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#betty is slept on
sammym332 · 8 months
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the dead one. yeah, i havent thought about her in a long time
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arco-irisi · 7 months
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I didn't watch the series sorry
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ladysophiebeckett · 10 months
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watching scenes from the original so i can wash off whatever i just watched. 
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supercool-here · 8 months
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hold your horses
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My sister sent me this text a few minutes ago. This is my dream ok? And it came true
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starchasersunseeker · 6 months
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Okay so we all know both the song Betty and August {by Taylor Swift obviously} can be Jegulus coded..
So James is obviously James in this scenario
But what about Reg and Lily?
Who is Inez and who is Betty? Like of course both can be both depending on are we talking abiut canon compliant or not but who do you all prefer to think is who?
Do you prefer Inez as Reg, Betty as Lily, making it canon compliant with Jegulus having a wonderful summer but James coming back to Lily and marrying her and all of that
OR do yall prefer Inez as Lily, Betty as Reg, meaning James fucked up and left Reg to spend a summer with Lily but then coming back to Reg and spending the rest of their life's together, marrying etc?
Because I interchangeably think about this scenarios when listening to both songs
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b3l0v3dzz · 11 months
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Beronica should’ve been endgame
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ren-or-rin · 7 months
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On Simon Petrikov and Betty Grof's Ending
I don't have the brain at the moment for the full essay right now, but i wanted to get this out there before it slides into the abyss that is my short term memory. So, uh, spoilers for Fionna and Cake's ending?
I think the main problem that was shown about Betty and Simon's relationship is a lack of Reciprocity. I want to make it clear that both Betty and Simon made their own decisions in their past, that much is clear. They loved each other, and cared about each other. They were happy with their decisions at the time. They each had their own agency, and they still Chose to be together. But whereas Betty would always choose to sacrifice her own plans or wants to go along with Simon's choices, Simon never really seemed to do the same for her when they were still together, less out of any malicious intent and more just him not really noticing or even considering the possibility of doing something that wasn't part of his plan. For heck's sake, look at what happens after he tells the story about how he and Betty managed to connect again at the bus stop:
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Simon beloved, my sweet boy, my scrungly dumby. He just. Doesn't really seem to have considered that it was ever a possibility that he could've gone with her instead of the other way around. And that's really the core of it all. He's so focused on his own way that he never really thinks about what would've made Betty happy.
And here's the thing: Betty was happy either way. She always had the option to just turn around and go on that trip. But she chose to stay, because she wanted to be with Simon. And that's a valid choice! They got to share a moment together at the bus stop, which was wonderful. But a relationship needs for both people to be willing to make their own choices and to sometimes make the choice to take care of the other's needs. Simon never really did that for her. He'd do his thing, go for his goals, and Betty would choose to follow, often at the expense of her own stability and plans. Never the other way around.
He literally needed it spelled out for him in the most blatant metaphor of their relationship in the form of the Nova and Casper Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story that GOLBetty sent him to experience for him to finally understand.
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"I could've made the effort to support you, the way you always supported me"
And that's the understanding that Simon finally has by the end of the series. And when given a chance to re-visit that moment at the bus stop...
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He makes a different choice. Blorbo Simon finally learned to reciprocate and give in a relationship. And what's Betty's reaction?
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She's overjoyed. And yet, it's bittersweet. Because he knows that in real life, he didn't make the choice to go with her. This is really all just a vision, a memory where he and Betty can talk.
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He can't undo his choices in the past. Just like the game, he's reached a point where they can no longer get that happy ending where they're still able to be together. But he can still do one more thing for Betty, what she wants for him more than anything now. And he does:
He moves on.
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He makes friends.
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He explores the world.
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He finds new meaning.
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He gets help.
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After a thousand years of grief and madness, Simon Petrikov finally does what he's never really been able to:
He lives his life. Happily.
And that's really all that anyone could really ask for.
"We made our choices. We could've made better ones, but I don't have any regrets."
