guilty about us. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it all out." Archie breathed again. He smiled tenderly. "Do you want to come in ?" She nodded. Archie made way for her and closed the door. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "You don’t have to be sorry about any of that. You care so much, about everyone around you. It’s one of the reasons… It’s one of the reasons I love you." Ba-dump, ba-dump. Betty's heart skipped a beat, as Archie raised his right hand to caress her cheek. She wasn't breathing. But her eyes shone.

She tilted her head so as to fit his calloused hand perfectly and smiled softly. Archie leaned in for a kiss, unsure, slowly bringing their mouths together. As his lips pressed hers, Betty opened her mouth to make way for his. He smiled before changing the location of his hands on her body. Archie seized her neck gently with his left hand. Her loose hair fell softly over it, just as he slipped his right one firmly around her waist, in between her tee-shirt and her romper. Betty moved both her hands to his upper body, slowly studying his abs, chest and strong shoulders. She threw one of her arms over his back and her other one went to caress his hair. She was standing on her tiptoes now. Their mouths moved together perfectly, no adjustments needed. His tongue circled hers slowly. Their kiss deepened even more. They started to breathe heavily. Betty’s back was backed up against the staircase. Betty clung strongly to Archie’s hair now. He, in turn, placed her leg around him. Before he knew it, Betty pulled herself up and wrapped her second one around him as well. He propped her up fast, desperately even. He started to carry her towards the stairs. Betty pulled an inch away from him, still panting. She whispered into his mouth. "Arch ?" "Yeah ?" "I love you too." Archie smiled, relieved, both appalled and marveled by the syllables that had just escaped her mouth. He stared at her now. Her eyes were still closed. He kissed her strongly. She smiled and hugged him tight as he proceeded in carrying her up the stairs.

Please god do you have recommendations on the best series to watch

Some of my personal recomendations that I can list from the top of my head, I will be writing a lot of text below so hold onto your horses.

My Life- NatalieFirexx

Still running to this day and in its 12th season. So amazing to see the growth over the years. The first seasons are so funny in a sense of knowing a little Christian emo kid made them, but later seasons have developed into such an interesting story with beautiful visuals, incredible cinematography and relationships that you end up caring about so deeply. Every season has a new storyline to follow and it's always so wild remembering all that's happened in its 10 year run and thinking up what else is to come. Though season 12 is said to be it's final season and I look forward to seeing what Natalie has in store for us after the finale.

The story of My Life follows the Andrews family and their friends in everyday shenanigans, you know, the usual: teen pregnancy, kidnapping, vampires, murder, identity theft, angels, ghosts, hacked kids and love.

(There's also a My Life Abridged voice acting series of season 1 currently in the works, now at episode 5)

Smooth Criminal - SaltPepperSims1408

I always have fun rewatching this. Its only 2 seasons long and once again, a sims series that evolved over it's run. Following Abby as her life goes from normal (if you can call your illegal scientist parents experimenting on criminals in your basement normal) to having visions of her parent's test subject's past and joining his gang where hes the leader and battles a disease that gives him 10x the strength and intelligence of a regular human being. Catch is, this genetic disease is rare and makes you go insane. Most people with it end up insane by 30.

A series with a lot of guns, a badass female main protag, death, once again, teen pregnancy (which will be a common sims series theme), fun dream/vision sequences and in my opinion has a great sense of humour.

SaltPepperSims1408 also has a highly recommended voice over series (though incomplete) titled Apokalypsis, a group of young adults/teens trying to survive in an apocalypse.

CINDER - GrayLeeStudios

Based on the book CINDER by Marissa Meyer. Cinder is a beautifully made voice over series, great visuals, wonderfully told it's story, though it is incomplete at 5 episodes, each running 10-18 minutes. Loosely based on the original Cinderella story but in a futuristic Beijing, adding robots, a colonization on the moon and a deadly plague that has affected the Emperor.

The protagonist is the mechanic, Lihn Cinder. Despite how well known her work as a mechanic is, she is looked down on for being a cyborg and is presented for plague research where she and Prince Kai become closer.

Y O U T H - 1998sims

YOUTH is a retelling of Youth, also a sims series by the same creator that reached its second season before discontinuing. Already a series that dealt with real life issues and involved a lot of representation in its characters. YOUTH is a different experience with all new characters, even more representation and everyone still feeling real in a way where their identities don't define them but are in NO WAY erased at all, like they're real people. When comparing the two series you can see the similar storyline but now its so much fresher and with new characters, their decisions in these situations change. Follows the story of multiple characters in their teen years and learning to deal with being a teen or in some cases having to make adult decisions despite that. Currently up to episode 5 but there is still so much more to come.

1998sims is also the creator behind Avoiding Fate, Its Complicated (currently not available online) and the most iconic series that I HIGHLY suggest you watch; My Sims 2 Emo Teen Pregnancy Kidnapping Story

SOUP - SimFilm

This sims 3 voice over series is brand new, as of this month, with one episode released but I'm already in love with it. It has this deadpan sense of humour I can get behind and I'm really looking forward to seeing where it goes. It appears the episodes will be short and sweet but I really don't mind at all.

Our protagonist, Harris Gold, alphabetizes his life's misfortunes like a can of alphabet soup.

I quote "looks pretty decent on the outside, but when you open the can, you'll simply want to kill yourself"

The filming is wonderful, I love the voice actors and how well they play their roles, the story so far is fun and silly but deals with really strong issues other teenagers might have experienced growing up. Kind of like laughing the pain away and I adore it.

Raison D'etre - Cornymio

I haven't watched a lot of sims 4 machinima if im to be honest (since life to death stories are so rampant on YouTube at the moment and I'd rather just avoid them) but this series was very well made. Only 2 episodes but the voice acting is amazing, the sims custom animations are wonderful and at times the sims can be almost perfectly lip synced to the voices. Has an indie film vibe that I adore, very calming and I adore the camera work. This is a revamp of the creators old Sims 3 series by the same title.

Reine Reynolds enrols herself into a new school, here we meet a variety of students who are all relatable in one way or another with different relationships amongst themselves. A nice watch and won't take long to get through.

Marry Me! - Tickled007

This is actually a companion piece to Marry You by Maot Productions. Marry You has more episodes and progressed it's story much further but personal preference I like Marry Me!'s characters and humour better. Not a fault to the creators though, since I believe they wrote both stories together and I do still recommend you go watch Marry You as well, just my personal taste. I also watched this very recently which is probably why it's on my mind rn.

Marry Me! Is a 2 episode long (so far) voice over series that's quite high energy, it's about a loud "bitch" fashion designer called Serafie and a "pushover" called Carmion. Two opposites that somehow cross paths and after a money hiccup, Seraphie demands that Carmion marry her. I love how silly it is, very kdrama inspired. If you can get past the overused swooping sfx in episode one (which drove me insane but will go away in episode 2) I think it's super enjoyable.

Tickled007 is also the creator of Passcode Unknown, Too Popular and And... Obvious.

I feel it unfair not to mention Maot Productions other creations either since they were also a big part of the Marry Me! Marry You project. They created Sense Me Not!, Corrupted Souls, Cruel Temptation and Retribution

Other simmers and their series that I highly recommend but realise this ask is going to get extremely long

EkolarasMagnum

Their series tend to have this grungy highschool feel to them but I get behind it. They're known for their more interesting sims style, some people love it, some people hate it but it shouldn't get in the way of the interesting stories. I used to adore their work so much as a teenager!

- Advocated

- Strangers

- Volatile

PumpkinsAtTheDisco

Made a variety of sims series based on books (before these same books were made into films) such as the Hunger Games. This creator is incredibly talented from filming, writing to composing their own music. You can really see their improvement over the years too. I love their work.

- The Hunger Games

- Miss Peregrines Home For Peculiar Children

- Dimension 17

- Post Icarus

- Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

StarsToShinex

Their concepts are fun and they have good voice actors. Their filming and editing is nice but their work does have an anime feel if that's more your taste.

- Spotlight

- My guardian

- My guardian- the next chapter

- Seeking Faith

- The last day

MajesticFilms

Their aesthetics are lovely, they make a lot of visually pleasing machinima. I admire their editing.

- Paper Boats

- Arsonist's Lullaby

- Sounds of Silence

- Machinima playlist

ViNtAgELovv11

Still works on videos now and I adore their work, been around for 10 years and only continuing to improve. I believe their most known series wou lkd have to be wasteland but please check out their newer works too!

- Scum City

- Wasteland

- Wonderland

- Runaway

- ROADS

There are so much more and i might make a pt.2 or something along those lines one day since this ask is getting long. But I also have a list of simmers and series on my navigation page if you want to search through some more works.

Episode 10... Oh shit, Alice Cooper was a Serpent...?

