Lesson n°1 : How to keep up a straight image while having never actually been with a boy or been interested in one by Camila Cabello
So I rewatched the Power 106 FM interview and there’s a few moments that are very revealing on how Camila manage to go along the “straight image” game while at the same time never lying about her actual personal life and the fact that its boy free and actually full of Lauren (theory, don’t get all up my ass please).
Okay the first time boys are brought up in the interview is when they talk about whether or not Sinu is meddling in her love life. Of course the interviewer jump straight into the heteronormative ship (no pun intended) and brings up “friend’s sons” and whatnot. Camila’s response is pretty clear, Mama is out the door, when the person she has a crush on is in the room.
Next stop, the other interviewer, a girl, brings up her own experience at being set up with boys by her mom. Camila comments on it and when she talks about the situation she has a certain gesture :
She points to the girl when she says “with him”, like bitch let’s be clear I’m talking about your story, not mine.
Camila keeps the game up by saying that the “boy situation” is the sahara desert at the moment, no lies there. (p.s : I think that desert is gonna stay empty her whole life)
Also what’s up with that little tilting of the head Camila? Is there something funny? Do you know something they don’t by any chance?
Back to Sinu and how she would discover everything about Camila’s relationship with a boy through her album :
And of course the now iconic Gaymila response :
Another interesting fact is that Camila says right after that Sinu “knew” that she was going through a hard time - might the reason be because Sinu has been on tour with Camila and Lauren for the past 4 years, and that she had a front row seat to witness their relationship? Just a theory.
More boy talk follows (how boring) and the interviewer is still using “him” and “boy” in every sentence - they talk about crushes, and again Camila never specify the gender of these crushes.
(DON’T TOUCH ME!!!)
The only time she directly mentions liking boys is when she’s talking about her childhood, and obviously most kids think they’re straight before anything else.
Again after that the interviewer asks what she’s looking for in a “boy” - Camila never once use a masculine pronoun in her answer, it’s always gender neutral.
She never once used the words “boy” or “guy” directly or use a masculine pronoun - it’s always the interviewer who brings out those words and all Camila does is go along with it, and just like that she fits into the straight box that people put her in (it apparently never occurred to him that she could possibly like girls - fucking heteronormativity) without having to lie or reveal personal detail about her relationship and who that relationship was with. Smart girl Camila, smart girl.
I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Thirty-Three
Summary: Jared finds out about your quickfire answers at your panel, leading to an uncomfortable discussion Words: 3.4k Jared x Reader x Gen, Jensen, Jeff, Sam, Dallas (OC) Warnings: mild angst Beta: @blacksiren
friends!!! Missed you guys! Man it has been a long writing break for me. I hope
I remember how to do this!
hellatus survived! Another season premiere! Six seasons - wow. We’ve put in a
chunk of time with this show. What I admire about Arrow is they really pay
attention to what worked and what didn’t in the previous season and try
incorporate those lessons into the next. Arrow has five years of lessons informing
their sixth season premiere and the episode reflected it.
There is a
seamless fluidity and confidence to “Fallout.” Arrow knows what it
does best and what it doesn’t. The captain of the Arrowverse, the original DC
TV show, “the veteran” is owning their experience. The cast feels
incredibly well integrated, it’s fast paced, funny and emotional. Most
importantly it answers the long awaited “cliffhanger” while still
leaving some unanswered questions and launching new mysteries.
“Fallout” is an interesting choice for the episode title. It stuck
with me as I watched because of the open endedness to the term. The definition
of fallout is:
1 a :the often radioactive particles
stirred up by or resulting from a nuclear explosion and descending through the
atmosphere; also :other polluting particles (such as volcanic ash) descending
b :descent (as of fallout) through
2 :a secondary and often lingering
effect, result, or set of consequences
There is no
conclusion or end to what happened on Lian Yu and what Adrian Chase did. The characters are still falling through the
consequences. Some are grappling more than others with the, but the lingering effects
are shifting them all in new directions. For some, these new directions are wonderful. For others, it is like a radioactive particle slowly
descending all around them… like a cancer taking hold.
Cole and (Y/n) has reportedly broken up amid rumours Cole had been
cheating on (Y/n) with co-star Lili Reinhart. Both Cole and (Y/n) play major
roles in the hit CW series Riverdale. Sources have confirmed that neither Cole
nor (Y/n), or even Lili for that matter, will be leaving the show despite the
brutal tension, especially for (Y/n). The Riverdale cast will soon be shooting
the third edition of the hit series with a new actor joining them this season-
A/N : Hi everyone :) I hope you’re all doing well. Please do let me know what make of this Love Triangle I’m trying to create! I love hearing from you guys <3
It has been 2 months.Two months since you caught your two best friends making out in
the Men changing room. You still remember it like it happened yesterday.
Since it was the last day of shooting, you and Cole had
planned a small celebratory dinner. Everybody had already packed up and left.
You had been waiting for Cole for over half an hour so you decided to look for
him in the Changing room. What you saw next turned your world outside down. To
say you had your heart crushed and broken would be an understatement. After
all, what do you do when you find out that the first person to ever look into
your eyes and tell you he loved you, never really did?
You’ve kept a very low profile ever since then. There’s no
denying you still miss your first love but you don’t, not even for a second,
want him back. He ruined you.
The first two months were brutal. You felt out of your body.
