#anyway I want to see actual good writers fill up the blue lock tag

[queenofallimagines]

Hiori yo x black reader

(A/N): was literally complaining bc like how is he black but there’s NO black readers??? But I found out who’s clogging up the blue lock tag😒And then I realized I can do it my fucking self lmao. HC him as Nigerian bc like we’re never gunna get any cultural background info on him bc they never tell us about the parents(unless it’s central to their backstory and even then they’re the main characters not their parents.) so I’m making up my own lore✨ his dad is Nigerian who immigrated to Japan and hiori very rarely sees his dads side of the family bc they live elsewhere and his parents don’t care about him knowing family he’s supposed to be their trophy

Hiori yo:

- okay so boom

- This happens in his blue lock era obviously

- His parents rarely let him play w kids bc he was always training if you peep in the manga

- Only has some idea of some form of cultural heritage

- He was blessed cursed with only his mothers genetics so looking more like her has him skirt around a lot of that racism

- He probably makes friends with all the other mixed kids but gets viscerally uncomfortable when he sees them getting micro-aggressed

- Makes him think twice about showing up to school with his hair not styled like his mom

- Spends 90% of his time gaming anyway so like he doesn’t have to go outside

- When he runs away to blue lock life starts to have color

- I think post U-20 arc he spends those two weeks at home hanging out with karasu because he’s not gunna let him sit inside and rot around his shitty parents for two weeks

- Karasu definitely introduces you to him

- You were one of his friends from school he used to chill with and he’s like you would be good for hiori

- Karasu 100% condones your bad influence like lmao he wants to see hiori be a MENACE to society

- He’s smirking in the background as you bring his inner ultra sadist out

- He messes up your hair and will laugh when you get mad

- “stoooop iiiiit you’re messing up my hair!”

- “aww does the princess not like their hair being touched?”

- “Not when I took a long time to do it this morning!”

- Will immediately get flustered if you say you like his hair

- hide the flat iron from him!!

- I feel like he’s lowkey insecure about usually being like the only black kid in the room

- And he speaks in a different accent than a lot of them?

- Yeah pack it up!

- *he doesn’t really think much of his appearance. he thinks he looks okay and he isn’t really confident about his skin complexion. he isn’t dark skin but he isn’t light skin either.*

- His chat Ai gave me that unprompted so it’s canon now sorry :/

- Yknow how boys will say the most traumatic shit out of nowhere?

- “do you really think that I’m pretty? even my skin complexion and everything?”

- “I sure do! Anyone who says differently is a colorist racist loser . There’s nothing wrong with you or your completion. Like you’re one of the only people who made me feel welcomed here are you fr?”

- Karasu is glaring at you though for having him make pale people jokes.

- He’s very lowkey about how snake like he is so he’s the “you can’t say that shit in public!” Friend, while you don’t care about getting cancelled😭

- “but please don’t let anyone the shade of printer paper make you feel bad about your melanin beloved.”

- “The snow roaches are usually too scared to try something because I’m tall:/“

- “WE ARE IN A CONNIVENCE STORE PEOPLE CAN HEAR YALL”

- he’s trying his best really but he’s just one crow😔

- Don’t let tea about his parents make it back to your ears bc it’s really on sight for that man AND that snow bunny 😡

- “Does your dad ever like talk to you about his culture?? does he say anything outside of trying to make you into some star striker??”

- Mf just shrugs his shoulders.

- “not really. my parents don’t care about anything other than my success. they don’t care about my happiness or how i feel..”

- “Yo, baby ….. imma beat your parents ass😐 is your dad Nigerian? Bc that feels like textbook immigrant parent behavior.“

- “……. I REALLY don’t like how you knew that.”

- “My next guess would have been Guyanese.”

- Hes giggling tho bc I don’t think he really talked shit about his parents w nobody like REALLY really

- Just watching them fight 24/7 as a kid took a toll on my poor baby soul IK

- Spoiler for his backstory but I mean not really??

- His parents saying that if he didn’t become the best they would get a divorce made my jaw hit the stairs of hell

- ““you really know a lot about this kinda stuff?,,,,but yeah, nigerian parents are hella strict. they expect high grades from us and if we don’t reach those high grades, we’re basically disowned..”