Teens partying!! Fuck yeah!!!

She is the Queen of Chaos, Jug. I doubt she gives a crap about order.

Teens partying!! FUCK YEAH!!

All of his line? Iconic.

I understand why he and Hermione broke up, but I’m not happy about it :(

All of her lines? Also iconic.

Would it, FP? Would it?

She’s adorable, trying to give her Emo Boyfriend a surprise party. What could go wrong? EVERYTHING!

Some might say he’s weird. A weirdo. Has anyone ever seen him without his stupid hat? That’s weird.

The Scooby Gang:

Your face does not match your advice, ma’am.

I shit on Jughead a lot for some of the stuff he says, but I kinda related to his stance on birthdays. The idea that we pretend like our lives are picture perfect a handful of days a year while ignoring the core problems. Yeah, that does feel lonely when you think about it.

Veronica:

Out of everyone she has the MOST iconic lines.

Teens drinking?? WHY NOT. This is the quintessential party episode after all.

Of course she’d team up with this dick. The most predictable thing about Cheryl is her inherent need to ruin other people’s lives to make herself feel better. I hope she gets better in later seasons.

The face you make when your dad threatens you by threatening your mom. **Hey, Riverdale writers, why is it so goddamn hard to find a good parent in this series. Fred Andrews is literally the bar, and I know it’s hard to compete with perfection, but come on give it a go**

Can we get a show just staring these three? I’d watch it.

Yeah! I mean, Kevin you poor misguided soul, but yeah! **Btw, I KNOW Joaquin likes Kevin a lot, but he is still kinda, sorta using him**

It’s loving Jughead hour! **again, I give him shit, but he does deserve a hug or two... except for when he pointed out that Kevin wasn’t his friend. Bullshit, give that hug back, Jug**

This is the only character who could say this line unironically.

Again, only Riverdale’s Jughead could say these words and mean them 100%.

**bebe rexa’s bad bitch plays in the background**

Archie is the dancing queen! Young and sweet only... “fifteen? or something?”

The Agents of Shield’s arch nemesis.

I have never related to Jughead harder than I do in this screenshot.

"Jughead, it is I, your father.”

Thanks for remembering that Kevin is gay and dating Joaquin, Riverdale. I nearly forgot with how little screen time you give him **btw, hey Riverdale, I’d enjoy this show more if Kevin got more screen time... just saying**

Ooh, listen to that zinger. How long do you think he stood there, thinking up a clever line?

Parental Supervision, Ronnie. Next question.

Betty:

*rockwell’s somebody’s watching me plays in the background*

This speech? Iconic! 10/10! Would listen again!

When you realized you fucked up.

I see the Andrews decorated for Halloween... ten months early.

I know we were all thinking it, but I wasn’t going to say anything.

Like I said, he was there for parental supervision.

I should’ve known. She has that shady aura about her; almost snake like.

I still say she had something to do with Jason’s murder. Fight me.

Aww, he slept on the floor. Fred Andrews raised him right.

Not gonna lie, they have better chemistry than Jughead and Betty.

Aww, he CAN smile.

Veronica:

Oh boy!!! Buying your daughter’s love I see, Hiram. Father of the year...

**harp music** Mooooooolly Ringwaaaaaaald

Okay, so... yeah more suspects were just added to the list but again no real questions were actually answered. They’re gonna drag out this mystery to the very last second aren’t they? Figures.

So, yeah, I’m not gonna lie. This:

Was where my head was at for most of Cheryl and Jason’s scenes. Like, I get that they were close (I’m close with my brother), but the way the show depicted their relationship... *shakes head*

Anyway, yeah, I’m going to go watch episode 11 now.

TAYLOR SWIFT - LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO [4.39] Man, look what she made US do.

Elisabeth Sanders: Here is the thing about Taylor Swift: anybody that has truly loved (despite themselves) Taylor Swift has done so because of her sharp, frightening edges, because of the way in which she is the mean girl in the midst of a panic attack, because she's petty, because she's crazy, because she believes in things and at the same time when those things aren't as they seem wants to crush them in the palm of her hand. Any interpretation of Taylor Swift that doesn't incorporate this is simply bad research. In 2006: "Go and tell your friends that I'm obsessive and crazy--There's no time for tears / I'm just sitting here, planning my revenge." In 2010: "And my mother accused me of losing my mind /But I swore I was fine /You paint me a blue sky /And go back and turn it to rain /And I lived in your chess game /But you changed the rules every day /Wondering which version of you I might get on the phone, tonight /Well I stopped picking up and this song is to let you know why" In 2012: "Maybe we got lost in translation / maybe I asked for too much / or maybe this thing was a masterpiece / til you tore it all up." And finally, in 2014, a culmination of the songwriting combined with the publicity--well, just listen to "Blank Space." I can't quote the whole thing. At the time it was brilliant, a parody that dipped just enough into the real, a joke about both media extrapolation and actual content. But we're past the time for parody. It came, it was good, it went. The criticism still followed, for other reasons, for deeper reasons, for real reasons. Along with, I'm sure, superficial ones. But if "Blank Space" was Taylor Swift's petty Gone Girl fan fiction, "Look What You Made Me Do" is the unfortunate chapter in which we have to acknowledge that the fiction was never that self-aware, and that an excavation of complication, when confronted with complicated times, sometimes reveals not a complex sympathetic maybe-villain, but simply a person not equipped to be making mass art right now. Taylor's pettiness, her villainy, her strangeness, has always been her most interesting feature. Maybe, now, too many years into seeing but not seeing it, it's just--not that interesting anymore. She's not your friend, and she's not your enemy, she's just--well. As she says, "I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me." I think that might be her final truth. [3]

Stephen Eisermann: I've never been a big Taylor Swift fan -- I like her music well enough, but there was always something about the details she painted and the cards she showed that it felt a bit... made-up. Still, I always had a weird feeling that Taylor and I had very similar personalities and personal life trajectories (bear with me) and this song reinforces that. When I was younger and "straight" (16-18), I was very quiet, nice to a fault, and introverted. Thanks to my name and skin color, a lot of (racist) older people always said it was hard to believe I was a Mexican teenager because I was so quiet, polite, well-spoken and bright. Much like Swizzle during the "Taylor Swift" and "Fearless" era, I was considered naive but genuine-hearted and people loved to love my niceness. However, I soon started coming to terms with my sexuality and started being a bit more open with myself and others about who I truly was, just like we saw glimpses of pure pop and more evocative lyrics in "Speak Now" and "Red." I still built stories and a narrative that painted me as more mystery than gay, just as Taylor toed the line between squeaky clean young adult and Lolita, but I was a bit more willing to explore. Soon after, the inevitable happened and I finally had my first NSFW encounter with a man, and was even MORE willing to be who I really was. I let my gay flag fly and if people asked, I wouldn't dance around the question, but own who I was. Taylor didn't hesitate one bit when she announced 1989 would be a pop album in its entirety, and I didn't so much was stutter when telling questioning friends my realization. Still, a part of me hid things from ass-backwards family members and people who I knew wouldn't "understand," just as Sweezy continued to play the victim card to hold on to some of the innocence that was slowly falling through her fingertips like sand on the last day of vacation. However, there is only so much sand one hand can hold and BAM -- my family became aware of my sexuality and Taylor was exposed. I was at a crossroads -- do I drop my family and throw out ALL the dirty chisme I had accumulated over the years at different holidays, effectively exposing the most bigoted family members, or do I keep my mouth shut and weather the hate, being all the stronger for it? I wanted so badly to be vindictive and evil, but I choose the high road for reasons I'm not really sure I can effectively communicate. Taylor, however, has opted for the darker route. "LWYMMD" lacks detail, yes, but it's intentional. I just... I just know it. She has secrets up her sleeves she will soon reveal -- nobody willingly takes the villainous role without ammo, and Taylor has been MANY things throughout her career, but unprepared is not one of them. This song is calculated, petty, unnecessary, and very much beneath her, but it allows me to live vicariously through her and I want her to drag her detractors just as I want to drag my family members through the mud they continue to think I belong in. And just as my bigoted family members will get theirs, so will Taylor's enemies, I'm sure. [10]

Will Rivitz: "I think I have a part to play in this drama, and I have chosen to be the villain. Every good story needs a bad guy, don't you think?" -Lorelei Granger, Frindle (Andrew Clements, 1996) [9]

David Moore: Phonogram: The Immaterial Girl Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie (Image Comics, 2015) Synopsis: Years ago, a young woman obsessed with music videos and mythic pop celebrity made a deal with the King Behind the Screen -- she gave up half of herself to gain the mystical power needed to eventually lead a coven of music obsessives. Now the deal's gone sour, and her darker, sacrificed self has switched places to destroy the coven with an ill-advised electroclash revival. [7]