You were sad for a very long time. You missed him. Of course, you did. You
missed the beautiful boy with the greasy blonde hair who’d never let anyone
touch his hair, with the exception of you. You missed him everytime you woke up
at 3am and realized you couldn’t call him to tell him about your bad dreams
anymore. You missed him everytime you came across pictures of you photographed by
the paparazzi alone because you’re so used to being photographed, and being
protected, by Cole. But you missed him most when you roll over to the other
side of bed and find an extra pillow instead of Cole’s warm body and his scent
which you were so familiar with.
But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, your
heart began to heal. Camila and KJ were your backbone. Camila dressed you up
and took you out for meals while KJ took you girls shopping a lot of times.
They made sure you were okay and that you weren’t alone. Soon you started to
feel happy again, without Cole. There was no trace of Cole. Camila had blocked
Cole from all your social media accounts and even from your phone because he
called every single night for 1 month. “Never go back to what broke you,”
Camila always reminded you. There was nothing you wanted more than to be with
Cole again but the way he broke your heart was brutal and you knew you
didn’t deserve any of it.
It has been 2 months. Today is your first day back at work
since that dreadful incident. You haven’t seen Cole for two months straight. It
would be weird to see him again, as someone who isn’t your boyfriend. To see
him and Lili would be pretty sickening but hey, mama raised a strong bitch! You
have no idea what’s going on between Cole and Lili. For all you know, they could be dating, you
don’t know, no news emerged ever since. You’ve already forgiven the two of them
though. Because hating them is just another way of holding on to them and they
certainly do not belong in your life anymore. You don’t feel anything towards
either of them. No bitterness, no happiness.
“Oh no, I have to be in set in 20 minutes,” you rush to get changed.
So after a 20 minutes ride to set, here’s what you’ve
That you will be strong.
That you will remain professional towards both
Cole and Lili.
That you will not let your emotions get to you.
That you will smile and continue to be the best
version of yourself.
Okay, (Y/n), let’s do this.
Not surprisingly, you arrive 10 minutes late to the set. Ugh,
Around 3-4 paparazzi were quick enough to hurdle towards you as you
parked your car.
Ok, the thing with paparazzi- you loathe them. You know
they’re just doing their job but they can be pretty scary sometimes. Cole
was always the one to protect you from
them but with him gone, you’re on your own.
Maybe that’s a good thing, you reassure yourself.
You quickly get out of the car as they proceed to take
multiple shots of you.
“(Y/N), how are you feeling today?”
“Are we going to see any catfights today?”
“Are you still heart-broken?”
You roll your eyes at their questions as you make your way
towards the set.
“Hey, leave her alone!” you hear an unfamiliar voice call
out in a strong british accent.
You, in sync with the paparazzi, turn around to find a new
The word Handsome would be an understatement.
There stood a guy you’re not sure you’ve seen before. He had
dark brown hair and he looked pretty fit!
He makes his way towards you. The paparazzi quickly click
him as well, yelling out “Ayee Spidy, what are you doing here?”
The Spidy guy gives you a warm smile as he approach towards
you, “(Y/n), right?”
How does he know my name?
“Can we please get in first?” you squeak with a scared look.
Gosh, you sure do hate the paparazzi.
So you and the Spidy guy make your way towards the set.
Soon, the paparazzi are out of sight.
“I’m sorry about earlier, I have a crippling phobia of
photographers,” you blurt awkwardly, “Thank you for saving me though!”
He chuckles,”That’s my job, saving people”
You didn’t quite understand what he was trying to imply.
“It’s my first day here,” he exclaims
“You don’t say! Anyone who knows Mark knows not to be late,”
“Well then, I hope Mark doesn’t have a crippling fear of
spiders if he wants to mess with me”
Okay, you have no idea where this guy gets his sense of
humour from. You have no idea what he’s trying to imply.
“Have we met before?” you question him. He does look
Lost in the
conversation, you hadn’t realized that you’ve already reached the set.
You walk in to find everyone in a full circle. Camila, KJ,
Lili, Casey, Madeline, Cole..
“Ah, (Y/n), you’re finally here!” Mark loudly exclaims.
Everybody turns around to find you and the Spidy guy walking
in together. You try your very best not to look at Cole, or be affected by him.
Onlookers could easily tell how his face changed when he saw you.
“I see you’ve already met your new co-star, Tom.” Mark
“Tom Holland, everyone!”
You gawk at TOM HOLLAND happily waving at everybody as the
crew and the cast cheers him on.
How could you have been so stupid? The handsome smile, the
fit body, the british accent, SPIDY, the stupid spiderman puns! How could you
have missed it?
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I couldn’t’-“ you shyly try to
“That’s alright love, it was fun while it lasted” he winks and
disappears in the crowd of producers and crew members.
“(Y/n), make up room!” you hear one of the make-up artist
“Be there!” you reply as you make your way towards the
“(Y/n),” you’re paused by the sound of a familiar voice.
You turn around to find the last person you wanted to see on
your first day back at work.
Cole Mitchell Sprouse.
Seeing him after so long feels so weird, espically because
you were so used to seeing him every single day. This is your very first
encounter with him ever since that incident and you have no idea what to feel.
A part of you wants to run up to him and hug him tight like you always do while the
other half wants to run as far as you can from him.
Cole carried a melancholy expression.
“Hey,” you reply, avoiding his eyes.
“(Y/n),” he tries to walk closer towards you but you take a
He pauses, “(Y/n), can we please talk?“
“Aye shy girl! I was wondering if you could show me around?”
you hear Tom intervene from a distance. Poor guy looks so lost with his
“Sure,” you reply back at Tom, making Cole widen his eyes.
“Later, Cole.” You quietly murmur and leave.