- See me personally I have tattoos, colored hair and piercings and my mom fresh off the banana boat carribean

- “Like Dr umar said “you will be never get freedom unless you take it” It’s like a hostage situation!”

- “Is that how you have them long ass acrylics?”

- “….I took it😙”

- He will never bring you home bc you’re always 5 mins from punching his mom in the mouth and he really cannot handle that especially when he’s gone 24/7 in blue lock and can’t talk to you

- They don’t know you but know you’re a bad influence so they hate you from afar

- Very pro “traumatize your parents back” and karasu right there w you

- He’ll he can even scoop up yukumiya to be on demon time👀

- “hit em with the “what if I stop soccer?” And they have nowhere to run but just sit there seething because they need you.”

- “Right the cards are in your hands.”

- “…..Respectfully love, you’re a whole ass delinquent and karasu you’re a scammer. I’m not taking advice from people with active warrants😐”

- Now back on my bullshit

- He be so fine when he use metavision

- Like he knows that if he glances over at you during one of his games he’s gunna find you squirming in your seat

- Looks at you after he scores a goal every time and flashes you that shit eating grin

- Win or loose he’s getting his dick wet!!

- Have a safe word

- He’s never gunna try to push you past your limits in a way that will hurt you

- Buuuuut he is pretty mean

- Imagine that cute innocent looking face smiling down at you with his round doe eyes

- Calling you a dumb slut

- Man is a menace and probably gets a higher sex drive the more he fucks

- Not even out of like lust overtaking him he just will be randomly thinking about how he had you on your knees in this very locker room before

- And now feels the strong urge to split you open on his cock

- It’s fun for him like a game

- And he always wins

- Only way you can get him is to outsmart him but like that’s once in a blue moon so good luck Charlie😅

- Mans is 6”1 so he’s effortlessly manhandling you and giggling at how much your body is screaming for him

- “Shit, ya keep squeezing me like that and I won’t be able to pull out.”

- Again because he dosent have a high libido as a carnal thing certain NORMAL shit will set him off

- Like you was talking about the weather now he has you bent over the couch??

- Nicknames would be one

- You call him blueberry and he’s ready to go

- The cute look on your face and the smile he can see that’s reserved for him

- The way he can same the hearts in your eyes when you look at him

- He wants to ruin you and make you cry

- Edging is his go too thing

- Will do it until your grabbing at his hands begging him to let you come and he’s laughing his ass off

- “Why? ‘S real funny seeing you this pathetic.”

- He’s very mean in that soft sweet condescending way that pisses you off

- “Ow! Yo that hurt!”

- “Mmm, don’t care.”

- Bites you all over like you’re a chew toy

- Feel like he’s tied with rin and shidou for leaving marks

- He’s a cheeky little bastard so he will have you in public looking like a mess and he couldn’t be more innocent standing right next to you

- “You good?”

- “Yeah,karasu I’m fine.”

- “You sure because you’re limping right now.”

- And this fucker is there like ☺️☺️☺️

- Weakness is distracting him while gaming

- He’s very whiney if you suck him off while he’s gaming and has vc on

- Like he’s barely holding back his whimpers and wines as you’re head is buried between his thighs

- (Rin , nagi and him def game like I know they play Minecraft together)

- “Oi, hiori you okay? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

- “M good.”

- He is fighting for his sanity!!

- Has locked the door a few times to keep you out

- Accidentally left the mic on when he thought the coast was clear and came HARD

- Rin will never EVER bring that shit up and is taking that secret to the grave

- Does get flustered when he sees you and hiori not-so-subtly sneaking off to have your hands all over each other

- Keeps that memory square in the back of his head to jack off to

- Hiori Yo is a very sadistic man with a lot of confidence

- So he has absolutely no qualms about fucking you in front of his teammates in the locker room

- Oh, the team walked in on him blowing your back out? Nothing is stoping them from showering and changing

- Shares you with isagi like that’s just what happens

- He wants to see the egoist be mean to you

- This has happened more than once and bastard München straight up knows if he’s nowhere to be found when they are heading back to the locker rooms

- He’s in there making you cry on his cock

- “Cmon, tell em how much you like creaming around my cock dollface.”