Alfred Soto: Electronic swoops, piano on the bridge, lots of boom boom bap -- this single could be the new St. Vincent, or, to return to once upon a long time ago, to a track from Lorde's estimable Melodrama, a flop also largely co-written with Jack Antonoff. A skeptic of her first singles since 2009, I approached "Look..." with caution; on the evidence she's anticipated this caution. "I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me," she sings while soap opera strings add the requisite melodrama, and for a moment I thought she sang "I don't trust my body." I've never cared about biographical parallels in any art, especially in popular art where the insistence feels like conscription; the blank space where she wants the audience to write his/her/whatever's name is a sop to us. Less persuasive is the talk-sung part informing her audience that the "old Taylor" is "dead," as if Fearless fans needed an 808 dug into their faces. It will sound terrific on the radio. I'll skip it when I buy the album. [5]

Crystal Leww: The emerging narrative of Jack Antonoff as the next king of pop production is perplexing because his resume is honestly pretty thin. It's unclear what Antonoff actually brings to the table other than an amplification factor; Antonoff's songs have only been as good as his collaborators. This works when artists are working with a strong vision they can execute against -- e.g., CRJ's "in love and feeling like a teen again" on "Sweetie," Lorde's earnest wide open heartbreak on Melodrama. It is damning if artists are falling into their worst habits. Taylor Swift is a very solid songwriter -- it's nearly impossible to have the kind of career she had in country music if you're not -- but it always falls back on specificity, the emotional connection that she can forge with her fans when she knows what she's trying to convey. "Look What You Made Me Do" fails because it's unclear what it's about -- is this song about haters? Kim and Kanye? Her exes? The media? -- and Antonoff using Right Said Fred makes it all seem very clunky. The song sounds like it could have really leaned into a psycho ex-girlfriend vibe, but it's not self-aware, not funny, not sure of itself. Ultimately, "Look What You Made Me Do" isn't awful, but it's not catchy, which is its worst sin of all. Taylor Swift's still a decent songwriter ("Better Man" was great; "I've been looking sad in all the nicest places" almost made up for that Zayn collab), but this isn't even yucky -- it's just kinda boring. [4]

Katherine St Asaph: The curse continues. Maybe it's that the past month I've been listening to very little but "Anatomy of a Plastic Girl" by The Opiates and "Justice" by Fotonovela and Sarah Blackwood, and here's the exact conceptual midpoint. I've heard comparisons to electroclash, NIN, mall emo, Lorde, but I hear more Jessie Malakouti or Britney on Original Doll: frantic tabloid petulance, slightly updated with a "Problem" anti-chorus, but otherwise things I like. Otherwise, Swift's style has not changed: self-referential ("actress" and "bad dreams" shuffle her images to make her the heel) and threaded with subliminals ("tilted stage" is literal, "kingdom keys" keeps up with the konsonance) Just as "Dear John" parodied its subject's lite-blooz guitar, "Look What You Made Me Do" parodies the austere tracks of 808s and Heartbreak on, like "Love Lockdown" in curdled Midwestern vowels: trading soporific for loaded. The song has inevitably become about everything but itself. Her milkshake duck brought all the boys to the yard, and they're like, this is garb, and I'm like, the Internet deplorables haven't adopted this in any better faith than they did Depeche Mode; any of pop's myriad songs about the tabloids would read as "political" if transplanted into 2017 (is Lindsay Lohan's "Rumours" about FAKE NEWS?), and Swift's suffocatingly prescriptive "Southern" "values" pre-Red were as politically suspect as this, and more insidious. The next salvo of attack: its rollout being unprecedentedly gimmicky and exploitative, never mind how aforementioned Depeche Mode did the same pre-order thing, or Britney Spears upholstered-carpetbombed "Pretty Girls" in everyone's Ubers, or Rihanna's Talk That Talk was launched with gamified "missions", or Srsly Legit Band Arcade Fire spent months on fake Stereogum posts and fake Ben and Jerry's. Doesn't help that when Taylor is bad, she's stunningly, loudly bad; the second verse, in its magnification of the cringiest parts of "Shake It Off" and "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together," seems to last forever. (The phone call is fine, though; no one had a problem with "How Ya Doin'" or, like, "Telephone.") It's no good for catharsis, definitely not relatable, maybe on purpose: like being too sexy for your shirt, all you feel is cold. [6]

Katie Gill: On the one hand, Taylor using the language of abusers in the chorus of her song is clueless at best and worrisome at worst. On the other hand, blatantly riffing off of "I'm Too Sexy" is a surprisingly smart choice for a chorus and I'm shocked that I can't think of anyone who's tried it before with this level of success. But on the one hand, for a song about how she's getting smarter and harder, the lyrics don't reflect that, giving us some petty Regina George level nonsense instead of anything remotely resembling depth or nuance. But then again, that snake is pouring Taylor Swift some tea and all the Taylor Swifts are beating up the other Taylor Swifts in a battle royale hahaha this video is so amazingly dumb. I guess I'll split the difference and give it a [5]

Alex Clifton: I've always wanted give-no-fucks Taylor Swift, but I'm dying for context, as this album (and sing) will sink or swim based entirely on the narrative she creates. She's clearly setting herself on fire in order to rebrand herself, although I question her self-awareness. The music video indicates yes, with a brilliant 30-second scene featuring various Taylors mocking each other. Yet "Look What You Made Me Do" is also curiously passive, with a reactionary title and a bored chorus--more a sign of privilege and status. The ambiguity between honest, wronged victim and villainous persona here is intriguing, especially given Swift's penchant for earnestness; obviously she cannot be both, but the tension drives the song. The song itself is a mixed bag; Swift returns to the messy rapping last heard on "Shake It Off" with an equally cringey spoken-word interlude, but her voice is simutaneously delicate and confident as she comes out swinging. While I love seeing Blood!Swift writing a hitlist of enemies like an evil Santa Claus and the hint of confronting the less attractive/more honest parts of her role in the spotlight, only time will tell whether this is truly a playful new direction or more of the same old tune. (Also, what did we make her do? The answer is classic Swift, diabolically obvious: we made her write a song about it.) [7]

Jessica Doyle: A week on I still hear more self-loathing than anything else. Nothing the supposed New Taylor offers up comes off particularly convincingly; there's no glee in her reinvention. Compare the way she rushes through honey-I-rose-up-from-the-dead when she once sounded like she was thoroughly enjoying Boys only want love when it's torture. She doesn't sound smarter, or harder; look what you made me do, when she's spent the last eighteen months making a point of not doing anything. There's no air in here, no space beyond the multiple annotated versions and multiple thinkpieces declaring her a walking horsebitch of the Trumpocalypse. Just Taylor Swift practicing telling herself to shut up, Taylor Swift wondering about karma, Taylor Swift reading Buzzfeed and taking careful notes, Taylor Swift unable to make a point about anything at all except Taylor Swift. You don't realize, when you're in the thick of it, that self-loathing is just as relentlessly, narrowly egotistical as any other kind of self-obsession. It gets old, finally. It wears you out. It wears everybody out. Right? Yes? Can we all agree to be worn out now? Are we going to allow her to move on? She can't rise up from the dead if we don't let her die first. [3]

Cassy Gress: There was a time when I thought 1989 pajama-parties-and-kittens Taylor was the "real Taylor." I don't know if that really was. What I do know is that trying to figure out who the "real Taylor" is, and arguing on the internet about it, is fucking exhausting. So much of her musical output has been autobiographical, or meant to sound generically autobiographical to women listeners; so much of her reads as "pussycat with claws." Sometimes she emphasizes the pussycat side, soft and vulnerable; "Look What You Made Me Do" is the claws side. But Taylor, who we know has the ability to be nuanced and evocative, is here transmitting her intent (to destroy Kanye, or Katy, or Hiddleston, or her old selves, or just to be the cleverest sausage) like a hammer to the skull. This, like much else about her, is exhausting to watch/listen to. I would much rather close the blinds and put on my headphones and watch GBBO reruns in my jammies. [2]