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thefangirl-16-blog · 1 year
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I wish the cabs were a real band
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izzy-b-hands · 1 year
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shout out to ND for making it incredibly hard to get caught up on COVID boosters; I think that may be why this time having COVID is kicking my ass so hard
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girlblocker · 1 year
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I hope all the adults in this show die
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tracksdowna · 1 year
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mmmmm thinking about him (scorpion)
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buddyhollyscurls · 2 years
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They really gave Marcela Armando's alcoholic phase huh
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nagdabbit · 2 months
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hello, i am in need of personal advice, preferably from a transfemme person and/or parent, who isn't siobhan because she is Too Close to the situation and i don't want to do anything brash like she does
#cis friend amy fakename and her wife betty fakename got divorced after betty came out and began to transition#they have remained EXTREMELY good friends and everything and coparent really well#amy came over tonight to talk to me about betty's behavior at present#theyve been seperated for just about three years now and betty began transitioning almost five years ago#and everything has been good between them#except amy found out from their seven y/o daughter cassie that bettys (married poly) gf stays over during her week with cassie#the kind of thing that wouldve been fine except that its out of the blue and amy had to hear it from a seven yo child#same with cassie going to a sleepover with a friend and finding out —again from cassie—that betty also stayed the night#and slept with one of cassie's friends moms#and apparently numerous other things that amy didnt want to get into so i get the feeling i would be even more pissed#but every time amy tries to discuss any kind of groundrules about strangers around cassie#especially ones that 1) any doesnt know anything about amd 2) are likely not permanent#betty says that she is being transphobic for asking that she doesn't just sleep with people while cassie is there and aware#i do not know how to like#help them#siobhan is firmly on amy's side and i am too#but i dont know what i can actually do thats helpful or actionable that wont hurt either of them#cuz i do believe that betty needs to have some boundaries when there is a CHILD involved#and a child tasked with keeping secrets at that#i just dont know how to support or how to talk to betty or if i even SHOULD cuz this is a new one for all of us#we created a lil family at the shop but somehow amy and betty are the only ones with kids#none of us know how to handle this cuz they dont know when to even ask us to do#if there is anything
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phanfinger · 4 months
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I guess Alexis was the only Meade that hadn't gone to jail yet.
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softgrungeprophet · 1 year
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no one asked but i filled one out for peterflash too
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i just think they're neat
and they make me go 💗😭💥
"there's no way this ends well" is tricky to me because i think they have the capacity in them for it to be a gentle and devoted relationship in theory, but i think that both are often very on-edge (though i feel like both but especially flash has mellowed out significantly) and i think that peter's temper has a lot of potential to completely destroy things between them even if he loves and is super protective of flash. peter can deal with flash's occasional anger just fine and flash would probably handle a couple outbursts fine, but idk if he would be able to last in the long term with peter if peter wasn't very careful about his temper, considering his whole... ptsd... lol
(though i at least know in my heart that peter would never hit him, regardless of past arguments and (fist)fights; not like that, and especially not after everything they've been through and the coma arc and stuff...)
anyway,
i guess it technically doesn't end well even in my au where they're married for like 20 years since peter ends up dying middle aged but... you know... they love each other
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eddiessluttywaist · 2 months
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the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition)
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AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.
summary: romantic night at the trailer, based off of this prompt!
pairing: bf!eddie x gf!reader
word count: 1, 944 words
content/warnings: MDNI, fluff, kissing, lots of touchy feels, a lil smutty?
a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage! also would like to credit @carolmunson for this prompt and @mrsjellymunson for tagging me! I haven’t written for eddie in so long, and this was a great way to get back into it <3 thank you! hope you enjoy my contribution <3
You basked in the scent of Eddie’s bedding, how he was ingrained into each and every fiber. Every motion, every shift of the sheets, you could smell him. He had foolishly left you to your own devices in his bedroom (which was surprising since the last time he did that, you almost dared touch his Sweetheart) so you indulged.