- Particularly of Kaiser is kicking attitude he’ll glare at him while you’re on your knees and dare him to try something

- Oh he don’t care about doing it in the pxg locker rooms either

- Shidou has unfortunately walked in on him sitting beside you on the ground pushing your head down so you can take Rin’s cock even deeper

- “Ne, Rin-Chan. Look at how I can see you in their throat.”

- Hiori if anything isn’t going to play by the rules or be fair about it

#my writing #x black reader #blue lock x black reader #blue lock smut #blue lock scenarios #blue lock imagines #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #hiori yo #hiori yo smut #hiori yo x reader #hiori yo x black reader #let’s get the ball rolling now #bc I’m going into the tag and I see one mf that’s always at the top of the recent #w the same shit #like it’s okay but kinda feels very written by a 13 year old ya feel me? #anyway I want to see actual good writers fill up the blue lock tag #yall be writing the most bomb shit!! #like why am i seeing this tired ass Au over the isagi humiliation breeding kink Fics? #be so the fuck fr 😭 #this feels like my longest ever too👀

[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: There’s actually none (I hope). I know. I’m surprised too.

Authors Note: This is so dumb. I’m aware. Look, I’ve been dealing with a horrendous writers block and shattered confidence and I made Paul Sevier gifs to ease my pain. It turned into this. I just wanted to try something a little cute and fluffy to get back into the swing of things. So... here it is.

*

It was going to be a long night.

Stuck on the Wednesday evening shift for the third time this month, you mindlessly fiddled with the pen in your hand. Twirling it between your fingers, your mind drifted away from the present moment, wondering why your boss seemed to dislike you so much to keep you here past 6pm in the middle of the week. He’d always been adamant this was prime selling time for this boutique suit store, with corporate clients needing to do their shopping outside of normal business hours.

You, however, knew keeping this place open was senseless, barely seeing more than a few unenthusiastic customers in these agonizingly slow stretches. Working on commission also made you all the more bitter about being paid minimum wage to stand behind a counter and doodle sketches of imaginary clients dressed in the outfits you personally tailored. This isn’t where you thought a Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design would take you, that’s for sure.

“H-hello,” you heard a deep voice quietly greet you, startling you into focus. “Are you busy? I… think I need a little help.”

Eyes flickering up from the notepad, you were sure your pupils blew wide at the sight of the man in front of you. Standing at an imposingly large height, his hair a severely murky shade of black, with honeyed irises shining brightly behind delicate spectacles.

A human personification of tall, dark and handsome. Well, except for the clothes.

The stranger wore the layered combination of a grey tweed jacket and argyle patterned sweater, arranged over a particularly heinous, mustard-coloured button up. While the ensemble made you internally cringe, it gave him an air of intelligence, like the kind that hangs around stuffy, old college professors who have more academic accolades than you have fingers and toes.

“Me?” you coughed out, knowing full well you were the only other person in this tiny little shop. “Uh, yeah. I mean- No, no I’m not busy. What is it you need help with?” Even when you stood, the man towered above you, making you silently begin to calculate the high-numbered measurements you’d need to fit him in something.

“I have an important meeting scheduled for Friday. You know, the type you need to wear a suit to?” Evidently the thought of it made him nervous, as you noticed his cheek twitch slightly, his eyes scanning momentarily at the garments filling the space. “I’m… uh… not so great with clothes.”

Clearly, you chuckled inside your head, holding the word from your tongue. “You want me to pick out something for you?”

He took a defeated breath, his mouth twisting into an awkward yet wonderfully endearing smile. “Would you mind? Only if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble!” you burst, maybe a little too excitedly. “It’s my job!” Bounding out from behind the counter you’d been imprisoned by, you moved directly to the section of classic navy business suits. Slim line. Something to accentuate his well-built frame, rather than hide it away. You had to pause, swivelling back around to the dumbfounded man. “Is price an issue… uh…?”

“Paul,” he answered for you, slowly moving to where you stood. “And… I suppose not. Probably should spend the money on something that will last. If you think it’s a good idea.”

