#Archie's Joke Book

[archiecovers]

January 1956

[bughead-in-the-comics]

From Beauty and the Feast, Archie's Joke Book #22 (1956).

[browsethestacks]

5 Random Comics

[curufiin]

Also another unpopular opinion: the WWE dudebros are NOT LOTR. THEY ARE SILMARILLION ELVES. aragorn could NEVER be kit wilson here are 10000000 reasons why

[cantsayidont]

Summer 1996. Speaking of getting real: Barbara Gordon confronts Batman about the events of THE KILLING JOKE, in which she was paralyzed by the Joker. This is part of John Ostrander's other major contribution to DC lore; in SUICIDE SQUAD, he and Kim Yale had revived Babs, who had been summarily discarded by Bat-books editor Denny O'Neil as surplus to requirements and also a girl, and reinvented her as Oracle. This scene is from the first story in THE BATMAN CHRONICLES #5, which is not her first appearance as Oracle, but rather an "Oracle: Year One" story chronicling the circumstances of how she created that role. It's infuriating to me that DC has since discarded this version of Barbara Gordon in order to reduce her to Dick Grayson's girlfriend, while also trying to make her younger and younger.

[beggiefiles]

Jughead Daffy-Nitions; Archie's Joke Book Magazine #52

[rayslittlekitten]

Grumpy Old Man

A/N: Okay, so this is my first little Joel Miller fic. This was inspired by episode 3 +5. Just a fluffy little thing. Hope you enjoy!

Rating: G

Word Count: 974

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN! Reader

Plot: Your partnership with Joel evolves.

Warnings: None

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Joel not grumpy. It’s his norm. You can’t tell if it’s an old man thing or he’s just always been perpetually acutely miserable even before you met him. Either way, you find it adorable. And when you tell him that, the corners of his mouth dip down even more and at that point, you don’t know if he’s flirting with you or just emphasizing his discontent.

Joel is not an affectionate man and doesn’t really say or share much. You’ve tried to talk him to open up, but he quickly shuts down the conversation as soon as it gets too personal. You never really know what he’s thinking, but you always notice the little thoughtful things he does for you. Aside from protecting you, making sure you’re fed and have a safe space, he also has his own language of letting you know he cares in other ways.

You notice he usually gives you a bigger portion of food, especially if it’s something you like. Food is hard to come by so you always feel bad when he does that, but you would feign you've had enough to eat so you let him have the rest.

Every now and then when you both go scavenging, if he finds something he knows you'll appreciate, he'll throw it in his bag and gift it to you at a later time even though he's always told you to only take what's useful because you should travel light. To him, anything useless regardless of how small it was, was just wasting precious space.

Says the man who found a stash of worn out Archie comic books, which you once mentioned you enjoyed reading growing up, and quietly shoved them into your backpack when you weren’t looking, probably while you were asleep when he kept watch. He doesn't feel an obligation to you nor distrust you, but for his peace of mind, there are some nights he feels safer keeping an eye open.

Another time, you had found your worn down boots replaced with a newer pair.  Joel apparently found a decent pair your size and swapped them out with the ones you've been trekking everywhere with for a while. The rubber soles were thinning and the one was only staying on the bottom of the shoe because of duct tape. When you made a joke about them not being your favorite color, he said he had checked and that was the only option.

You thank him every time for the small gestures, but he always just grunts and brushes them off or changes the subject. The man of a few words sure says a lot through his actions and tonight is no different.

The temperature had dropped drastically and there wasn't much to keep warm except for two dinky little sleeping bags. A fire was out of the question, not wanting to draw any attention. Joel didn't seem so keen on the idea at first, but he had suggested to use each other’s body heat to stay warm. This is the first time the two of you have ever been so physically close together, aside from that one time he pinned your body against a concrete wall and clamped his hand over your mouth to quiet you to avoid being caught by FEDRA when a trade between your crew and his went sour because you all were at the wrong place at the wrong time. FEDRA had raided the abandoned, decrepit building that was once an elementary school and everyone scattered and ran, but you and Joel were the only ones who escaped as far as you both knew. Joel doesn't take on strays, but having already been acquainted, the two of you stuck together ever since to increase your chances of survival.

It was a bit awkward at first, as the both of you have always remained platonic and only saw each other as allies but you'd be lying if you said there isn't some tension between you two. The more time you spent with him, the more you started looking at him differently, and sometimes you think he senses a change as well, but it's hard to read Mr. McMoodypants.  Whether it's human nature, convenience, or just having no one else but each other, this partnership seems to be breaching companionship.