Olivia Rafferty: Washing in with the arrival of her sixth album are a tidal wave of thinkpieces on Swift, all set within the context of her A-list feuds, miscalculations and politics, or lack thereof. We've all sifted through stories of fake boyfriends, cheap shots and oblivious colonialism, and I'm going to speak for all of us when I say we probably should just all take a goddamn break from the vortex. I'm placing LWYMMD in a vacuum for now. Reaching into the embarrassing depths of my personal history, I can draw up two different past-Olivias who would be a perfect fit for this song. I'm gifting the verse, pre-chorus and middle eight to my 10-year-old self, and the chorus to my 17-year-old self. Olivia at 10 would lap up the overly-dramatic opening lines, the "I. Don't. Likes" and their thick punctuation. It's served with the attitude that would have made you want to stick on a crop top and pick up one of your tiny handbags to fling about during an ill-prepared dance routine -- no, Mum, it's not finished yet! And the moment of absolute pre-teen glory is the cheerleader delivery of the spoken half-verse, "the world moves on another day another drama drama," I can literally see the Beanie Baby music video re-enactment. All of these melodic aspects are playful but lack the precision or maturity you'd expect Swift to deliver on this "good girl grown up" song. When the chorus hits you suddenly mature into that 17 year-old whose friends-but-not-really-friends played that Peaches song at someone's house party. You could probably embarassingly attempt a slut-drop to it in your bedroom, pretending you're a dominatrix who's just split some milk on the floor. But the overall impression is that if Swift is trying to be naughty, sexy or dangerous, she's missed the mark a little. Now at 25 I'm listening and thinking that the chorus still snaps, but if this track was an attempt at sexualising Taylor in a way that's not been done before, it's only made it clear that she's still got a lot of growing up to do. [6]

Joshua Copperman: From the first bar chimes sound effect, I was worried, and I suppose my feelings didn't improve by the time the "tilted stage" line happened. On "Out Of The Woods", Antonoff and Swift brought out the best in each other (Jack's big choruses, Taylor's specific references), but on "Look What You Made Me Do", they bring out the worst (Jack's obnoxiousness, Taylor's pettiness.) Antonoff can do flamboyant earnestness, especially when it blends with Lorde's self-awareness and quirkiness; he just can't do dark and edgy. Or even campy, apparently: the glorious video mostly takes care of that, giving the song an intensity and glamour that it doesn't have nor deserve on its own. Yet even the video often misses the humor inherent in moments like the terrible rap in the second verse, or the already-infamous lift from "I'm Too Sexy". The ultimate effect is like John Green praising a burn of himself without realizing why the burn was deserved in the first place. In this case, it's one Taylor saying to another Taylor "there she goes, playing the victim, again", even though the preceding song couldn't even play the victim or villain well enough. [4]

Mo Kim: There was a time in my life when I looked up to Taylor Swift. I was eighteen once, clearing my throat of all the doubts that haunted it, and the only way I had to express myself was through songs about slights that exploded like firecrackers. But a voice with that strength comes with responsibility. Sometimes you need to stop reveling in the volume of your own speech to see the platform of power you stand on; otherwise you might build a version of yourself on the rickety foundation of innocence only to find it crashing down. On "Look What You Made Me Do," she's still trying for the pottery shard hooks that once made her so important to petty queer kids like me. It works in bits and spurts: that second verse is a bucket of water and an emergency siren to the face, and the pre-chorus utilizes a sinister piano and eerie vocal production to great effect. Too bad, then, that the flimsy chorus and winky-face lyrics cave in on themselves more easily than almost anything she's written before (like a house of cards, some might say). That it so blatantly abjects responsibility onto her audience, however, is the biggest point against it: instead of personability, or at least the pretense of it, there's just layer after layer of metanarrative. Instead of a telling that acknowledges her history -- a complicated, troubling, rich one -- there's just Queen Bee Taylor, sneering over a landfill heap of old Taylors before she discards of all her past selves. I used to hold stadiums in my chest as I listened to the stories Swift spun; now I feel like the lights have finally crackled out, and here she is, dithering in the debris of her crumbling empire, and here we are, looking down. [5]

Josh Love: If Taylor wants to go in, that's her prerogative, but because this is a song that none of us plebes can actually relate to, it's only fair to judge it solely based on whether it goes hard, and I'm sorry to report that Taylor has no bars. "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together" and "Shake It Off" seemed like wild stabs at first too, but they possessed an inclusivity that's curdled into Yeezus-level petulance here. There's nothing here to suggest she's capable of making Reputation her Lemonade. At least the video gives me some hope that maybe she realizes she's a complete dork. [3]

Anthony Easton: This is the hardest for me to grade, because I still don't know if it is good, but it is constructed in such a way that people like me (critic, liberal elitist, homosexual) are pressed to have opinions. It steals with such quickness, and with such weirdness that the opinions give birth to other opinons, somewhere between a snake hall and the ouroboros she already quotes. It sounds like Lorde, it samples Peaches, it plays with electroclash, which was a genre that was already heavily recursive. It tries to be without feeling, but it feels all too deeply. That is enough to spend time with, that is enough to unpack. It sounds like Lorde because they are both working with Jack Antonoff. Who is cribbing from who here? Is Lorde playing like Swift, is Swift cribbing Lorde's lankness, are both pulling outside of their influence, by the commercial, mainstreamed weirdness of Antonoff? Swift was always pretty; her main skill was using guile to a stiletto edge. This edges on ugliness, but it is still "ugly." Women like Peaches or the cabaret singer Bridgett Everett know how to sing, have the ambition to sing well, but chose to reject good taste for social and political power. Taylor playing with being ugly, with being flat, with kind of half singing, with no longer being the cheerleader, is not a formal refusal of beauty as a political means but has the louche boredom of a hanger-on, with maybe a bit of anger at not being cool enough. It's a capital blankness that raids and doesn't contribute. Part of the ugliness of Peaches, part of the joy of electroclash, is not only how it absorbs the amoral around it--Grace Jones, The Normal, Joy Division, Klaus Nomi--but that the sex of it works so hard. The fucking is less pleasure than hard work--the grit of dirt and sweat and bodies. When Swift quotes Peaches, she is quoting the reduction of pop to a stripping down of bodies through a formal aesthetic choice. When she quotes noir, it is an attempt to self-consciously think of herself as a body who is capable of doing real damage. Swift flatters herself as someone whose suicide could be a nihilist aesthetic gesture. She flatters herself as a fatale. She's still the kid who does damage, and plays naif. You can't be pretty and ugly. You can't be a naif fatale. You can't pretend not to care about gossip and make your career about what people think of you. You can only be so much of a feminist and rest on your producers this much, and you cannot play at louche blankness if it is so obvious how much work you are doing. This might suggest that I hate the song, but I can't. Swift doing an "ugly" heel turn fills me with poptimist longing, and I want to hear more. [9]

Eleanor Graham: There is a bit in an old Never Mind The Buzzcocks where Simon Amstell says to Amy Winehouse, "We used to be close! On Popworld, we were close." And Amy Winehouse runs her hand down his face and says, half-pityingly and to thunderous laughter, "She's dead." I don't really know why I'm bringing this up except to illustrate that a woman killing off her former self, against Joan Didion's worldly advice, has a kind of power. The crudest hyperbole. Like Amy in Gone Girl. You don't like this thing about me? You wish I was different? Well, guess what -- I'M DEAD! This line, which Swift delivers with the manic kittenish venom of Reese Witherspoon's character in Big Little Lies, is the only redeeming feature of "Look What You Made Me Do." And yet -- even as someone who has openly thrown politics to the wind in the face of such forever songs as "Style", "State of Grace" and "All Too Well" -- this single is too hallucinatory to be a flat disappointment. Quite aside from the Right Said Fred debacle, the "aw" is reminiscent of Julia Michaels, the second verse of a lobotomised Miz-Biz era Hayley Williams, the production ideas of a mid-2000s CBBC show, and the whole thing of a middle-aged man in a wig playing Sky Ferreira in an SNL skit. Disorientating. Almost euphorically horrible. Say what you want about T Swift, but who else is serving this level of pop Kafkaism in 2017? [2]

Maxwell Cavaseno: Weirdly, everything works for me sorta kinda with the second verse. The percussion thuds in the distance just a little more effectively, and Taylor's whining drone of a rap screams up into that high-pitched melodrama, only to crash and burn into an anemic "Push It," as written by someone who forgot Lady Gaga once could fool us into thinking she was funny. Past that subsection and prior, however, the record truly never clicks. You get the sense that Swift, someone so eagerly to seize the moment, doesn't realize that the horror campiness plays her hand too hard. [2]

Edward Okulicz: Saved from being her worst ever single by an out-of-nowhere, brilliant, Lorde-esque pre-chorus (and the existence of both "Welcome to New York" and "Bad Blood"), this is pretty thin gruel for the first single off a first album in three years. Remember how dense her songwriting used to be? See how clumsy it is on this. Taylor Swift's devolution from essential pop star to somewhat annoying head of a cult of personality is complete. At least there'll be better to come on the album. I hope. [4]