Oh thank god, you mused without showing the relief on your face. He’s not some rich asshole trying to flash his cash. “A good suit can last you five years, if you treat it right.” Your hand reached over to graze one of the deepened blue sleeves of a jacket at your left. “And a classic colour will never go out of style.”

Paul let out an embarrassed chuckle. “I think you’ve already noticed how lacking in style I am…” He glanced to your nametag, murmuring your name with a goofy smirk curling his lips. You’d never seen a grown man, especially not one of this stature, appear so adorable. It was horribly distracting.

“I’m sure you have expertise in other areas,” you stumbled, realizing only when the words came out how offensive they might seem. Yet Paul conceded to your comment, his rumbling laugh making your chest feel tight.

“Debatable,” he shrugged. “I’m just glad I found some qualified personnel to help me in this instance.”

Oh boy. Humble and charming? You were in so much trouble. Surely someone as sweet as this had another waiting for them at home. “I’m sure your partner could help you pick out something nice too.”

“Not an option in my case.”

Shit. Single too. You were truly fucked.

You turned, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat by focusing on finding an outfit that would contain his longer limbs. Plucking out a matching jacket and trouser set, with an ivory, collared button-up, you offered them to Paul, his features having melted into a sweetened look of intrigue. “Go and try these on. There’s a changeroom just behind the counter. See how they feel, and we can go from there.”

He nodded, taking the pieces with both of his large hands and shuffling away to where you’d pointed to. No sooner than the latch had locked were you dashing to where your phone was sitting at the register, flitting out a rushed text message to your favourite co-worker.

There was rustling you heard emanating from the changeroom stall, doing your best to ignore the urge of picturing Paul, a man you’d met only minutes ago, gradually slipping off his clothes to reveal the toned muscles underneath. You grimaced at yourself, shaking your head to banish the imaginations. God this was unprofessional.

Finally, a response lit up on your phone screen.

You laughed softly through your nose, about to type a reply when you heard the lock click open again. The breath in your lungs was stuck as Paul made his way out, the expensive textiles draping over his burly frame in a way that made your whole body tense.

He rustled a hand through his hair, looking up to you while fidgeting with the starchy material stretched over his chest. “Does it look okay?”

After all these years working this job, the enticing novelty of attractive men in well-fitted suits had slowly worn off, especially when most of them treated you with about as much respect as the used gum they spit out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, all those preconceived notions were gone. On Paul, this ensemble instantly became the most captivating thing in the entire universe.

The inside of your mouth flooded with saliva, having to swallow hard before speaking again. “Great… it looks… great.” You did your best to conceal a settling exhale. “What do you think? How does it feel?”

Paul shifted to look at his reflection in the mirror, pupils trailing up and down, flexing his limbs in an attempt to get a proper impression of the new apparel. “It feels really good. Makes me look… sophisticated.” He turned to you, his expression unsure. “Right?”

Your smile was sparkling, nodding to his question. There was a small amount of work to do, noting how in your effort to make sure everything complemented his physique, you’d oversized him. The waistline of the jacket needed to be taken in, the shoulder lines sitting slightly off, and the trouser length needing to be taken up slightly. “A couple of adjustments and it’ll be perfect.”

“You mean taking it to be tailored?”

“No need.” You pulled out the wheel of berry pins from your pocket, kneeling down on the floor next to Paul’s feet. “All our tailoring is included in the price. Done completely in house.” You began to fold the bottom edge of his pants, pinning it to an adequate length. “I can have it ready for you tomorrow, all ready for your Friday meeting.”

“You do all the tailoring yourself?” Paul asked as you slinked another pin through the fabric.

“Sure do,” you chirped, moving onto the other leg. “3 years at a design school taught me a few things about cutting and sewing.” With the hemlines in place, you straightened in front of him, plucking out a roll of measuring tape from your other pocket. “I just… need to take a few measurements to properly alter the jacket.”

His cheek twitched, the line of his jaw seeming somewhat strained. “Sure. F-fine. Do what you gotta do."