Cole quickly grabs your hand, “(Y/n), please”
You abruptly let yourself free from his grip as you reply,
“There is nothing to talk about.”
You hold your heart together as you walk away from ‘what
broke you’. You don’t want to hear what he has to say. You don’t to hear any
explanations. He knew what he was doing when he kissed Lili. He did what he did
at the cost of your feelings. You’ve forgiven but you’ve definitely not forgotten.
“Everything alright, love?” Ugh, Tom and his English ways. Any girl could easily be a sucker for this lad!
You nod at the innocent-lost british lad as Cole
continues to look on. “Let’s start with the Hair&make up”.
It hasn’t even been 10 minutes since you’ve walked into set
but you’re barely holding your heart together after having a short 30
second conversation with Cole. And to think you haven’t even talked to Lili yet!
For all you know, the third season of Riverdale is going to be one hell
of a ride, considering you still have feelings for the guy who crushed your
heart in two. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get past Cole and Lili in the long
run but for now, you’re glad you have this cheeky british lad with terrible
puns to pay heed to.
Terry’s fifth birthday is a big one. Your home ends up filled with other five year olds and their parents. It’s all hands on deck for the big day, as the kids run all over the house. Despite having done this countless times before you’re more than a little stressed.
Between making sure the kids don’t kill each other, and keeping the society climbing mothers away, you’re stressed to your max. You do your best to hide in the kitchen, as the older kids corral the younger ones. “Never again.”
You roll your eyes, “You say that every time.”
Bruce scowls, “And every time I think it can’t get worse, it does.”
You hmmm, “So are we going to cancel Cass’ birthday?”
Bruce scowls, “Of course not. I’m just saying an event planner is something to invest in.”
“They’re children’s birthday parties. We don’t need an event planner.”
“Just a clean up crew.”
You take a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and kiss your husband’s cheek, “We’ll survive. Now go mingle with the other dads.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes, because I have to mingle with the vipers that are their mothers.”
You slip out of the kitchen and allow your eyes to scan the crowd. Your eyes find a group of moms and you steel your nerves and force yourself to walk over. You approach from behind, just in case you chicken out. That’s when you hear them, “She didn’t even give poor Bruce a chance.”
There’s a giggle, “I know. How she tricked him into marrying her, I’ll never know.”
“I mean really. Running away together and getting pregnant right off the bat, it’s the oldest trick in the book.”
“And look at how many they have. Six biological kids, and then the two orphans, what is she trying to prove?”
“She’s not even that pretty. Her body has certainly gone to hell.”
You bite the inside of your lip to keep from saying something. Stepping back, the nausea takes over and you slink back into the shadows. You slip upstairs and into your room. Your lunch makes a reappearance, before you collapse on your bed. The bed dips a moment later, and a head rests on your back.
Glancing back you grin at Duke, “What’s up kiddo?”
“They’re harpies. Mean bitter old women who are miserable in their own lives and looking to feel better about themselves.”
You sit up and he does too. Duke was a person who thrived on touch. His own parents had been big on hugs. You had sought to continue that. And as he had adjusted to your home, he’d grown comfortable in seeking reassurance, and finding his place in the family.
“I was playing hide and seek with Terry and his friends, I was under the table.”
“Did you win?”
He nods, “Yep, but I might have scared those women. I jumped out from underneath. One spilled wine down the front of her dress.”
You can’t help it, you laugh. “This would be the point I would normally parent, but I’m too exhausted right now.”
“So does that mean we’re off scot free.”
You blink at the sound of a new voice before several heads pop up. You smile as all your kids climb up onto the bed. Terry climbs right into your lap, “Thank you for my party mama.”
You kiss the top of his head, “You’re welcome baby.”
Turning to your older kids you ask, “You were all hiding under the table?”
Jason shrugs, “We all think alike. I blame dad.”
Cass places a hand on your knee and signs “You’re very pretty mama.”
Tim nods, “What she said. They’re just mean.”
Dick’s smile is easy going but you can see the anger hidden below the surface, “I think from now on, these parties should only be family and close friends.”
There’s a chorus of agreement before a moment of silence settles over the group, “I like having a big family.”
Your eyes flash to Helena. Her eyes are thoughtful, “Sure sometimes these guys are annoying, and they only leave like three chips in a bag, but they’re always here for me.”
Jason echos the sentiment, “There’s always been someone to talk to, or play with, or blame.” You raise an eyebrow at the last one but he just smirks.
“There’s always someone to help us with homework, or spar against.” Damian chirps in.
Duke smiles, “We’re a family.”
You smile, “Very true, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” With smiles on their face you watch your kids leave the room.
You sit there on the bed for a few more minutes, and wait for Bruce to peek his head in. “How are you feeling?”
He nods, and takes a seat next to you, “That’s common at this stage.” There’s a moment of silence before he asks, “Should we even bother saying this will be the last one?”
You smile, “This is the last one.”
Bruce wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close, “You sure about that?”
Your hands go to your belly, “No.”
“Duke’s right you know.”
“You’re amazing, and beautiful.”
You smile, “Those harpies were right. I have stretch marks, and a flabby tummy. Lord knows I’m not nearly as put together as I should be.”
Bruce’s hand goes to cover yours, “This belly has carried six babies, and is now carrying a seventh. You’re a mother to eight soon to be nine children it’s understandable that you’re not magazine cover ready. And the most important thing, you are gorgeous, and courageous, and I thank God for you every day, because you are the love of my life.”
Leaning into your husband you take in the amount of happiness that’s surrounding you, and you smile.