You're both snug inside a large sleeping bag that he merged together with the two. Your backs are right up against one another which seems silly since it defeats the purpose of keeping each other warm, but he could still be crabby about that comment you made about him being adorably grumpy. Trying to get into a more comfortable position, you turn over and curl up behind him. You rest your hand on his waist and feel him stiffen underneath it for a second. After a few seconds, you feel him grab your hand to bring it up to his chest. His fingers interlace with yours and you press yourself closer to him, basking in the warmth his back is radiating. You can feel his heart slowly beating beneath his cozy flannel.

"Who knew the grumpy old man has a warm heart," you joke.

Joel lets out a deep sigh and ignores you.

After a few quiet moments, you check to see if he's still awake.

"Joel?"

"You're a few words away from getting kicked out of this sleeping bag so choose your next words wisely," he responds, staying in the same position.

You can't help but smirk. He's as grumpy as he gets.

"Good night." You strain your neck to give enough reach to boldly plant a kiss on his cheek before finally settling in.

A few seconds later, Joel surprisingly brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your fingers, his beard tickling you.

"Good night." 

[mistyresolve]

Not sure if you’re doing requests still.

If want to ignore this, feel free.

How I was wondering how would Ghost and Gaz react if their s/o had sweet goofy Labrador that fellow them around and flop onto their laps, whenever they sat down?

Something super cute?

Word Count - 1.7k

Tags/Warnings - Fluff, puppiess

A/N - I've recently been so unbelievably obsessed with livestock guardian dog....I'm well aware that a lab is not the right breed but still

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form 

Ghost 

You had come to visit the base on your day off. And just like every other time you did so, you brought your dog, Archie, with you. She was a 2-year-old energetic, long-haired golden lab, who had yet to grow out of her puppy faze. Always tripping over her still-too-big feet and chewing on anything and everything.

Archie was well known around the base, and the boys adored her. She got all the attention a dog could want. And more.

Archie also had an unpredictable favourite, whom she always ran to first, and everyone for when he appeared. Including you. You always had a hard time getting her back in the car when it was time to leave when Ghost was around. On more than one occasion you have had to ask him to go hide somewhere so she would listen to you.

It was so bizarre because aside from the occasional pat on the side, he basically ignored her. Ghost never seemed to mind though. He never once complained about being “inconvenienced” or annoyed by Archie following him around. Frankly, you had your suspicions that he enjoyed the dog's company. 

As soon as you let Archie out of the back seat she booked it for the hanger, leaving you in her dust. You didn’t feel the need to recall her and already knew the rest of the team would be there—sitting around one of the Humvees, pretending to be working on it. The oversized garage doors were pushed open, and when she disappeared through them and into the building you could hear the guys greeting her.

“Hello, pretty girl!” you didn’t need to see him to know it was MacTavish and him putting on the iconic puppy voice, “Who’s a good girl?” he said, knowing damn well the moment Ghost showed up Archie would forget he ever existed. 

Then Price’s voice, “Archie,” followed by playful barking. They were definitely riling her up, “Where’s your mom, huh?” 

Before you rounded the corner you knew she was running in a circle, greeting each and every one of them, expecting a pat and scratch. When she saw you enter after her, she barked once in acknowledgment, before continuing her rounds. 

You took a seat in the circle, jumping into the conversation they were having before they arrived. Much to your surprise, they were significantly dirty; so they were actually working on the Humvee before this. 

Archie disappeared further into the hanger, doing a quick perimeter check. Obviously, she was looking for a certain someone. When she came back, too soon, it meant that Ghost wasn’t around, so she was making do with her second favourite, Soap. She was on her back, exposing her belly for rubs. To which Soap obliged, as it was his end goal to overthrow Ghost. 

You looked around, “Where is Ghost?” It was strange that he wasn’t here. It was near the end of the day on a Friday. Usually, they all met up for the last few hours to bullshit before heading out for drinks. 

At the sound of his name, Archie perked up, looking to you for confirmation. When she realized he still wasn’t here she turned her attention back to Soap. Whom frowned at you, “You’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“He and Gaz took twenty-two out for a test drive,” Price checked his watch and then rocked back in his seat with a frown, “Should have been back by now though.”