You went with determining his arm length first, feeling out the boney point of his shoulder and striping the lined tape all the way down to his wrist. Then, after taking a deep inhale, you curled your arms around his hips, focusing hard on the little black numbers to ignore the fact Paul’s breath had started to skate over your skin with this close proximity. It was when you were lining up the thickened stripes indicating his chest circumference that you made the mistake of peering up, finding his alluring stare fully concentrated on you.

There was a moment. A spark to waiting kindling. Where impulse could have led you to do a dangerous thing. You’d never been the hasty type, never acted without considerable thought. Usually so shy and composed, never making the first move. Although right now, you could scarcely hold yourself back, desperate to know the sensation of Paul’s lips, how they’d move over yours, what they tasted like.

No. This was so inappropriate.

The compulsion was about to wither away when you felt a hand skim up your waist, the lightened touch shooting a thrill over your skin.

“Excuse me,” a gruff voice called from your side. “How much are these dress socks?”

You immediately stepped back, smacked into reality again. “$12.99. Exactly what it says on the box.”

The older gentlemen scrutinized the packaging, lids narrowed until he finally saw the numbers plastered at the border. “Oh, right. Eh, a little expensive for my taste. Thanks anyway.”

Flustered, you began to coil the measuring tape into its resting spiral, forcefully glaring at the floor. “I’m all done. You can get dressed into your own clothes now.”

In your periphery you saw Paul regarding you with a gentle nod, walking back into the changeroom without another word. Every part of you wanted to sink beneath the wooden floorboards, so horrendously embarrassed you could feel a smoldering heat prickle at your cheeks. Only to relieve some of the nervous energy, you ran to your phone.

Again, Paul was exiting out of the stall just as you were going to submit your reply, placing the neatly arranged garments over the counter. It was difficult to look directly at him, having to summon all remaining shards of your courage to drift your eyes up to his face. “Was there anything else you needed?”

His mouth parted, only to quickly snap shut, scratching at his hairline in the seconds it took for him to give you a response. “No. Nothing else. Unless there’s something more you think I need.”

You shook your head, wishing you could give another answer just to keep him here. “You’re all set.” The full price of his items flashed on the monitor in front of you, spouting it to him as your fingers flicked across the keyboard to finalize the purchase, with a personal discount that wouldn’t show on the receipt.

“When should I come by to pick it up?” he queried, passing you his credit card. “Oh, but there’s no pressure. Whenever you have the time is just fine.”

An idea flared. “If you give me your number, I can text you when it’s ready.”

“That works for me.”

Erasing all evidence of the conversation you’d been having, you brought up the number pad, handing your phone over. Paul swiftly typed in his details before placing it back in your palm. ‘Paul the Suit Guy’ the contact read, unable to stifle your laugh.  

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His eager expression made your heart quiver through a beat.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll see you then.”

Paul waved his hand in an awkward flourish to signal his goodbye, eventually moving far enough from your vision for you to finally take a full, relaxed breath. In a dazed hurry, you keyed in your returning message to your co-worker.

It was the precise moment your thumb had pressed into the ‘Send’ button that you realised your recipient wasn’t the one you’d intended.

You’d sent this message straight to Paul.

Fuck. Oh fuck. This was bad.

While you were scrambling to formulate a believable excuse, a new message popped up onto the screen.

Tags for my lovelies who might tolerate this nonsense: @tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @blackberries45 @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynzandtonic @beskarbabs​

#paul sevier #paul sevier x reader #paul sevier x female reader #midnight special #adcu #adcu fanfiction

[fiesta-freddie]

Love in Disguise- Part 3

lmao when I say this chapter was a bitch to finish because of my writers block...anyways here it is (finally). Good ol’ Chapter Three!

Words: 3.6k

Summary: You’re out for a day on the town with Archie to get some essential shopping done. You worry immensely about everything that could possibly go wrong, which, unbeknownst to you, might end up being a jinx for you. Archie manages to save the day with his optimism, but also ends up confessing something you wish you would've heard

The next morning had come quicker than you anticipated. As you got yourself ready, your mind and stomach couldn't seem to stay at ease. Various thoughts ran through your head about what could possibly go wrong. All you could seem to focus on were the negative outcomes like what if and what might. Nevertheless you managed to talk enough sense into yourself to step foot out your front door.