I know everyone loves Hamilton and that’s great because it’s amazing but like, that intro song? Does not even come close to covering what a fucking train wreck this guy’s life was before he even came to America.
His mom got an inheritance on St. Croix at 16 that gained her all sorts of suiters, and then, at her mother’s behest, she married this dude, Johann Michael Lavien, who was at least twelve years older than her. He was kind of a douche but dressed pretty and made Mama happy despite the fact that she had a marriage so unhappy that she legally separated from Rachel’s father years before. They had one kid and I’m assuming she never wanted to see dude naked again after that.
Anyway, after dwindling away her inheritance on pretty clothes and failed ventures, because of some obscure Dutch law (because it was the West Indies and basically any law you could find from any country dubiously in occupation could work), he got her thrown in jail for adultery (not refuted, but not actually substantiated, but WHATEVER, throw her in with murderers and runaway slaves because those are all the same sort of heathen anyway). He thought her incarceration would make her a more godly and dutiful wife, til she got out and was basically just like LOL NAH and took off to St. Kitts.
After a while, our buddy Johann shacked up with another chick and decided he wanted to marry her. He got a divorce decree that was Trump level of petty and nasty and gross, calling her a whore and demonizing her for leaving him to care for their son alone on his meager earnings, and managed to get it down that he could remarry, but she couldn’t. Ever.
So over on St. Kitts, Rachel meets James Hamilton and they get together and have two sons and present themselves as James and Rachel Hamilton, but she has literally no ability to legitimize James Jr. and Alexander. Fast forward about fifteen years, her boys are 12 and 10, and James brings them back to St. Croix where she has a Reputation and they can’t even fake that this is legitimate. He’s involved in some legal action there, and when that’s over, he splits, probably because he couldn’t afford to take care of them anymore because he was ALSO kind of a giant loser. Nice, but awful at trying to get rich quick and ending up in even more debt, time and time again.
So Rachel opens a mercantile in the first floor of their house…common practice as far as dwellings go, having a shop on the first floor, but unheard of for women. Rachel gave no fucks, seriously. Then obviously we know she got sick and Alexander got sick and they were given some weird treatments like enemas and bloodletting (????) and then his mom died in the same bed he was in.
So then Levine comes back, fights with the court and brandishes this divorce decree, and manages the get the sons who had no chance of being legitimate disinherited from whatever estate she DID have. Instead it was all given to Peter, the son she hadn’t seen in 18 years, who showed up, collected what he was due, and left again, with nothing for his half brothers who, I’ll remind you, were 12 and 14.
They got sent to live with a cousin who was living with a mistress and their son…and then the cousin committed suicide, being found in a pool of blood in his bed. Everything was given to the mistress and their kid, with nothing even mentioned about his orphan wards. Their uncle shows up, trying to take care of things, and….dies a month later. Again, no provisions for the boys, despite Uncle John having changed his will FIVE DAYS before he died.
At that point, James Jr. becomes a carpenter’s apprentice because he’s not super smart or super skilled at anything else (takes after his dad) and Alexander, in some weird Dickensian twist of fate, gets taken in by a trader who might or might not be his actual father but that’s for another time. That’s when he started working as a clerk in a trading office and getting noticed, because he was smart, he could keep track of all the different currencies (there was a lot), was bilingual in French and English (even more so than Jefferson was in later years, and if you don’t think Hamilton taunted Jefferson in French because of that I don’t know what to tell you), he could chart ships, he read everything, he wrote poetry like the romantic hero weirdo he was.
And then there was a hurricane. Because of course there was. It was a letter to his father that he showed to the sometimes editor of the paper–well-written, intelligent, and full of melodramatic descriptions (something about distressed shrieks making angels weep or something???) that got him the attention of the whole island. It was published anonymously, the editor even claiming that the youth who wrote it at first protested it being published, so it wouldn’t look like he was trying to capitalize on a tragedy. Word still got out that he wrote it, and they did indeed take up a collection to send him to school in America, despite the devastation on the island.
So Alexander got a free ride to Boston and an allowance for his education, and boarded a ship with all sorts of new opportunities in front of him…and then the ship caught fire. In the middle of the ocean.
I can only imagine that at that point, Alexander was just like…are you fucking kidding me???
tl;dr: Alexander Hamilton’s life was a shit show before he ever even came to America, but his mother’s intelligence and will and his father’s pride and a horror show history of violence and tragedy just made him more stubborn about surviving and rising above all of it.
Hey I've read both of your Jughead leaving when Betty was pregnant fics and I don't know if you were planning on writing more but I would love it if you did. I think they're awesome and would love to read more!!
Sure! ThNks so much! Part 2:https://bughead4days.tumblr.com/post/160936781806/hi-this-may-sounds-weird-but-i-just-read-your-fic !
Betty stared at her reflection in the mirror, tugging on the soft white, strapless dress and playing with her silky blonde curls. Pregnancy had been good to Betty, her skin was smoother than ever and her hair was down to her back. She thanked god for the fact that she was able to lose the baby weight so fast, she was lucky, she knew that and she had her amazing son to thank for it. Another one of the amazing things he brought into her life.
“You look amazing. Stop messing with your hair. he’s gonna regret the day he walked out of that door.” Veronica came to stand behind Betty, placing her hands on her shoulders and resting her chin close to her face. Relaxing into her best friends embrace she sighed, her fingers smoothing down the dress.
“I feel like I’m back in highschool all over again, like I’m going to meet him for our Friday night dates at Pops.” Betty sighed miserably. “I don’t even know why I’m putting any effort into this, he left once, he’s just gonna leave again.”