Rachel Bowles: I am guessing (and hoping) that "Look What You Made Me Do" is Reputation's "Shake It Off," a comparatively mediocre introduction to what is ostensibly a good album with some timeless songs ("Style" in particular on 1989). Functionally the same, both songs have to reintroduce Taylor in a new iteration to a cultural narrative she cannot be excluded from, both heavy on self-awareness and light on her signature musical flair. Where "Shake It Off" felt anodyne and compressed, "LWYMMD" is beautifully stripped back, chopping between lowly sung and rhythmically spoken word over a synthesiser, strings or a beat -- verses, bridges and middle 8's passing, though ultimately building to nothing -- the chorus of "LWYMMD" being the swirling void at its centre, one that cannot hold, however fashionable it is to build then strip to anti-climax in EDM and pop. What did Taylor do? The absence of her critical action, the bloody, thirsted-for revenge, can only leave us unsatisfied, like watching a Jacobean tragedy on tilted stage without the final release of death for all. What's left is a painful, public death of media citations of Taylor, played over and over, joylessly. [5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: 1989 is Taylor Swift's worst album, but that shouldn't necessarily be seen as a bad thing. For an artist whose vocal melodies were able to effectively drive a song forward, it was a bit odd hearing her rely so heavily on a song's instrumentation to do all the heavy lifting. Additionally, the painterly lyrics that drew me to her work in the first place were mostly abandoned for ones more beige (simply compare the most memorable lyrics from 1989 and any other album and it becomes very obvious). It didn't work out for the most part, but I was fine with the mediocrity. And considering how stylistically diverse the album was, I very much saw it as a stepping stone for a future project. Which is why I'm completely unsurprised by the doubling down of "Look What You Made Me Do" -- it's a lead single that's heavily tied to her media perception, finds her abandoning any sense of subtlety, and utilizes amelodic singing to put greater emphasis on the instrumentation itself. It's conceptually brilliant for all these reasons, but it doesn't come together all too well. Namely, the lyrics are almost laughably bad and distract from how physical the song can be, and her calculated attempts at announcing her self-awareness have reached the point of utter parody. That the music video ends with Swift essentially explaining the (unfunny) joke only confirms this. [3]

Rebecca A. Gowns: Every new Taylor Swift single is Vizzini from "The Princess Bride," letting us know that she knows that we know that she knows that we know that she is Taylor Swift, and since she knows that we know (etc. etc. etc.), she can be confident drinking the goblet in front of her, since she knows that she switched around the goblets when we weren't looking, and she's laughing like she's clearly outsmarted us, but little does she know that we've been building up an immunity to her odorless white poison for years. [2]

William John: The hyper-specificity is gone. There are no references here to paper airplane necklaces or dead roses in December or in-jokes written on notes left on doors. In their place, platitudes abound, choruses are forgotten, "time" rhymes with "time", and "drama" with "karma". The latter is pursued with a maniacal intensity, the parody spelled out rather brilliantly in "Blank Space" quickly undoing itself. Rather obviously, "Look What You Made Me Do" does not exist in a vacuum, and the timing and nature of its release are what render it particularly dismaying. Its author, not playing to her previously demonstrated strengths, is seemingly at great pains to fuel fire to certain celebrity feuds, all the while insisting on her exclusion from them. It wouldn't matter so much were she to denounce some of her new fans with the same fervour, but for some reason this era she's opted out of interviews, perhaps at the time when some explanation driven by someone outside her inner circle is most needed. It's one way to forge a reputation, indeed. I do like the way she screams "bad DREAMS!" though. [3]

Leonel Manzanares: An auteur whose entire schtick is about framing herself as a victim, now emboldened by the current climate to address "the haters" using the language of abuse, embracing villainhood. No wonder she's considered the ambassador of Breitbart Pop. [4]

Thomas Inskeep: "Don't you understand? It's your fault that I had to go and become a mean girl!" Yeah, okay, whatever, Ms. White Privilege. [2]

Anjy Ou: For the woman who singularly embodies white female privilege, it's kind of embarrassing that she doesn't have the range. [2]

Will Adams: If you had asked me three months ago, "Hey, between 'Swish Swish' and whatever Taylor Swift ends up putting out this year, which is the more embarrassing diss track?", I wouldn't have thought I'd need to think about the answer this much. [2]

Anaïs Escobar Mathers: "Taylor, you're doing amazing, sweetie," said no one. [1]

Sonia Yang: With an artist as polarizing as Swift, it's easy to make the conversation a messy knot about the real life conflicts she's had, but I find it more interesting to tune that all out and focus on the simplicity of her work as a standalone. "Look What You Made Me Do" is Swift at her most coldly bitter yet, but betrays the resignation of long buried hurt. It's "Blank Space" but with none of the fantastical fun; it toes the line between wary irony and jadedly "becoming the mask." Most telling is the dull echo of the song title in place of a real hook, which is actually a favorite point of mine. Reality doesn't always go out with a bang; it's more likely for one to reach a gloomy conclusion than stumbling upon a glorious epiphany. Musically, I'd call this an awkward transition phase for Taylor -- it's not her worst song ever, but it's admittedly underwhelming compared to the heights we've seen from her. However, I've sat through questionable attempts at reinvention from my favorite artists before and I'm still optimistic about the potential for Swift's growth after this. [7]

Jonathan Bradley: There is nothing Taylor Swift does better than revenge, and this is not that. This is the first Swift single that exists only in conversation with Swift's media-created persona -- even "Blank Space" turned on internally resolved narrative beats and emotional moments -- but it offers little for those who hear pop through celebrity news updates, not speakers or headphones. Compare "Look What You Made Me Do" to "Mean," a pointed and hurt missive that scarified its targets with dangerous care; this new single, however, barely extends beyond the bounds of Swift's own skull. "I don't like your little games," levels Swift, her voice venom, "the role you made me play." The central character -- the only character -- in this narrative is Swift, and she enacts an immolation. Her nastiness is the etiolated savagery of Drake in his more recent and loutish incarnation: lonely and lordly, "just a sicko, a real sicko when you get to know me." "I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time" could be Jesse Lacey on Deja Entendu but sunk into the abyss of The Devil and God -- only it's delivered over ugly, the Knife-like electro clanging. The line that succeeds is classic Swift in its brittle theatrics: "Honey, I rose up from the dead; I do it all the time." The spoken-word bridge -- the song's most blatantly campy and deliciously gothic moment -- acts as a witchy incantation, walking most precariously the line between winking vamp and public tantrum. Swift has brought her monstrous birth to the world's light; contra the title, what it is we've made her do isn't even apparent yet. [8]

Lauren Gilbert: I was 18 when "Fearless" was released, and listened to it on repeat my first term of undergrad, feeling freedom and joy and hope. I listened to "We Are Never Getting Back Together" on repeat in an on-again-off-again relationship that should have ended years before it did. I listened to 1989 over and over again after recovering from a nervous breakdown and for the first time, really, truly focused on choosing a life of joy. I should be Here For This. I am not. Pop music thrives on specificity, and Taylor Swift in particular has made a career of writing about hyperspecific situations. This is... generic; it could be sung by Katy Perry, by a female Zayn, by Kim K herself. Taylor offers no hooks to her own life here, and perhaps that's not a flaw; female songwriters have the right to choose not to expose their own lives, and to write the same generic pop song nonsense that everyone else does. But as someone who bought into the whole TSwift authenticity brand -- even while I recognized it as a brand, even while I knew that she was a multimillionaire looking out for her own interests first and foremost, even as she was the definition of a Problematic Fav -- I can't really say I care that much about new Taylor. I could fault Taylor's politics and personality -- and I'm sure other blurbs will -- but the primary failing here isn't Taylor's non-music life. It's that there's no feeling here; it feels as cynical as the line "another day, another drama". Next. [4]

Andy Hutchins: "I'm Too Sexy" + "Mr. Me Too" - basically any of the elements that made "Mr. Me Too" compelling = "Ms. I'm Sexy, Too." [4]