You curled up in the sprawling mess of blankets and sheets then grabbed the small throw pillow you had embroidered for him and buried your face in it. It was a delicate, pretty, little thing that stood out in his room even with its DnD theme, but he loved it. He loved that you made it, that you put so much effort into it just for him, so he slept with it every night. Unfamiliar with the concept of purely decorative pillows, he didn’t realize most people tucked such things off to the side before getting into bed each night. So, it smelled like cigarettes, convenience store aftershave, and his shampoo. The scent filled you with dizzying affection, only pulling it away from your face to then hug it to your chest as he walked back into his room.
“I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” he asked as he blew into one of the mugs and then used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it down. He was planning on cleaning those cartoon-themed cups properly for some absurdly fancy hot chocolate you had brought back from your family vacation. He was even planning on making another case for not wasting it on him, but, of course, his attention strayed easily when you were in his bed.
When his gaze finally fell on you, a lazy smile quirked up one side of his mouth. The handles of the mugs hung off the curl of his fingers which rested against his hips now as he took in the sight of you. He tilted his head to put it at the same angle as yours, his favorite pillow in your arms. You were an unbelievably endearing sight. The love that filled him was fluttery and overwhelming.
“And who said you could hold my favorite pillow?” He teased, sauntering over to the bed.
“I made it,” you scoffed with a smile.
He hums lazily in response, that crooked grin still hanging around as he shoved at the clutter on his bedside table. He picked up a small notebook, brow furrowed as he observed it only to haphazardly toss it towards his dresser to make more room. It was that or your tub of Betty Crocker, and he knew better.
You stared at his forearms, drinking in the movement of the musculature underneath. The warmth of his bedside lamp made it even better to watch the lines and curves of his tattoos beneath its comforting, golden light. How could something so simple be so beautiful? Your focus then trailed to the perfect structure of his hands as the mugs slid down his fingers. The ceramic cups clinked against the surface of the old table.
“I think as the creator, I have some right to hold it too,” you continued to make your case while he crawled into bed with you, giving you that subtle mischievous look he always got when he was toying with you.
His strong arms wrapped around you to secure you closer to him.
“I worked very hard on it, y’know.”
Eddie let out an “Is that right?” kind of sound, the texture of his jeans scratching against the bedding. He pulled you into him with such a desperate need to squish you as close as possible as if he thought you might be leaving soon. Those brown curls tickled your jaw while he nuzzled the side of your neck, audibly breathing you in.
“And it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to embroider all that Dungeons and—”
He finally pulled back to cut you off, smushing his face against yours in a way that made you giggle. Eddie’s kisses were always lazy and sloppy this late at night, but you loved them that way. His lips were warm albeit a bit rough from all the anxious biting that he abused them with. A pleased hum left him and vibrated deep in his throat, his large hands encasing the sides of your face and his fingers tangling in your hair. His rings would probably tug a strand or two when he pulled them away, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.
The way your body relaxed reassured him, and he slid his arms down to pull you in again so your stomach could be flat against his own. Then, he let out a small chuckle when he had to separate from you to pluck the throw pillow out from between you. Eddie placed it elsewhere with emphasized tenderness while you stared at those ruddy lips that you missed already.
“Pillow was in the way,” he murmured in a low tone, kissing you back as you pulled him in for a few more pecks.
“And here I was thinking you were starting to love it more than me.”
“Aw, now don’t be like that. You know that’s not true,” Eddie drawled, grinning over that unconvincing little pout you gave him.
He sat back on his legs to move the bedding out of his way, then pulled you forward by your thighs which he readily settled in between. There was nothing he wanted more than to be thoroughly pressed against you. It wasn’t even about sex, at least not always. He just loved the feeling of you being so close to him. The softness of your stomach against his taut abdomen. The plushness of your chest pressed against the flat planes of his own. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way your bodies fit together too, but he’d melt into you if he could.
Eddie was the type to lean into you while you were walking together, ending up so close that his wallet chain would keep bumping against you. He always sought out your hand to hold or your shoulders for him to drape his arm across (which of course always ended up with him folding you into him so your face would press against a Hellfire symbol or band name, and he could settle his chin on the top of your head). 
“I don’t think I believe you.”