22 was the other Humvee that was normally parked in the hangar, a “22” stencilled onto the side of the hood. 22 was a “Project of Passion”, given to the 141 as a joke a year ago. The damn thing didn’t start when we first got it. But the guys saw it as an offence and vowed to get it back on the road. 

His ears must have been burning because shortly after you asked, you heard the rumble of the vehicle approaching. It pulled into the open space before someone killed the engine, and the doors slammed shut.

“Fucking piece of shit.” 

That was definitely Ghost. 

Archie sprung up from her spot at Soap's feet, meeting up with Ghost as he emerged around the back of the Humvee. He was using a rag to wipe something off his hands angrily when his entire demeanour changed,  “Hey, Archie-girl,” he dropped to one knee, getting down to her level to give her a good scratch behind the ear. She was wagging her tail so hard that her entire body swayed with it. Her mouth was open as she panted in excitement. 

Soap leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, sulking. 

Ghost stood back up. That would be all the attention he would give Archie and it was like he gave her the moon, “Engine nearly blew up,” at some point, he had taken off his jacket, and was wearing just a green t-shirt. His arms were stained black from car oil. He walked back to 22 and this time everyone followed after him, curious as to what the issue was. 

The jacket hanging over the open window was all the evidence you needed to know why he had taken it off. The black stains on his arms mirrored those on his jacket. Only way worse. 

Both you and Soap had to avoid eye contact with each other or you’d probably laugh right in Ghost’s face. 

The hood was propped up already and Gaz was bracing his weight on it as he leaned forward, looking exasperated. 

You jumped up onto the work table to watch them contemplate what to do next. Soap asked a question and both Ghost, and Gaz groaned. Ghost invited Soap to take a look underneath the vehicle, the two of them sliding beneath it so only their bottom halves were visible. 

Archie joined them. 

Immediately. And enthusiastically.

She crouched low and inched herself until she was right next to Ghost. She didn’t interrupt him as he explained what he was thinking was wrong to Soap. When they came back out Archie again followed them. 

After an hour of back and forth, they decided to give it up for the day. Sitting back around in a circle, Archie had squeezed herself between Ghost’s feet and the chair, her head resting on his shoe. She was alert and watching everyone around her, but she was calm. 

You silently noticed how Ghost kept his foot extra still, careful not to disturb the pup. 

Admittedly, the sight of him being so attentive to her presence did something to you. There was a little bit of history between you and Ghost, but both of you agreed that getting attached to each other in this line of work could be dangerous. Torturous, even. Although you no longer actively seek him out, you still have feelings for him. 

Archie must have sensed all that and made a dog-equivalent bond with him. 

You shared that same peace and excitement when around him.  

Gaz

It was the next day and Gaz was given the day off. Why? Because he requested it? Why? Because it was Yogi’s birthday. 

Gaz had taken Yogi to get a cut and groom, a pup cup, and then let him run wild in the pet store. When they came home at the end of the day, Yogi was wearing a little blue bandana from the groomers and Gaz was carrying a bag full of toys and chewies.

“Oh my goodness,” you exclaimed upon seeing the Yogi, crouching to his level to get a better look at him, “Aren’t you the most handsome boy.”

When it was time for dinner, Gaz had given Yogi his own “plate”. He went so far as to garnish it with a milk bone.  

Now it was 9 p.m. and you and Gaz sat on either side of the couch. His legs propped up on the ottoman, his ankles crossed. An arm draped over the back of the sofa, his other hand resting atop your dog, mindlessly petting him. You played with the end of his tail. If only because that was all you could reach without having to splay across the sofa. 

You were halfway through your movie when you had an epiphany.  

“He’s hardly my dog anymore,” you frown, waving a hand at the scene in front of you. 

Gaz lazily turned his head over to you, “Hmm?”, Then he followed your gaze to the dog on his lap, “Oh. He hasn’t been your dog for a while,” he said matter-of-factly and gave your senior dog a pat on the shoulder to add emphasis. 

Yogi’s tail begins to wag, beating you in the leg with it. It was like adding salt to a wound. You raised Yogi from when he was 8 weeks old. He was now 10 and his brown fur had long since turned grey around his face. 

He’s known Gaz for all of 3 years.

They must have made a little boy pact at some point during those three years because there was no clear day or moment Yogi stole his heart back from you and gave it to Gaz…

“Don’t say that,” you glared over at him, “he’s my baby.” 