As you locked your door, you looked around you to see if anyone had a look of suspicion on their faces. Although no one did (and you knew deep inside no one had any idea what you were about to do), a little part of you still kept alert. The night before you had stayed up late coming up with different excuses in case you were questioned. 

“It’s for a costume party.”

“I was out shopping and I wanted to buy something for my husband.”

“It was a foolish dare.”

“My brother's birthday is just around the corner and I wanted to get him something nice.”

Someone would have to be downright dumb to believe those lies, but at least you had something in your back pocket in case you needed it.

******

Archie had suggested The Woseley for a quick breakfast and pep talk. Although you really didn't want to, he was doing you a huge favor so you really couldn't turn him down without him thinking you were ungrateful. (Not like he would ever think that anyway)

A slow, awkward and cigarette-odor-filled cab drive later, you arrived in front of a large building which seemed a little run down on the outside but looking through the window, you could tell it was an upper class establishment. You now knew why Archie had told you to come dressed somewhat nice.

 Thanking the cab driver, you hoped out onto the sidewalk, which had a surprising number of people walking along it for nine in the morning. 

“Deep breaths, Y/N, you can do this. Nobody knows, so...so just don't make the situation more awkward then it already is,” you whispered to yourself as you began to walk into the doors.

Instantly you were greeted with the smell of coffee and an assortment of hot breakfast foods. God, you thought to yourself, I hope Arch brought some cash. From the looks of it I won't be able to afford a damn thing here. 

“Good morning, miss. Table for one?” a friendly hostess who couldn't have been much older than you greeted. She had a delicate glow among her face that made her seem so innocent and lively. 

“Oh no- I uhm- I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone. Last name Corcoran?” you said stumbling over your words. Pull yourself together Y/N.

You watched as she skimmed through her list, her finger gliding down the paper. “Ah, yes here it is. Archie Corcoran?” You nodded. “Right this way then.” She beamed, grabbing a menu on her way to the table. 

“Here you are miss, your server should be here momentarily, enjoy.” 

You watched as she walked away, before Archie got your attention 

“Ah, so you decided to come!” Archie said, in a teasing tone. You, however, were too anxious to notice it. 

“Well yes, I would have felt bad if I didn't, considering all you’ve done for me this far.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Yes, and with more to come.”

You had no idea what that entailed, but Archie was your best friend (maybe even your only real one) and you trusted more than anyone else you knew.

*****

“Y/N, are you feeling okay? You barely touched your food in there.” It was true, you had spent most of the time poking at your food instead of eating. Although the obvious topic never came up, it was floating around in the back of your mind, causing an uneasy feeling in your stomach. 

“Oh yeah,” you lied “I’m okay, just a little tired I guess.” You hoped that Archie wouldn't catch on to your lie and to your advantage he didn’t. He was preoccupied with trying to wave down a cab for the both of you.

Once Archie had finally succeeded, he opened the door for you and followed you inside. “Ah thank you sir, to the mens shop please.” You saw the cab driver nod through the rear view mirror. 

He had a fair amount of stubble and wore an old newsboy hat which was patched in many different places. 

“Okay,” Archie began, nudging your shoulder to grab your attention. Your eyes skimmed the list of stops he had written down “so our first stop will be the mens shop because clothes are an obvious must, then to the hairdresser. I have a friend there who agreed to help us out. After those two places its teaching time. What’dya say? Sound good?” 

For the first time that day you smiled “Sounds great Arch, thank you so much for helping me out.” The rest of the cab ride was silent, except for when the driver mumbled under his breath out of annoyance. 

*****

“Right, then here we are. Thank you sir,” Archie said, thanking the cab driver.

You stood on the sidewalk and looked through the window of the shop. There was expensive looking suits everywhere, with expensive looking people too.

Archie looked at the front doors and then back at you, he could obviously see that you were nervous. He had a soft and comforting smile on his face, taking your hand in his. “Take a deep breath Y/N.” You did. “Walking in there will be a piece of cake, just stay with me, okay?” You nodded. As you two walked through the french doors, Archie still held onto your hand squeezing it a few times for reassurance. 