Veronica shook her head
“Not this time B, I swear to god if he leaves you and Hunter I will personally have daddy track down the son of a ….” she trailed off at the sound of little feet scampering into the bedroom and crawling onto the bed. Hunter crossed his legs and sat comfortably, holding his stuffed white sheepdog and looking in awe at his mother.
“Look pretty mama.” He reached a chubby little hand out, still clutching the dog. Betty walked towards him and kissed his open palm before kissing the dingy white toy.
“What does hotdog think? Am I the cats meow?” Betty wiggled her eyebrows and spun around, putting on a show for her little man.
Hunter clapped his hands and barked, giggling and grinning.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Nerves forgotten for the time being as she took comfort in her favorite boys laughter.
“I hate to break up the fashion show, but it’s quarter to six. You might wanna get going.” Veronica shrugged carelessly “or you can skip it, forget he ever came here and order takeout.” She grinned wickedly.
Alice Cooper walked through the door at that exact moment and instantly began cooing at the two year old clutched in Betty’s arms
“Go on Elizabeth, destiny waits.” She plucked Hunter from Betty and headed for the kitchen.
Rolling her eyes, Betty grabbed her purse and walked through the front door, waving at Verona and driving off in her mini van (it was much cooler than a mom van and she used it to deliver flowers, Thankyou very much)
She arrived at Pops in no time at all, instantly heading for the door, if she stopped to think she would turn right back around.
It was almost too much to handle, there he was tucked in his regular booth, sleeves of his denim jacket rolled up and a familiar slump to his posture, his eyes lit up when she walked in and she remembered a familiar sight three years ago on prom night.
Shaking her shoulders she slid into the booth across from him
“Hello.” She tried to come off as uninterested but the way he was staring at her made her breathing slow and her heart race.
“Hey bets.” His voice was cautious and shaky as he slid the vanilla milkshake towards her.
Betty looked down at the drink and sighed, here goes nothing.
Finally getting to look at her fully, She looked like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, her bright green eyes were something he had never forgotten, but to see them again in person was almost surreal, his eyes lingered on her honey blonde hair, it was longer now and he physically had to grip the table to keep from running his fingers through it. Finally his eyes dipped lower, taking in all of her new curves, he remembered a time where he knew her body like the back of his hand but now.. now there were new dips and lines and deliciously soft skin, the familiar scent of vanilla and peaches invaded his senses and his eyes nearly rolled back. She was everything he remembered and so much more.
“You wanted to talk?” The sugar sweet voice broke him out of his thoughts and he drew his eyes back up to hers.
He nodded, taking a shallow breath before he began
“We had plans, you and I, we were going to go New York, become a journalistic duo, move in together, be a family.” He glanced up, his eyes catching the watery ones of Betty’s
“You don’t have to remind me Jughead, I know exactly what our plans were.” Her voice was small and she cursed herself for letting him get to her.
“Just listen, please. We had these plans and they were everything I could have wanted, hell you could have told me you wanted to join a cult in Utah and I would have gone along, because you would have been there. All I wanted was you.” He cleared his throat, willing the emotion to stay back until after he was done.
“But you left me. I was all you wanted and you left me.” There was a bitterness to her voice now and Jughead shook his head
“I didn’t want to leave, I did everything I could but it was too late. He found out, he found out about our plans, about us. and he made me go.i never would have left you and then.. you were pregnant.. you were all alone and I was gone..” he mumbled the last part.. the guilt was pushing down on his chest and he found it hard to breathe, his teeth ground into themselves and his knuckles turned white when suddenly he felt a warm hand cover his own.
“Who made you leave? Who found out?” Betty’s soft voice tore him from his internal fight and he finally caught her eyes
“Your dad Betty. Hal found out.”
Betty ripped her hand from his, putting it to her own heart
“My dad? What.. what do you mean?”
Jughead reached for her again, before dropping in on the table and continuing
“He found out that we were leaving together, he threatened my fathers job, he threatened to frame me for robbery, he was going to get me locked up, but still I didn’t care, I was going to fight it but then.. he told he would send you away, send you to the place they sent Polly, I didn’t know what he meant, I didn’t know what he was talking about but now I do.. he must have found out you were pregnant, he was going to send you to the sisters.. even though I didn’t know, I believed him, I thought if I left it would be better for everyone. I left the night he came to talk to me and I didn’t look back, god I wanted too, but if I looked back… I would have come running right back to you.”
Tears were streaming down both of their faces now and Betty gasped slightly, taking a shuddery breath and whispering
“You could have come to me, we could have fought this together, you know I would have been by your side. I would never leave you, no matter what. I know you think you were doing what was best for me but I was alone. I had no one. Until Hunter, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and.. I feel bad for you… I feel bad that you missed him growing up, you would have been a great father.” She looked away, her arms coming to protect herself as she hid inside herself
“I’m here now. I know it’s not the same and I know it’s nowhere near enough but I’m here.” Jughead begged desperately, tears falling in heavy drops onto the metal diner table “I can be his father, I can be there for him, I can be there for you. Betty… I love you, I never stopped and I never will.” He gripped her hands, pulling her eyes towards his.
Feeling her resolve weakening she whimpered
“I meant what I said about us not needing you.” She said lamely
“I know that, but.. I need you. I need you and I need my son. Please Betty.. let me be here.”
Looking deep into the stormy blue eyes she had grown so familiar with throughout her childhood, she opened her mouth to speak.