You crossed your arms, failing to keep up with your façade, especially with that smile and those dimples.
“Well then, my dramatic lil lady,” He spoke with that same theatrical cadence that he used during campaigns, his brow furrowed with determination. You groaned over the incoming mawkishness, rolling your gaze up to the ceiling and smiling to the point that the apples of your cheeks ached.
“I suppose I must convince you.”
His hand settled on the side of your neck, thumb brushing against the center of your throat as he dipped down for another kiss.
“You’re so corny,” you laughed against his lips. 
“And you… taste like vanilla,” he sighed, laughing with you after.
“Mm, well, that is the work of Ms. Betty Crocker,” you smiled up at him, gently tapping his nose. “Speaking of…”
Eddie groaned, mentally cursing himself for even bringing it up as you squirmed out from underneath him to grab the container from behind the abandoned mugs. He watched you intently while you sucked a scoop of frosting off your finger. When you met his gaze, he gave you a cheeky grin that he failed to conceal by biting his lip and then wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“You’re a child,” you snorted, reaching out to tap some frosting onto the tip of his nose.
“And you’re devastating,” he countered in a voice so sickeningly saccharine with love that you wiped the frosting right back off. He caught your hand and sucked the sugar from the pad of your thumb before you could fully pull back.
“Who knew the local bad boy could be such a softie,” you teased softly, scooping some more frosting to feed it to him. Eddie playfully bit down just enough to make you laugh.
“I believe you mean ‘the local freak.’”
“Mm, tomato, tomahto,” you shrugged, lapping up some more frosting off your finger. His rich umber eyes seemed to glitter in the dull lighting, his pupils dilating. You looked up at him through your lashes when you felt his stare.
“We’re gonna have a problem if you keep doing that,” Eddie’s voice was rough even as he smiled over you.
“What?” you laughed, full of faux innocence. He just smirked. “No, what?”
“You know what.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you shrug, going to scoop some more frosting out when he snags the tub from you.
“Wh— hey!”
You already missed his warmth when he sank back onto folded legs, dipping his forefinger into the tub.
“You’re gonna get your rings all sticky,”
You blushed when that made him cackle, but you at least got the comfort of his body again as he hunched over you. His smile was tangible against the side of your neck, his hair tickling you again.
“Not the only thing that—”
“Eddie, shu-u-ush,” you laughed, and he flattened himself on top of you again, leaving tacky, sugary kisses on your neck while you pried the vanilla frosting from his hand. He gave up on keeping it from you, happy to have a free hand again to seek out your waist with.
Holding the container with one hand, you arched your other arm over him to scoop just one more—you swore just one more! —fingertip of frosting, but he was pulling back before you could even dip into it.
“Gimme that—”
“So rude taking things from me today,” you tutted, watching with a pout as he fed himself some of your treat.
“Have to have you all to myself,” he mimicked some toxic-alpha-dude-type bravado, but he couldn’t even get through it without chuckling at the end.
Eddie prodded at the dwindling supply of Betty Crocker’s then tossed the container back onto his bedside table. But you reached out to catch his wrist and brought his index finger to your mouth before he could bring it to his own.
He groaned, leaning onto one elbow while he gawked at you. His full lips parted at the sight of you, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you sucked on his finger. Damn.
“You never play fair.”
“And you like that,” you stated proudly once he slid his finger back out of your mouth.
“Course I do,” he grunted, sliding the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “May have taken a few attempts to graduate, but I’m not that dumb.”
Your following giggle was breathy and fleeting as you sunk into the tension filling the room. You took in the growing heat in his gaze that tracked his thumb while it hooked your bottom lip. He mimicked opening his own mouth as you did so without even being asked, making him smile and drag his tongue over his lip. He slid his pointer finger down your tongue again, letting it trail down until he was holding your chin between his curled finger and thumb. Keeping your chin down and lips parted, he leaned in. The kiss was firmer—more determined—and desperate. He was putting every ounce of his desire into you, and this time you were the one melting. You felt like you were sinking deeper into that old mattress, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him with you.
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