Gaz smiled, “Nah. He’s a big boy,” he moved to scratch under his jaw, right where he liked it most, “Yogi’s a man. A man-dog.” 

…That or Gaz was ploying him with threats when you weren’t around. 

Down the hall, the washing machine beeped. Since it was Wednesday, it was Gaz’s turn to do laundry. Most of it being his clothes and uniforms. He tapped on Yogi, signalling for him to get up. Yogi was slow moving but he jumped from the couch, stretching out with a yawn. 

You paused the movie so Gaz wouldn’t miss any while he was switching laundry, “Yogi…” you said in the saddest, most pathetic voice you could muster when the old dog started after your boyfriend; all too willing to abandon you on the couch. He looked back at you and began to make his way back to you. Without a doubt, it was out of obligation and not want. 

“Yogi,” his name was echoed down the hall. 

That was it took and the dog carried on down the hall. 

“You Judas,” you mumbled to him, knowing he was half deaf. 

And a dog.

Masterlist

A/N - Sorry Gaz's part is so short...I've never really written the guy before :/

Taglist - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 

[mercurytojupiter]

the labyrinth - prologue

a/n: i'm going through an archie madekwe phase no one look at me

warnings: farleigh being farleigh, which includes underage drugs, drinking, cigarettes and sex 18+

fic summary: ariadne gavin and her childhood best friend turned enemy return to saltburn for the last time

Ariadne Gavin wishes she could say the first Catton she met was Felix or even Venetia. She would have loved to explain to people how she had tripped into Venetia at the airport when she first landed in England, or how she had been greeted by Felix's already tall, grinning face.

Instead, the truth was, the only reason the Cattons held their arms open to her as they did was because of Farleigh fucking Start.

Ariadne had met Farleigh when she was seven. Her father, Laurence Gavin, was a new money tech mogul who was making a name for himself selling computers. He had dragged her along to a fundraising gala, and it was there that Ariadne found herself forever enamoured with the Cattons.

Ariadne had never met another child before. Her upbringing was limited to her Nanny, Lilian, the house staff, Douglas, Marcus, and Tyrone, and her mother, Vienna. Ariadne had only even known that white people existed because of her storybooks.

"Hello," She whispers politely. "My name is Ariadne Marie Gavin."

"I'm Farleigh." The little boy shrugs.

Ariadne tilts her head. "How old are you?"

Farleigh looks at her strangely. "Seven and a half."

Ariadne pouts. "Oh. I'm just seven."

Farleigh's eyes widen in panic. "That's okay! Don't be upset! It's okay to be smaller than me! Normally I'm the smallest person."

"Youngest." Ariadne corrects.

"M'kay," Farleigh says, but makes no move to say the sentence correctly. He jumps down from his chair and squishes her cheeks. "Do you want to play hide and seek?"

"Won't the grown-ups be mad we're gone?"

"They never notice." Farleigh smiles.

That smile got Ariadne in more trouble than she could count over the next thirteen years.

At some point between seven and a half and fourteen, Farleigh stopped being her only friend. Or, more accurately, Farleigh began to make friends and it meant that Ariadne was going to be alone unless she made some of hers.

Or, that was, until Saltburn.

Ariadne didn't like the person Farleigh was becoming ever since they'd become teenagers. He'd been mean, and flaky, and worst of all, he kept hitting on her friends.

And yes, perhaps she was a little jealous, but she had always been territorial, and Farleigh was hers, not Ashley's or Jessica's. Besides, Farleigh grew like a beanstalk, and all her friends only liked him because he was tall. They didn't spend Sunday evenings conditioning his hair or laugh at his terrible -and slightly mean- jokes.

Overall, they had begun to drift a tad, but a crack was not a canyon, as her father liked to say.

But that didn't mean Farleigh wasn't still the only person her age she truly trusted, so he still came over to her house every Sunday to do homework and complain.

"Did I tell you my mom's family wants me to come to England over the summer?" He sighs, stretched out on her floor.

Ariadne has her nose tucked into her copy of Pride and Prejudice for her book report and looks up suddenly. "Excuse me?"

"I know, right? Like, why would I waste my summer-" Farleigh starts.

Ariadne shushes him. "Shut up, Far. Doesn't your mom's family pay for all your mom's shit? And yours, for that matter?"

"I mean, yeah, but they always said I'm out after eighteen." He shrugs.