Archie, Veronica and Kevin arrived at their booth at that exact moment, and the bubble they had been in popped, Betty pulling her hands free as Kevin slid in beside her.
Jughead was still staring intently at her, waiting an answer. Giving him a quick glance she let him know, this wasn’t over.
k so there's this Nasty blog i found that says a lot of stuff about aphrodite 'striking down het guys who pretend to be lesbians' (aka trans lesbians) so... got any headcanons of aphrodite supporting her trans daughters piper/drew/etc?
I’VE SEEN THAT BLOG >:0 it makes me so angry!!!!! te/rfs aint worth shit, my friend, trust me. lesbians love women, ter/fs hate women … my only conclusion is that ter/fs are the fake lesbians, not beautiful incredible trans women and trans girls. i recommend following @translesbianaphrodite! they’re nearing their follower goal and their blog is just lovely! they post all kinds of positivity, mostly at sapphic ppl, especially of the trans/not cis variety! (and they are a hellenic polytheist like yours truly!) send them some nice messages too, if you’d like, they certainly deserve them!
anyways, on to the Good Stuff ™
- Drew Tanaka knew she was trans from basically birth. She was born, heard the doctor say “congratulations, it’s a boy!” and smacked the midwife over the-
Just kidding. But, really, from a very young age, she knew she was a girl. And we all know how Drew is - she doesn’t take no for an answer and she does not like being told she’s wrong. Her mama (not Aphrodite, other mama) has the obligatory few moments of “wow my son is really girly haha” before realizing “oh shit my son is actually a girl. uh. daughter i mean” and so she prays to Aphrodite, who she loved and who loved her. She asks Aphrodite what she can do to help her daughter. And Aphrodite like.. just shows up, says “Okay, check this out” and walks over to Drew.
“Hey pretty girl!” Aphrodite greets her. “Do you know me?”
And Drew pauses from scratching her nose for a few seconds to look at the goddess Aphrodite. “You’re my mom, duh.”
And Aphrodite laughs. “I sure am. I don’t often get the time to check up on my babies, but I wanted to see how my little girl was doing.”
“I’m okay, I guess.” Drew shrugs. “I’m playing trucks, which is alright. People don’t know this, but the red one goes way faster.”
“I’ll bet it does. Red is one of my favorite colors.”
Drew brightens up a little, pushes her short, straight hair out of her eyes to look up at her mother. “It’s mine too! I guess that’s why you’re my mom.”
When Drew turns away to grab more of her toys to show her mom, Aphrodite turns to Mama Tanaka and gestures. ‘Just like that,’ she mouths. And Mama Tanaka understands.
This continues for some time, Mama not understanding exactly what Drew needs. It took her a long, long time just to accept that she herself enjoyed the ‘company’ of other women - this trans stuff is hard to get used to. Not for a moment does she ever make that Drew’s problem. When Drew doesn’t want to change her name (”What do you mean? Drew is a girl’s name because I’m a girl. Do you think it’s a boy’s name?” “Of course not, pumpkin.”), when Drew wants her nails painted a different color every nail, when Drew wants her hair done up in pigtails even though it’s still too short…. Mama never makes it Drew’s problem. She and Drew work together to find a solution, and Mama works to understand Drew.
When Drew comes home from school talking about a ‘pretty girl i’m gonna marry one day’, Mama isn’t sure what to think. This should be one of the easier once, since it’s something she’s quite used to feeling too, but she wishes she could call on Aphrodite every time something happened. Parenting was hard. She never, ever wanted to hurt Drew. So she calls on Aphrodite through the ways she knows how; memory.
Like Aphrodite did so long ago, Mama takes it in stride, smiles reassuringly. “Is that so? Is she very pretty?” (”The prettiest!”)
Mama does this every time something like this happens. Every time a kid at school says something cruel, or Drew gets another crush, or her daughter picks up a new interest, or anything at all, Mama smiles and pets her hair and encourages her. She doesn’t make a big deal out of things, doesn’t ask accusatory questions. She’s gentle like sea foam on sand, like a breeze that shakes the flame of a candle but does not blow it out. She becomes that which reminds her of the lover she once had, the lover that gave her her beloved daughter, her Drew.
i just know that if i keep writing this is going to end up 100k words so uh…. i’ll keep working on it privately and maybe post it on ao3 because i am yelling and i didnt realize this was something i loved this much omg… thank you for sending the ask! - mod will
Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: So I’ve had this idea running in my head. You know in the trailer when Frank tells Brianna to make a wish? What if she wishes to meet her real father, because she instinctively knows Frank isn’t her biological dad? What if the reason why she wants to meet Jamie is because she wants a father/daughter relationship she never got? Perhaps she knows Frank doesn’t love her and she just wants to be loved and wanted.
She’d always known she was different, even from an early age and her peers hadn’t had any issues holding back their ideas on the subject. As soon as they’d learnt to tease, her classmates had pointed out the differences between her and her parents.
She had fiery red hair, her parents did not. She had fierce blue eyes, like a sea before storm. They did not.
She’d asked her teachers, all of whom had made vague comments about ‘skipping generations’ and ‘recessive genes’. At first it had placated her, but as she’d grown it had just grated more and more. She knew it wasn’t a just matter of science, it was something more.
She hadn’t dared to ask her parents, something told her it wasn’t something her mama wanted to discuss. But, nevertheless, she still felt this shift in her bones.
The question had arisen in class; ‘who do you think you are?’ it read. It was meant as an innocuous statement to get the children thinking about who they were, who they wanted to be and where they came from but to Brianna it was simply more of an indicator that she didn’t fit.