Tara Hillegeist: Let's leave this double-edged sword hang here for a minute: Taylor Swift's personhood is irrelevant to the reality that she is a better creator than she ever gets credit for. Since her earliest days of the demo CDs she'd like to keep buried, Taylor Swift has never been less interesting or more terrible on the ears than when her songs are forcibly positioned as autobiography. For a decade she has cultivated an audience of lovers and haters alike that never felt her--or truly felt for her--because she never wanted them to know her, driven to own her brand even as she's deliberately averred to own up to what lies behind it. Witness the framing of an Etch-a-Sketch of a song like "Look What You Made Me Do": she releases a song about vengeful self-definition mere weeks after finally winning a years-long case against a man who sexually assaulted her and tried to sue her to silence over it on the sheer strength of her own self-representation, and the air charges itself with intimations that she instead meant it for Katy Perry, whose flash-in-the-pan "friendship" she publicly and memorably disowned in a bad song about bad blood an entire album ago, or perhaps Kim Kardashian-West, a woman whose "feud" with her arguably began with Taylor Swift's attempt to paint herself as the victim in an argument with Kim's husband but ended inarguably and decisively in Kim's favor. To claim someone would mangle her targets so ineptly even the conspiracy theorists have to resort to half-guesses and deliberate misquotes to draw out the barbs is a claim it's especially ridiculous to pin on a musician like Taylor Swift, a control freak who once built a labyrinth of personal references into an album full of songs about protagonists nothing like herself just to prove a point to anyone listening to them that closely about how sturdy the songs would be without knowing any of it. A public conversation that misses the point this drastically can only occur if there's a deliberately blank space where any sense of or interest in the person it's about could exist. There is a hole where this most powerfully self-determining popstar lives where a human life has never been glimpsed--because she cast that little girl and her frail voice aside years ago in search of something altogether more influential than such a weak vessel could ever hold. The girl who cajoled her family into spending enough Merrill-Lynch money to cover for her inability to sing until she had enough professional training to sing the songs she wanted to put to her name was never the girl who could truly be a flight risk with a fear of falling, was never the girl who never did anything better than revenge. But she wanted to be the girl who sang the words for that girl, who put her words in that girl's mouth, more than anything else in the world. She staked her name on nothing less than her ability to capitalize on the reputation she acquired. The Taylor Swift of Fearless and Speak Now was a Taylor Swift who believed she could be someone else in your mind, a songwriter dexterous enough to slip between gothic pop, americana-infused new wave, and pop-punk piss-offs without shaking that crisply machine-tooled Pennsylvania diction. A decade on, she's learned a lesson enough women before her already learned it's shocking she wasn't ready for it: when you're a girl and you make something about being a girl, everyone thinks you just had yourself in mind. The proof that she was more than that--more than the songs on the radio, you might say--was always there; it wasn't hidden, it wasn't obscured. But from Red onwards that Taylor began to die; a straighter Taylor Swift emerged in more ways than just her hair, all the kinks ironing themselves out in favor of her remodeling herself into a different sort of someone else's voice. Where once stood a Taylor Swift who sang for the sake of seeing her words sung by someone else's mouth back to her, there now stood a Taylor Swift who sang everyone else's words about her back to them. Tabloids cannot resurrect a life that a woman never lived, and no amount of retrospective sleight of hand about the girl she might have lied about being can hide the truth that neither can she. Conspiracy theories only flourish when people treat the mystery of human motives like a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be solved--ignoring that she already made it clear that was, still and always, the wrong answer to the questions she wouldn't let them ask. She wanted fame, she wanted a reputation; she wanted them on terms she defined; she never wanted anything else half as much as she wanted that. She has used every means available to her to earn them. Her awkward adolescence took a backseat to her life's dream of conquering America's radio. It's no shock, then, that all this gossip-mongering rings as hollow as a crown. The messy melodrama of Southern sympathy and thin-voiced warbles that defined the sweethearted ladygirls of generations before her and beside her and will define those that come after her, the sloppy humanities of Britney and Dolly and Tammy and Leann and Kesha Rose; these fumbling honesties, these vulnerabilities have never been tools in Taylor's narrative repertoire the way she uses the white girlhood she shares with them has been. She owned her protagonists' anxieties; but those songs have never defined her. This was always the moral to the story of Taylor Swift, to anyone--condemning or compassionate--who cared to really hear it: behind her careful compositions and obsessive pleas, Taylor Swift was never interested in making herself a real person at all. That would have cost her everything she ever wanted. And we, the Cicerone masses, ought very well to ask ourselves, before we let that double-edged sword finally fall: would it have been any more worth it, to anyone, if she had been? [2]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

The Foxhole Court, Chapter 12 – Road Trip To Embarrass… Who Again?

In which the squad goes to a talk show, wake-up calls go wrong, Neil goes live on national television, shipping goes well, and I go nuts, just a little bit.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Foxhole Court.

Hey, remember two chapters ago when we were promised some prime Road Trip To Embarrass Kevin time? Well, guess what's fucking happening.

          Wymack warned them last night they’d have an early start today, but there was no way the Foxes could start the season without a small party. (…) The upperclassmen put away most of a bottle of vodka even without Neil and Renee helping them. At the time they all thought it would be worth it. After getting less than an hour of sleep, Neil wasn’t so sure.

Ahahaha, literally me at the time writing this.

6hr bus journey – on which you really need to work – at 9 in the morning? Better stay up till 4 drinking wine!!

Don’t be like me, kids.

Unimportant detail: They stop at a gas station for morning fast food, which I liked because I was literally reading this at a fast food gas station.

Here, Wymack attempts to wake everyone up, and I enjoy the return of my favourite running gag:

           “Hemmick! You were supposed to wake them up ten minutes ago!”

           “I don’t want to die,” Nicky said. (…)

          Wymack went all the way to the last row, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, and threw it at Andrew. Judging by the resounding thud, Andrew woke up as violently as always.

Ahhh yes, nothing like a good ol’ bit of physical violence to greet the day <3

Although: That’s kind of smart, actually. Why did no one else ever think to just throw things at Andrew from a safe no-hit distance?

(Because Wymack is the best, that’s why.)

However apparently, Andrew isn’t the only one with weird sleeping habits:

           Wymack planted his shoe against whatever part of Kevin was closest and started pushing him.

           “Up,” he said over and over, getting louder each time until he was almost shouting. “Get your ass up and moving!”

What follows is an amazing description of a Kevin that just won’t wake up. Like, dude has to run laps down the bus and still almost falls asleep mid-run, putting new meaning into the term running gag.

Also, what level of #iconic and #relatable.

           Wymack smacked the back of his head to wake him up.

          “I hate you,” Kevin said.

           “Breaking news: I don’t care.”

BREAKING NEWS: I DON’T CARE. I have that on a shirt!! It’s part of my modern Grantaire cosplay and I love it to bits. Cue me actually squealing when that happened.

Today on A List of Plot Details That Will Come Back To Bite Me In The Ass At Some Point:

           Kevin dug Andrew’s medicine out of his pocket and handed the bottle over. He and Wymack watched as Andrew tipped a pill into his hand and swallowed it dry. (…)

          Odd, Neil thought, that Kevin would have Andrew’s medicine at all. Kevin had it at Sweetie’s, too.

He’s keeping his medicine for him? Why? The obvious answer would be ‘so he can make sure Andrew takes it’, but I feel like there’s more to it. And why Kevin? Surely Coach or Abby would be the more sensible and responsible candidates. Because they spend the most time together? This is all real shady, you guys.

They arrive at Kathy Ferdinand’s show, and this is where thing get interesting. She comes out to greet them – in the parking lot, might I add, which… the fuck? – and something else comes out as well: Actual traces of charm and positivity in Kevin ‘Stoic and Mighty, All Hail Unto Him’ Day.

           This smile was something else, this was Kevin’s public face. It was meant for interviewers and fans who were better off not knowing the arrogant, ruthless side of a world-class champion. Kevin looked every inch a perfect celebrity. Neil found it horribly disorienting.

And Nicki found it horribly hilarious. I can just imagine Kevin smiling warmly, stance relaxed, a charming eyecandy celeb to everyone, except when you get up real close you can see the actual violent murder in his eyes.

Wonderful.

And now it’s time for this chapter’s ~plot twist~ that ~absolutely no one saw coming~:

           “Did you talk to him?” Kathy asked Kevin.

           “I didn’t think we needed to talk about it,” Kevin said.

           “About what?” Neil asked.

           “I want you on my show this morning,” Kathy said.

Yes. Yes yes yes yes. Did someone say Road Trip To Embarrass Kevin? I feel like this turned into much more of a Road Trip To Embarrass Neil and I am loving it.

This is going to be good.

Also, what the hell is it with Kevin and not telling people about important things? “Oh, by the way we’re going halfway across the state to be on one of the highest-rated talk shows in the nation tomorrow, no biggie you guys”, “Oh, by the way, Neil you’re also going to be on said highest-rated talk show even though I know you’re hiding a shitpile of secrets the size of the Kilimanjaro, yeah no, no need to tell you beforehand you’ll be fine, see me give a shit”.

Neil, of course, has the freak-out of his life, and allows himself a tiny slip-up that will no doubt come back to kick his ass later:

           “It’s not your decision,” Neil said in venomous French. He didn’t realize what he’d done wrong until he felt Wymack’s piercing stare. Andrew’s lot knew Neil spoke French. Neil could explain it to the upperclassmen later and they wouldn’t think twice about it. But Wymack, like Andrew, had also heard Neil speak fluent German.

Oui oui, mon ami, tu as… ah, how you say… fucked up. #languageskillsoutforwymack

However, no Neil freak-out too big for Kevin ‘I Don’t Have Time For Your Teen Angst Bullshit’ Day:

            “You will do this today, or you and I are finished. I will wash my hands of you on the court and you can struggle your way through mediocrity alone. You can return your court keys to Coach when we get back to campus. You won’t need them anymore.”