Ariadne grins. "Because they don't know you. But if, say, you went to England in the summers, made connections with them, flashed some puppy dog eyes," she trails off.

Farleigh raises a brow. "You want me to go to them like some kind of homeless kid asking for spare change on Alameda Street?"

Ariadne kicks him. "No, I want you to use your brain. You're going to be my business partner once I inherit, obviously, but it's going to be obvious that we're only working together because we're friends if you don't at least have a college degree. Now, imagine, we get into some fancy British university, we network with like a billion people, and suddenly we have investors lining up at graduation."

"All it'll cost me is my pride." Farleigh grumbles.

Ariadne purses her lips. "Not if I come with. Then, it's just going to be us, two rich kids, going and being rich on a different continent over the summers."

Farleigh sits up. "I'm going to hate this, aren't I?"

"Not in the long run." Ariadne grins.

Ariadne wishes she'd never suggested going to Saltburn. She and Farleigh were one change in conversation away from escaping the Cattons and she'd never forgive herself for it.

Maybe it's the new money, manifest destiny, red-blooded American in her, but she never liked the look of Saltburn. She missed her modern, sleek home in Bel-Air, and from a single look, she knew Farleigh did too.

Saltburn was cold and ancient. There was no carpet, only million-year-old Persian rugs. No many-buttoned showers, only antiquated tubs. They didn't even have a bidet, which Ariadne thought was borderline uncivilized.

But they adjusted, slowly but surely, to the famous, trademark brand of Catton Madness that had sent his mother running for the hills all those years before.

Farleigh hadn't known that Felix and Venetia were their age, but they certainly were, and they were wilder and more English than anyone Ariadne had ever met.

She also found that they took to calling her demeaning, patronizing pet names like "Pet" or "Girlie." Farleigh got about the same treatment, only, in her opinion, worse, because there was no way to spin "Boy" or "Dog" as respectful.

Vee liked to call her "Newmo", short for "New Money" and Ariadne knew this was an insult, but bit her tongue.

She did that a lot, after Saltburn.

She starts at St. Mary Magdelene's Secondary Academy for Girls with Venetia that year, and Farleigh attends St. John's Secondary Academy for Boys with Felix. Twice a year, the adjoined schools have huge dances and dinners where they exercise their best manners.

The Gala is poorly chaperoned, as it is also the only time the faculty gets to mix and mingle. The dinner is mostly manner-based, but by the time the dance begins, most adults turn their heads away from the teenage drama and illegal activity.

When their first Fall Gala comes around, Ariadne looks around excitedly for Farleigh, peering through the crowd of white faces. She wants to tell him everything that's happened since they separated at the start of the school year.

Unfortunately, all she gets is Felix's stupid face. "Where's Farleigh?"

Felix rolls his eyes grinningly. "Smoking outside. Again."

Ariadne blinks, takes a step back, and laughs disbelievingly. Farleigh had gotten more rebellious since they'd become teenagers, sure, and maybe England was rubbing off on him, but he never smoked. "Are you kidding?"

Felix snickers. "He said you'd be pissed off."

That was another thing Ariadne hated about the Cattons. Everything was a fucking joke to them.

"No fucking shit!" She whisper-shouts. "He can't- He's going to ruin his lungs! This is my fault, I knew it was a bad idea for us to go to different schools!" She bites her lip, flicking her wrists in and out.

It was a terrible nervous tick. Lilian had always said it was unbecoming. Ariadne couldn't shake it.

Felix steadies her by the arms, charming doe eyes staring right into hers. "Farleigh will be fine, everyone smokes once in a while. Besides, he's finally letting loose, isn't that worth something?"

Ariadne wants to spit that it is not something, because Farleigh doesn't need to let loose, he needs more structure. He'd already been let loose his whole life and Ariadne had spent most of hers cleaning up the debris.

She doesn't yell at Felix, just shakes her head mutely.

"Well, maybe you need to let loose too. Vee's got weed or shrooms or something in the bathroom, go try that."

And, shockingly, Ariadne lets Felix lead her to the door of the Girl's bathroom, where a small puff of fogged-up air escapes.

"Have fun, Pet!"

He shoves her inside and lets the door swing closed.

Vee offers her a joint, grinning, and for the first time, Ariadne's thoughts cease.

After Ariadne is introduced to weed for the first time, she no longer worries about Farleigh. Still, the worst does not come until the Spring Gala, when she walks in on him losing his virginity to Arabella Vaillancourt.