She mulled it over, on and off, for weeks. Sitting in her favourite branch, outside in their garden where she could think straight, she spent hours considering it. If she closed her eyes and reached out she could almost imagine the place to which she belonged. It was strange, there were no cars, no massive buildings, no traffic or rush. The air was clean and the trees were dense and populous, rising above all else.
She ached for it.
The song the group had sung for them in their whole-school assembly sat at the front of her mind, rolling around over and over. The lyrics haunted her. The woman had told her, with great confidence; 'you always have faith’ after she’d approached them afterwards.
At first she’d quirked her head to the side, confused. The tall lady with long black hair had winked and walked away, muttering 'soon you will understand’, and as she’d slept she had.
The clear water in the bath used to mock her, her reflection showing all of those differences -ones she couldn’t attribute to anyone or anything-, but now her eyes mirrored something she wanted to dive into. Before they screamed 'different’ now they sang to her. The blue swimming with something that connected her to something bigger than herself. She could sense someone else in them. She sat in the water until it cooled, staring at herself until her eyes crossed and she could no longer see clearly. The voice that echoed in her mind seemed closer to her when she looked at herself, more like it was a part of her than simply another segment of white noise.
Brianna Ellen Randall did this night after night, often sitting in the water until it had gone tepid and cold. She didn’t worry though, because her thoughts kept her occupied.
As the water gargled, the bubbling glug amassing at the plughole as she emptied it once more, she saw in her distorted reflection something she’d never seen in all the time she’d been looking at herself this way.
She saw home.
She started to sneak into her mama and papa’s bedroom at night in the hopes that her mama would talk to her in her dreams. Bree’s heart would always sink a little when she came away empty handed, she swore she’d heard her whispering a name a few nights prior but so far both of her parents had been motionless in sleep, only moving occasionally to shift position.
One night, whilst the wind howled and the windows rattled, Bree had been spooked by the storm. She’d lunged forward as the thunder crackled through the sky and gripped her mama’s hand, her small fingers curling around the jagged silver ring that lay there. All at once and without warning Claire had said a name. Bree’s heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she couldn’t quite make it out, but from that night onwards she’d instinctively known how to get her mama to talk.
The next few nights she’d slept through and woken full of sorrow that she’d missed it, but eventually a bad dream woke her and she’d stumbled blearily into her parents bedroom once more. Taking Claire’s hand against hers she’d sat on the floor by the bed massaging the ring on her finger until her mama had started to babble in her slumber.
First it was just one-off words; then came the stories. Bree collected them, writing down all she could in a little journal her papa had procured for her. Eventually she had a whole pad full. Stories of far off lands, of green, of daring men on horseback, and of a fearless warrior who stood tall amongst all the others, who laid down his life for love.
She rushed home after school, forgoing her usual habit of waiting in the library for her father to collect her, she had too much on her mind to wait. She could have just used the bibles the library would have stocked, but she had a feeling she needed her own. Faith, she recalled the woman saying all those months ago. That in itself could have meant any number of things, but the small pocket sized worn thing her mother had given her years ago, a gift from Reverend Wakefield, seemed to call to her.
She groped under the plant pot for the hidden key for what seemed like an age, her fingers trapping against the bottom of the heavy ceramic base until she finally managed to grip it. In her haste to get upstairs she slammed the door so hard that her first year kindergarten photo fell to the floor with a thud. She paid it no mind as she scarpered to her room and pulled the tatty bible from below her pillow.
At her desk she scoured the pages, no clue as to what she was looking for. Nothing seemed to stand out, nothing that could lead her on the voyage of discovery she’d assumed it would. Her parents arrived home, offered her dinner, generally fussed around her until she shooed them both away. She wouldn’t be distracted. The sun started to dip in the sky, the faint rays of deep yellow dancing through the thin gap in her curtains. Then, all of a sudden something caught her eye. It was written in scrawled letters at the bottom of a page, the black ink faded with time and wear. Faith, 17,44; it read, a slight curl on the 'F’. The breath caught in her throat as she ran her tiny fingers over the intended text.
So focused on those handwritten words was she that it took her a while to notice the page on which they were scrawled. Hebrews 11. The words of first line seemed to float off the page as she read, trapping themselves on the backs of her irises. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Her heart was thudding in her chest, 'things not seen’ seemed most important. Then, almost at the same time the lyrics to the song the choir had sung to her class sprung up. “They live in you…” whirled around her brain meshed with the lines from her bible, she closed her eyes and focused inwards trying to connect with her conscious.
It wasn’t long before her father told her of a most important trip, his eyes alight with excitement at the prospect of journeying -once again- to see Reverend Wakefield on the quest for historical information that only the old reverend could help him to find. The school holidays were fast approaching and Brianna’s mind whirled with the infinite possibilities that now lay before her.
Reverend Wakefield had been the one to give the bible to her mama, that meant that he knew the key to its origins.
Without letting on a word to either of her parents, Bree broached the subject over a quiet family dinner. As the clock ticked loudly on the mantle she turned to her papa, a coy smile on her face as she tried to quash any feelings of excitement before she’d gotten either of them to agree to her proposal.
“Papa, you said Mr Wakefield has a son and his housekeeper has a daughter around my age?”
Frank looked up over his thick rimmed glasses as he sipped on his tea, Smiling a little he passed Bree another bread roll as if coaxing her to eat more before coughing a little to clear his throat. “Yes darling, they do. It’s lovely over there with young Roger and Fiona running about the place, it makes the manse seem alive.” There was kindness in his voice and also a hint of sorrow as he spoke about the children that startled Bree somewhat, but she ignored it and nodded.