           It was like getting punched in the chest. “That isn’t fair.”

           “Did you, or did you not promise me that you would try?”

Of course, we can’t say no to that. Love those lil daily doses of Kevin/Neil in between <3

(What’s their ship name? Keil? Nevin? I’m not loving either option.)

Why is he so set on having Neil on that show, though? Just to get him used to being in the public eye because he promises him such a bright future in Exy and knows this is an important part of it? Or is there more to it? Am I reading too much into things again? I’m intrigued.

Ah, I’m sorry, did I say little doses of Kevin/Neil? THINK AGAIN.

           Neil closed his eyes. “Why did you tell the ERC I would make Court?”

           “Because when you stop being impossible and do what I tell you, you will.”

           Andrew hadn’t lied. The articles hadn’t lied. Despite Kevin’s angry words and rude impatience, Kevin believed in Neil’s potential. Kevin wanted to train Neil. He wanted to play with Neil, and he wanted to shape Neil into the star he’d once been. Kevin would never forgive Neil for vanishing on him without warning this fall, and Neil hated that. As complicated as Neil’s obsession with Kevin was, one truth was undeniable: He didn’t want Kevin to hate him.

Hello everyone, I am reporting live from my fucking grave.

GAHHHHHHHHHH. Nothing like a bit of enemies-to-friends trope to get me going.

In other news: Feels over, dicks tucked back into pants, it’s show time!

           Kathy beamed as she slowly paced the front of the stage. “How many of you had the chance to go to the game last night? Oh, wow! How many, like me, watched the game from the comfort of their own home?” She raised her hand and laughed at whatever response she got from the crowd.

This woman is increasingly reminding me of Caesar Flickerman from The Hunger Games.

Just imagine this is how I’m picturing her now at all times, minus the blue hair (probably).

           “Kevin, Kevin, Kevin”, Kathy said, shaking her head in tie to his name. “I still can’t believe I talked you into this. I hope you’ll forgive me when I say it’s surreal to have you back here alone! I still think of you as one half of a whole.”

           “At least I have room to stretch out now,” Kevin said, neatly avoiding a real answer. “I might have to do so in a minute. I can’t believe you expect us to be awake and presentable after last night’s games.”

Is that…… Kevin…….. actually giving charismatic answers……. being an actual human being……. what kind of witchcraft.

I am loving this.

The interview goes on, it’s kind of banal chatter, nothing we didn’t know already, although I am enjoying it tremendously. It’s nice to have a break from all the emo-ing around back home at Palmetto, even if it’s all fake show smiles.

Time for the fakest show smile of them all: Neilly baby!

           “Why don’t we all take another look at him?” Kathy said. “Let’s see the man who replaced Riko Moriyama at Kevin’s side. Introducing Neil Josten, the newest Palmetto Fox!”

Yikes. What an introduction.

           “Isn’t this an interesting picture?” Kathy asked the audience. “Kevin is paired again.”

Seriously, can she stop.

I mean, I get that it’s good for show biz, and I don’t blame her as she doesn’t know their backstory, but rubbing this shit into their faces is still Grade A Shitty™.

They chat a bit more, bla bla sportsball, Kathy Flickerman asking questions and Neil lying through his teeth, although I’m surprised homeboy doesn’t get at least one “I’m fine” in somewhere.

And then – the absolute fuckery that this entire chapter had being leading up to happens.

           “Why the major [district] change?”

           “I don’t presume to understand Coach Moriyama’s motivations.”

           “You mean they didn’t tell you?” Kathy’s surprise looked genuine.

           “We are all very busy. It’s difficult to keep in touch.”

           “Well then.” Kathy recovered with a bright smile. “Have I got a treat for you!”

What.

           Music blared from the speakers, a dark melody with heavy drums. The crowd jumped to its feet and started chanting in unison: “King! King! King!”

What.

           He spotted the Foxes easily, as they were the only unmoving bodies in the crowd. They sat blank-faced with shock.

Same. What.

           The man who stepped onto the stage wore the same outfit Kevin did, save his version was black from head to toe. (…) The number one tattooed on his left cheekbone told everyone who’d just walked onto Kathy’s stage.

ARE YOU ACTUALLY SHITTING ME. I did not see that coming. I did NOT see that coming holy fuck.

(We only have two chapters left. Logically, something had to happen. Still. WHAT THE FUCK.)

           It had been nine months since Riko Moriyama and Kevin Day stood in the same room together, nine months, since Riko destroyed Kevin’s hand, and now they were reunited on national television.

Oh boy. I am sure there is absolutely no way in hell this can go horribly, horribly wrong.

EXCUSE ME WHILE I IMMEDIATELY READ THE NEXT CHAPTER BRB

Love Victor 2x10 (aka S2 Finale) Semi-liveblogging

Oh to end on a Wedding, We shall see what happens. Spoilers, just my thoughts in the moment-ish

They should have wrote Victor and Guest... Awkward

I like weddings, but now that, idk... I just wonder if I will bring a girl to a wedding any time

also if any of you get LGBTQ married, I want in. Send me an invite even if I can't come, and send me your registry.

Get a tumblr Victor, plenty of well meaning queer ppl here, lol

I thought it would be Pilar, and then... and then she can figure out the Felix thing

For a split second I thought Rahim was Felix with neat hair, good job eyeballs...

blazer napkins, I'm

Okay, Rahim kiss at the end of the ep for sure!

I would "love" to go with you. Stop that

Lol, I do tell my rush I "love" spending time with her, or there way she gushes about topics. Lol...

Victor, your smile is huge

Don't try to related Shelby was it?

Just.. just leave

Mando, there's his name. Armando, sorry Mr Salazar, I always forget

I don't think he wants to get back together... tbh

stealing the donut, worth it

Does Felix have muscles under that sweater? he's just sitting at the table a particular way

I hope his mom stays good and she's not mad at him

Hmmm, i think yes his mom needed help, but in real life or in a different family, I Don't Think It Would Go That Well

But, I mean, you do want storylines where people can get help when they needed it, but I dunno, it's too complicated for me

lol, that's so true Mia

Ur once an episode reminder that Mia is cute

Also her dad has to drop the Stanford thing or she'll here it in a speech and that will all go to sh*t

If i get married y'all gonna give me something old, new, blue, and borrowed and it's gonna b good or what?

I think my sister had a hodgepodge but that's fine

Holy f*ck. Veronica gonna say the dad needs to tell Mia something?

Mia :'(((

You're not a good dad, like emotionally

OH Felix gonna come to Pilar?

Woof

Still no one complimented Felix!

Oh Victor quietly said "you look great" as the scene transitioned

Can Lucy and Lake get together maybe, I like her bi energy

Is Lucy taking over for Mia, I would be so depressed. I guess besides giving alcohol I'm not sure Lucy's purpose

What do you rate Felix, Lake, I do wanna know

I think Salazar and Felix have fake real instagrams or someone grabbed their names

OnTimeFelix is a good one

I knew mama would apologize, but victor is gonna kiss Rahim the end of the ep...

Have they still not had birthdays... oh wait they're sophomores? I didn't know they all were. sophomores or juniors anyway. 16

wait, he got in a car crash how many years ago, more than a year ago. Learners permit? Hmmm

wait he just had a birthday, he should be 17 i'd think. unless they're sophomores. Ugh

Isa,, you can not be 39 and have a 16 year old, wait, you can, I'm bi and can't do math.

is this oyster supposed to be a joke.... bout... nevermind

Oh andrew is wearing something velvety, I want to pet

She;s... she's gonna live with her mom. Take the email out the trash

the lighting in places indoors at night is so funny to me, why are you in such a dark room, you're in the kitchen, lol,

Oh yeah, Shelby's place, exteriors all look the same when it's on the street

I think he's gonna break up with Shelby

Lol, leg joke

I want fried chicken but i've been eating so unhealthy recently

Okay bi Lucy, or you know what, might have been comp het with Andrew, gosh, we need some lgbtq ladies in here

"r&B from before i was born", can y'all stop making me feel ancient

Is benji gonna wedding crash as a romantic gesture as they kiss or almost kiss or are in a close embrace, i can't deal with the Emo if it happens

Pilar, :') can you be more thoughtful

Lucy and Lake is still a possibility, I'm

I Called it! (Benji is here)

Completely fair on Benji's part, now Victor is gonna b distressed, idk about that Rahim kiss anymore

UGH, I love when you're just happy to be near someone

What a first kiss..

The Truth Comes out

I think The Love Victor Team has issues and makes pedophile and incest jokes that are "casual" Don't like it, someone call them out about it.