All the jealousy she had felt in middle school hit a breaking point then. This wasn't flirting or even a kiss on the cheek. Arabella had claimed Farleigh in a way Ariadne would never be able to compensate for.

Ariadne turns her head away from the sight of them, sweating and naked and wholly consumed by each other and goes back to her dorm.

Vee sees her tears and offers her a line of coke, and from that point on, Ariadne and Farleigh are no longer friends or even allies.

When the summer break retrieves them again, she hardly looks at him in favour of making jokes with Venetia and walking Felix through the process of getting girls to like him. While Felix was pretty, most of the girls their age couldn't stand him because he was so boring to talk to. She pierces his eyebrow so he has something interesting to talk about. Felix is horrible at flirting, too. Not like Farleigh, she thinks, recalling the many girls he had wooed bitterly.

Soon, everyone at Saltburn forgets that Ariadne and Farleigh were ever even a pair. Or, in their respective cases, at least pretend to forget.

[honeybeedewdrops]

The Doll House | J.Seresin

Summary: Its Christmas Eve and Hangman is tasked with putting together the barbie dream house. Unfortunately for him it's a lot more work than he thought.

______________________________________________________________

It's Christmas Eve and to be honest Christmas was on of your favourite holidays. The best part Santa now that you had kids you could make it just as magical as your parents did.

Your two boys Alex and Archie were already asleep now was your daughter she was a little more tough. "Mommy can you read to me?" she asks as you tuck her in "Of course" you say pulling a Christmas book from her shelf and begin to read. You finish up the book and kiss her goodnight "Mommy when's Santa coming?" "When you're asleep" "but I can't sleep" "well then Santa won't come" "what no he has to come" "then close your eyes and rest" she sighs and does but opens then right back up. "can you lay with me" you nod and stay with her rubbing circles and playing with her hair anything to get her to sleep.

You leave her room and head downstairs seeing it's 12:00am. "Ok she's finally asleep. So i'll start on the stockings and you can start building the small cars set up for the boys, then we'll finish up with the barbie dream house" "ok but once done with the cars set up i'll start the Barbie dream house" Jake said. You walk up to him "hmm it's a lot of pieces and very confusing are you sure you can handle it?" "Baby I can handle anything you throw at me" "If you're sure" You say leaving him to the cars track and Barbie dream house.

Jake put together the cars track in no time "Ok Barbie dream house lets get this done" Jake says getting out a knife and tearing the box opened. He pulls out the pieces and gets to work, about 10 minutes into building it he was letting out a stream of curse words. You walk into the living room and see Jake sitting on the floor getting very upset. You chuckle before walking over to him "I told you to wait" "Yeah well this shit is stupid" He says holding up a piece. You lean down and give him a kiss on the lips "how about you take a break for a second and then we'll get back to it" He sighs and rubs his face before getting up. You stand up with him and cuddle on the couch as well as making out a few times "ok you ready to finish this for our girl?" "ok let's go" and you both get to work.

"this is stupid. God damn the things we do" Jake says getting frustrated once again. "Ok take a chill pill" you say taking the instructions from him. "you sit" you say pointing at the couch. Jake sat on the couch and watched. "Ok" you say looking at the piece you were holding "what the shit is this" Jake just smirks but it falls as he watches you take apart all his hard work "what are you doing?" "This piece is wrong" and you take others and continue to build.

Soon you finished the doll house "How?" He asks shocked you chuckle "It was quite simple sometimes all you need is a little help" "But i'm the man i'm supposed to build things" He jokes "Shut up you fool we all know i'm the man of the house" "Oh really" he says coming after you. "Jake no stop" you squeal "Shhh don't wake the kids" he chuckles as you two kiss.

You break away "ok come on let's go to bed we need some sleep before the little grimlins are up" you say heading up to bed. You looked at the clock and see that its 2:30am. You sigh knowing it's going to be little sleep for you. If it weren't for the doll house then you'd probably be in bed sooner, but you knew it would be worth it to see your little girls face.

The next morning your kids were up at 6:00am and boy were you guys tired but the looks on your kids faces were amazing. Your kids were so excited and couldn't believe it. The look on your daughters face was priceless. You couldn't be happier, you had a wonderful family. "I love you" You say walking up to Jake and wrapping your arms around him "I love you too"

"Daddy come play" your daughter says dragging towards the house. "Ok ok i'm coming" You smile seeing your twins playing with their cars and your husband and daughter having the time of their lives.