“Well, since it’s holidays,” she began, watching as Claire chewed slowly on the last of her beef, before glancing once at her daughter and then back down at her plate, “maybe I could come with you? I’d be good, I promise!” She chimed in almost immediately, not giving Frank the opportunity to decline her straight away. “I’ll play with Roger and Fiona nicely, I won’t get in the way…” looking up from under her lashes, Bree played the doting daughter card whilst her heart was pounding mercilessly in her chest.
Frank placed down his glass and looked across at Claire with an unreadable expression on his face, “what do you think?” He asked, calmly, but Bree picked up on a certain undercurrent of tension. Ignoring it, Bree twinned her legs under her chair to stop herself from bouncing where she sat.
Claire looked at Bree, her eyes softening as she watched her daughter desperately trying to curtail her growing excitement.
“Please, mama…pretty please…” Bree mouthed, her sweaty palms resting solidly on the dinner table as she silently pleaded with her mother.
Claire sighed and nodded. “But please be careful, love. No running off from your father, alright?”
Nodding wildly, Brianna pushed herself away from the table and skittered off to her room - too excited now to consider finishing her supper. It was only later, cocooned under her duvet with the bible clutched tightly to her chest that she felt the slight pinch of sorrow at double-crossing her parents. Frank was willing to take her, something he’d never been accepting of before, and already she was conceiving ways that she could go off investigating a land she’d never even set foot in before.
Heck, she didn’t even know *what* she was looking for. Again the little niggle at the back of her mind piped up, its quiet voice easing her worries just enough. Something was guiding her, something unseen but incredibly hard to evade. Putting her trust in this –ghost– should have made her nervous.
It should have, but it didn’t.
“I’m coming for you,” she sighed as her eyes grew heavy, sleep claiming her. “Don’t worry, you won’t be alone for long…”
The fresh Scottish air hit Brianna the second she stepped off the plane and the urge to rush off into the wilderness became almost overwhelming. But she managed to calm herself.
Frank, seeing her immediate excitement, took hold of Bree’s hand, his large warm fingers keeping her firmly at his side. “Stay close please, Brianna,” he muttered, turning his head to give her a firm but fair nod. “It’s busy here and your mother will never forgive me should I lose you in the airport before we’ve even begun, eh!”
Bree giggled as Frank tickled her palm and guided her towards customs and their luggage collection.
Reverend Wakefield was there in the arrivals lounge, a large friendly smile plastered across his face with a young lad by his side. Bree spotted her name twinned with Frank’s on the small white placard and she waved at the pair as Frank grappled with two heavy suitcases.
Blissfully the car ride passed quickly. Roger, slightly older than Bree by a few years, helped by pointing out a wide array of scenery as they drove from Glasgow up to Inverness. The mountains were amazing, the beauty of the flourishing heather captivated her in a way countryside never had before. Instantly she felt at ease here, her unconscious guide going almost silent as they made the last part of the drive through Aviemore and up through the last few miles of the Cairngorms national park.
“Do ye like it then?” Roger probed, his wide blue eyes alight with wonder at Bree as she pushed her nose against the glass of the small car as she tried to capture every moment of the passing landscape.
“Oh yes,” she sighed, sounding very much like Claire in that moment, her Bostonian accent seeming softer since her arrival on British soil. “It’s so beautiful out there.”
“I can take ye to see some nice places whilst our fathers work, Brianna, should you fancy? Fiona is verra excited about having someone to share Inverness wi’…”
Frank turned in his seat, listening as the kids conversed. His stomach lurched at the mention of the outskirts of Inverness, the past rearing up before him like a tidal wave as his thoughts turned to Claire’s disappearance and something in his belly told him to be wary of allowing Brianna to wander too far. Shaking his head, he dismissed the notion, certain that Bree knew nothing of her mother’s forays into Scottish history. ‘Silly,’ he admonished, not even stopping to warn his precocious daughter of the dangers. ‘Roger wouldn’t take her near to the stones,’ he continued, his internal monologue dismissing it as daft.
In the back, Bree smiled to herself. Roger and Fiona were willing and able to take her on adventures in the Scottish wilds and her inner voice was quietly pleased with the revelation. Still unsure as to why, she knew now that she could get where she needed to be.
The text in the bible sprung forth before her eyes as they finally pulled into the manse. She didn’t know who’d written it, or why…but she had the feeling she was about to find out.
“She’s beautiful,” Westley murmurs as he peers down at the pink bundle on Madeleine’s lap. “What’s her name?”
“Jane,” she beams. “Claudia Jane officially, but we intend to call her Jane.”
“She looks like you,” West smiles, glancing between Maddie and her newborn daughter. “Especially around the eyes.” Turning back towards Jane, he coos, “You’re a lucky baby, aren’t you? To be as pretty as your mama.”
Madeleine blushes, a look of sheepish pride on her face. “Would you like to hold her?” she asks him in a meek voice.
Westley nods, and with slow, meticulously careful movements he picks up the child and lays her against his chest. Jane fusses for a moment, but the effort proves too much for the drowsy infant and she quickly falls asleep.
“You’re a natural,” Madeleine observes. “She wasn’t nearly so happy with Kit.”
“I come from a big family,” he shrugs. “Always lots of babies to hold.”
“Well, I’m still impressed. You’d make a great dad someday.”
Westley glances back at her, and their eyes lock for what feels like the longest ten seconds of Maddie’s life. “Someday, maybe,” he whispers.