Not to throw this out of nowhere, but this moment about imagining a future partner, Felix and Victor... OTP. Lol, I'm joking, but imagine if they imagined each other, I'm

Mmmm, sam smith time after time version. Good for Them

meeting by the garbage that's why they're allowed to kiss

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh

Also Lucy and Lake is gonna be real I can feel it

These teens know how to kiss? Couldn't be me

JK I was perpetually single, technically am

OH MY GOSH, it's happening.

Lol, her "joking" around with Mia and about Veronica... Yes yes yes

If I can't get my Leah on the Off beat, I will take this

Can't believe bi Lake is real. I will have to go through my old tags and look what I said

maybe she's packing up for her mom's? I'm not sur

Okay, well, I guess good for the salazars, he got his little shelby in... or got in shelby. (I'm so sorry) and now he can forgive his wife?

Oh my gosh, who is this mountain man

I'm not so sure about some of these reaction shots from Nick

Why does he look so serious and sad?

classic Love Victor cliff hanger

I feel like the doorbell is not nice enough to be at Benji's but I think ppl want Benji. Idk. We shall see.

Uh, good season. Nice. Nice. Also

bi lake, bi lake, bi lake!

Just a heads up: this is honest, crass, really lengthy and unfiltered. This is how I deal with friends dying, I write out my emotions so they can be out in the world and not in me. October 2004. "New guy in town is super hot. I think Chris knew him from Augusta."- Lacey giggles at me as she smokes a cigarette and we both sit in a planter box in the Square. Really, my first impression of Mike was that he was "hands down the hottest guy in Athens". I was 17, these were the things that mattered. A few days later we end up at Mike's 22nd birthday party, and Lacey and I somehow are not the youngest ones there. Chris was wearing Gravy Train booty shorts, (they might of been panties) and telling Andrew that "it ain't a party unless you take off your pants, man" Next thing I know The Heroic Livers were playing naked in the Elizabeth Street house living room, well, I don't think Alex got completely naked. And it turned into a naked dance party, but not everyone was naked. I know there was a tiny vodka bottle that was shot across the room from someone's vagina. And I do remember someone doing naked keg stands. Later, I was half-asleep in a chair, and Mike handed me a joint and apologized for not having a blanket for me. "How sweet" I thought. Forward a few weeks to October 30 2004: It's Saturday, so Athens is celebrating Halloween since everything is closed on Sunday. This was the night that Mike and I got together. Despite everyone. You would think that I would remember more about that actual night, but I don't, maybe it was all the whiskey, I think there was a show at Tite Pockets. Halloween morning. Mike and I walk downtown holding hands and giggling like idiots. I discover that my bike got stolen, but considering "I'm now holding hands, in public, with the hottest guy in Athens", I was accepting of the situation. We tolerated the backlash, we were kids, and we didn't care. I mean, he might of been 22, but mentally he was about 14, and so was I. He got me into bars, we made out on rooftops, we listened to Against Me at full volume at 3 a.m and screamed the lyrics to each other laughing and drinking Sparks. That damn little dog of his, Spazz, would always eat my underwear and every time Mike would pick up the underwear and pick up Spazz and then "beat" Spazz with the underwear while telling him he was "bad and gross", and I never stopped laughing. I helped him move into the Atlanta ave house, where the first thing he did once he got in his new room, was pick up a pair of ass-less chaps from the hallway, put them on, and move boxes in the chaps. I still don't even know who those came from. I basically lived there for 3 months, which meant Lacey basically lived there too. We were a package deal, at times. One morning, Lacey and I were giggling in the living room, as we did, and mike came out of the room half asleep and look at both of us and said "you know you guys share a brain right? You pass it off like a goddamn football." It stuck. Since that moment in time, lacey and I have forever shared a brain. Thanks for that one, Mikey. Him and I were on and off for about 5 months, but 5 months when you're 17, might as well be 5 years. He was a time bomb and I was a wrecking ball and still in high school, so it was never going to work out between us. And we both knew that. He would get angry and break things, and so would I, but never each other. Lacey and I used to laugh at all the gross noises he made in the morning and how he sounded like an 80 year old. We would walk around town and eat vegan jerky that we got at the co-op, and would yell things at the frat boys. I remember when Joel was still his roommate and Joel was dating Madeline, she was over at the house, in Joel's room singing and practicing for a show, we had our ears pressed up against the wall listening and giggling like fangirls. She started playing "Home To Me", and Mike starting crying and hugged me because that was "our song". Such a sap! Hahah. One time when we broke up for a week, I remember that you called me drunk and crying and said "come back. You feel like home to me." And of course, I broke, and went back. We spent hours watching DVDs of the Chappelle Show and eating dumpstered pizza and bread. and sometimes drank so many Sparks that we would be jumping on the bed, Lacey and Zac would join us, until 4a.m and the caffeine/booze crash was real. We were in everyone's face, bright and colorful and laughing. To me, it was one of those epic high school romances that you read about in teen novels and think "this is not realistic because no guy is that emotional, and nothing is that explosive or ridiculous in real life." Things that burn that bright, usually burn out fast. I was heartbroken when it ended and it turned me into an emo mess. I loved him, he loved me. I got over it, as you do. He was only the 2nd person I was actually in love with. And as stupid and silly as it sounds, being with him made me feel cool. He was hot, and fun, and hyper, and I was 17, and just wanted to be adored and have fun. For a short time, it worked. And then it didn't. We were a beautiful disaster. And I wouldn't take any of it back. Eventually we became friends, knowing that really we had to considering our shared friends. But a friendship with us worked, unlike a relationship. He was my buddy. August 2007: In the middle of my "traveling days", I stop by Athens for a few weeks. I hung out with Mike, and Andrew and other people, there was lots of naked swimming at DeVille, but wasn't there always? Mike was a passionate person, he craved romance and an epic love story, if even for 5 minutes. He was the kind of guy that would tell you he loved you while crying in the middle of a busy street, in the rain. He was all or nothing, 100% of the time. I think it made him charming, but also lead to his downfall. Well, we were both single, and drunk, and I was in town. And ya know, things happened one night, or maybe two, and for me it was all in good fun. Just some nice nostalgia. But for Mike, he told me he would come travel with me, and we could do anything, Because he loved me and he had always loved me, of course I laughed it off, because I knew how he was. I always admired his huge hopes and dreams, but in a way, it always made me sad. Because I knew that in his head, everything seemed so wrong, he was just scrambling to make something feel right. And I always understood that, but there was nothing I could do about it. We talked randomly throughout the years, usually just a happy birthday or "hey, I hope everything is good with you". We messaged on election night, about how we were so so fucked. He said that everyone in the house was asleep and he couldn't sleep and couldn't stop crying. Fast forward to December 27 2016: The day Carrie Fisher died. I read a sad Facebook status he wrote, and I messaged him asking if he was okay. He said he wasn't. He said he was suicidal. Then he called me. I answered and said hey and he starting crying and said "you. You sound like you always did." And did that cry/laugh thing he would do when he couldn't control his emotions. He spilled his guts to me, he told me everything he could think of that had happened to him in the last 8 years. He told me that he should just go overdose and get it over with, and I yelled at him. I told him he wasn't allowed, I told him that he couldn't fucking do to me what Andrew did. What Marc did. And he said "okay. I can't. I cant do that to you, or my other friends that care. I can't do that to my kid." And I said "no, Mikey you fucking can't. I know you're miserable, but you'll be okay. Just focus on getting yourself better." And through tears, he promised me that he wouldn't overdose and die like Andrew did, he told me he wouldn't kill him self, because it was fucked up and unfair. Then I told him to calm down, and pack a bowl, and smoke a bowl with me over the phone. And he did, and I said something and he started laughing. The last 10 minutes of our conversation was us laughing about farts and whatever other nonsense. He thanked me, he told me he would try to find somewhere in Texas that could maybe help him with his mental health problems. He told me that he wouldn't do anymore meth or heroin, and he knew he had to get his shit together, but he just didn't know how to stop fucking up. I made him message me everyday for about a week to tell me he was still alive. He told me that he was finally leaving for Texas and I was happy for him. He messaged me a few times when he was hanging out with his biological dad, about how great it was. That was February. That was the last time we actually exchanged messages. He broke his promise. But he was a time bomb. I know there's nothing I could of done, I know I did more than some. And I know that it doesn't matter. I'm glad I knew him, I'm forever grateful for the positive times we had together. I can't believe I wrote this much, but he was always one for sappy stories. I'm sorry it had to end like this, Mikey. Neither one of us believes in an afterlife, so I won't waste my time with that. But I love you, and I'm so sorry that your life played out this way. You were just too much for this world, too electric. Goodbye, friend, I hope when you return to star stuff you go somewhere with lots of metal and hardcore, and I hope the Sparks still contains caffeine. 🖤