[archiecovers]

August 1966

[bughead-in-the-comics]

From Can't Dance, Archie's Joke Book #1 (1953).

[xluciferseyeshadowx]

I have been reading a new Fanfic, as you can probably tell. And holy shit. I cannot stop reading for the life of me.

It is a fake-dating radioapple trope (angel’s idea, of course) that has been going on for a while and regularly updates.

HOLY SHIT, the characters are so well written. Alastor is his cocky self, with a healthy serving of dad jokes & Lucifer is a perfect balance between “King of Hell” and “Depressed duck Dad”.

It’s a long one too guys! Lots of shenanigans and PLENTY of angst (with more to come)! I needed to hand-draw a poster of it for my room because I wouldn’t shut up about printing fan-art for it.

The writing style is so unique, poetic and well-written that it feels like it should be an actual book, to be honest. It also updates constantly.

Definitely give it a shot if you have time!

[llolianarchives]

RAMSHACKLE DORM HEADCANONS (REVISED)

Our little home is not appreciated enough so I shall take matters onto my own hands and spread self-indulgent ideas 😤😤😤 Behold! PS: I made something like this before so this is like a revised version.

“UNCLE” GHOSTS

The Ramshackle Ghosts were each given personal names by the Prefect, corresponding to the ghost's existing letter.

This was done after Yuu got tired of calling them Ghost [insert letter of the alphabet] all of the time, whilst also adding to their individuality.

Why did the Prefect have to give them names? Don't they have names of their own? Well, they used to when they were still a part of the living. The ghosts still remember who they were and what they excelled at (such as being a chef or a magift player) but they cannot claim namesakes or identities as their own when they're already dead unless you harbored much significance when you were alive, recorded in history to not be forgotten such as Eliza.

"Ghost A" is now "Archie" — very rough and tumble. He is a ball of ferocious, mischievous energy enough to rival Grim's own. Despite his size, Archie is quite the fighter. His first reaction to the Prefect's problems is to suggest that they duke it out headfirst! But in truth, he is plenty caring and easily fusses over Yuu and Grim's physical health (complete with dark humor). He teaches the duo sports whenever the opportunity arises. His extreme head ruffles are the silliest things.

"Ghost B" is now "Bernard or Bernie" — who's full of joy and fun (maybe that's why he's so plump). He's always ready with a joke to brighten Yuu's mood, always eager to please Yuu and Grim by pampering them with already-in-the-house gifts or food. Spooky mischief is his favorite pastime. Yuu believes that he gives the best hugs and cooks the best food.

"Ghost C" is now "Clyde" — who's generally a very laid-back and lax individual. Among the three, he's one of the wiser ghosts, always willing to set aside his tomfoolery for a heart-to-heart conversation with Yuu, giving advice and being an open ear. However, he still is, of course, a lover of mischief and spooks. (Note: Do not accept the “therapeutic” cigarettes he offers.)

The Ghosts are skilled at sewing clothes of their own (hence their tailored hats and capes). They were the ones who made Yuu and Grim's Halloween costumes, but they've also helped Yuu expand their wardrobe by using extra textiles and fabrics. The ghosts sew ribbons for Grim as well (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

They love oldies music. Stuff like ABBA, Don McLean, Micheal Jackson, Queen, John Lennon, The Smiths, Air Supply, The Carpenters— you name it!

They can also shift their voice into an exponentially low range, similar to Alto, Bass, and Baritone. Every now and then, they comically break into a chorus for fun.

RAMSHACKLE BUILDING

Prior to the building's renovation post-VDC, 70% of its rooms were either barricaded still, or very unclean. Yuu and Grim, themselves, had yet to fully explore their dorm in fear of collapsing wood, nesting bugs, or hidden rats— things that they didn't want to deal with if they could help it.

A garden stands in the dormitory's yard, by the farther side of it. Yuu had taken up gardening sometime after BOOK 1. They discussed with Grim that walking back and forth to the canteen wasn't very efficient. It started small and expanded into bearing vegetables and fruits. Eventually, the prefect built an arch trellis for the vines to grow, bringing the whole look together. (Note: While the produce their garden grows does give them the opportunity to cook/ bake at home, their inventory still wouldn't last the entirety of the winter holidays. It also wouldn't be efficient to eat the same meals over and over.)

Birds like common sparrows, crows, and ravens tend to perch or nest on Ramshackle's barren trees. They're such a regular sight that Grim and Yuu have stopped trying to drive them away, instead welcoming them into the property.

Ramshackle, while seemingly unimpressive at first, does wield an aura of unease once you're indoors. When you're wandering the halls by yourself, it oddly feels as if you're being watched... Something vague might've peeked out from a corner. Or, did that painting just glance at you? It totally did. Are you mad? This feeling is increased tenfold in the evenings. Yuu and Grim were disturbed by this initially, but have come to accept it as the house's second nature. Ace, Deuce, and the VDC boys were also victims of this phenomenon.

THE GREAT GRIM: ARCHMAGE EXTRAORDINAIRE!!!

When Yuu and Grim first began cohabiting in Ramshackle Dorm, the Prefect had given him an intense cat bath to wash away any grime, tangled-up fur, or Seven forbid... fleas.

Grim sleeps with Yuu on the bed but doesn't use the blankets, instead opting to curl up beside his henchman or lie flat on Yuu's stomach (much to their annoyance and Grim's amusement).

He pouts when Yuu is away for too long, concern and loneliness crawling underneath his skin because how dare his henchman leave their boss like this?!

Despite how much he complains about housework, gardening, maintenance, and such, he still tries his best to help out whenever Yuu works. It actually ends up being rather fun though.

MISCELLANEOUS

The Headmage occasionally comes over for tea and chats with a box of whatever snacks he's managed to grab. Usually, however, it's only because Crowley has another heinous assignment for the Ramshackle Duo.

[princessanneftw]

Princess Anne warned feather that obscured Harry at Coronation was ‘decent size’ but was told to wear it anyway

Princess Royal raised concerns about the hat and only changed seats to sit in front of her nephew at last minute for a 'speedy exit'

Hannah Furness for the Daily Telegraph

The Princess Royal had warned Coronation organisers that a feather, which made global headlines on the day after obscuring Prince Harry’s face, was “quite a decent-sized hat” but was told to wear it anyway.

The Princess raised concerns about the large headpiece, she has said, and had only changed seats to one in front of her nephew at the last minute, seeking a “speedy exit”.

The plume of the Blues and Royals caused amusement worldwide for blocking Prince Harry’s view from his third-row seat at his father’s Coronation.

In a new book, Charles III: New King. New Court. The Inside Story, by Robert Hardman, the Princess defends herself against allegations she had done it on purpose.

“At the Coronation itself, Prince Harry was seated in the third row of the royal section, immediately behind Princess Anne, who was wearing a striking red-plumed bicorn hat that remained on her head throughout,” he writes.

“Social media snipers instantly concluded that Harry had been deliberately placed behind his aunt’s tall hat to obscure his view.

“This is nonsense. Not only do the Lord Chamberlain’s Office not think like that, but the Princess Royal had only switched to that seat after her request for a speedy exit.

”‘The hat was an interesting question,’ the Princess recalled later. ‘I said: ‘Are you sure you want me to keep the hat on? Because it’s quite a decent-sized hat.’ And the answer was yes. There you go. Not my choice.’”

Prince Harry had attended the Coronation without his wife and two children, who remained at home in California.

He made only a brief appearance in public, taking the first possible flight after the ceremony to make it home to see Archie Mountbatten-Windsor on his fourth birthday.

The seating plan had relegated him to the third row, where he took a position between Jack Brooksbank, the husband of Princess Eugenie, and the late Queen’s cousin Princess Alexandra.

Social media had been alight with jokes about the red feather, with critics of the Duke of Sussex claiming she had worn it on purpose to cement his estranged status.

The Duke had been seen in pleasant conversation with his aunt beforehand, also talking to Princess Beatrice’s husband, Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi, during the service.

There was no known interaction with his brother and sister-in-law, the Prince and Princess of Wales.

Writing in his own memoir Spare, Prince Harry relayed how it was Princess Anne who was first to greet him at Balmoral after the death of Elizabeth II, when he arrived later than most of his family.

Meeting him with a hug, she took him to the late Queen’s bedroom to pay his respects.

The book, “Charles III: New King. New Court. The Inside Story” by Robert Hardman, is out in hardback on Jan 18, published by Macmillan.

[beggiefiles]

Such romantic words for your beau.

Bore Score; Archie's Joke Book Magazine #190