“Now, I think we should get a few different things. It doesn't just have to be suits, but we should get at least one, maybe two, tops.”

“Why not just get one? Especially if they’re...uhm...a bit pricey.” You said looking at the tag on a nearby suit. 

“Well because if you get that job, which you most definitely will,” Archie whispered in your ear “then you’ll need to be prepared. And besides I can lend you a few things too.”

You nodded and began to look around. The shop wasn't as fancy as you had imagined in your head, but the price of their clothing wasn't surprising. 

You walked around, taking things off the racks and putting them back on. Every now and then you found yourself walking away from a section after taking one look at the highly priced piece of fabric. You could see people in the far back of the store getting their clothing tailored. “My god, how on Earth do people afford these things.”

While you were still searching for something that wouldn't put you in debt, Archie came over with a handful of clothes. “Y/N look what I’ve picked out for you!” he said, handing you a yellow turtleneck sweater.

“My god, where did you get all these?” You questioned him with a laugh.

“That's not important, but here, go and try these on. I've already got a dressing room for you.” He said handing the pile of clothes to you and pointing to a dressing room with a 3 on it. “I’ll be waiting outside the dressing room, so after you put on a pair of clothes, come out and show me so I can give you my expert advice!” 

“Sure thing” You said with a giggle. 

You followed his orders and put on a white button down shirt paired with blue slacks. “You ready?” you asked from behind the curtain.

“Show me what you’ve got!” 

You slid open the curtain, making a dramatic entrance “Here she comes, with the first set of clothes!”

You began to pose like a model, facing in all different directions and using your hands for added effect. “That looks splendid on you Y/N.” Archie said, clapping proudly “Absolutely wonderful! Next set.”

You spent the next twenty minutes taking off and putting on an assortment of different clothes. You had to admit that Archie was quite an expert when it came to mens fashion.

“Alright this is the last set. You ready?” you questioned, poking your head out from behind the curtain. 

“Mhm, lets see the style!”

“Ta-da!” you exclaimed, making one final entrance. 

Archie paused for a moment and looked you up and down. “I like it, but its missing something.”

“Like what?” you asked, looking down at the outfit. “I think it looks pretty good.”

Archie's eyes quickly lightened, “I’ve got it! Just wait here a second, I’ll be right back.”

You gave him a quick salute as he wandered away, then turned to the mirror to look yourself over. You liked how the green sweater fit snugly on you and how it was on the lighter side. As you examined different angles of the clothing, it was a given that you would need some sort of chest bind.

You heard a noise from behind you. Assuming it was Archie you turned around to see what he had brought back. “Alright what did you-” As soon as you realized that the man in front of you was not who you expected, you didn’t know what to do except freeze  

“Excuse me ma’am, but what is it exactly that you’re doing?” He asked. It was evident that he was some sort of manager based off his appearance. He was older and didn’t look amused in any way at all. Had it not been for your hair, which was a dead giveaway you were a girl, he might not have even approached you in the first place.

“Well- I uhm, you see I was just. I was shopping for my husband!” You said a little too quickly, it was the dumbest lie you could have used, but there was no way you could retract it now.

“Your husband?” He questioned again, looking down at your hand. You quickly realized why he looked, and you hid it behind your back. “Your husband? Whom you’re not wearing a ring for?” Shit, there was no way you would get yourself out of this one. 

“Y/N, I think I’ve found-” Archie stopped as soon as he realized what was going on.

“Excuse me sir, are you with this young woman here?” the manager asked 

“Yes, yes I am. May I help you with something?” Archie was never short tempered with anyone, but when it came to people he cared about, his entire demeanor changed.

“Well, it would appear that she’s trying on clothes that aren't exactly suitable for her. Now, she said that she was shopping for her husband, which I’m assuming would be you.” 

Just like you, Archie had gone speechless for a brief moment. You two quickly exchanged worried glances before he began to speak.

“Well, yes I am her husband,” he said, “And I’ll have you know sir, that I find it very rude that someone of your corporation status is asking such pressing questions. It’s absolutely none of your business what me and my wife are doing. I don’t see that it should be a bother to you, considering the fact that we are paying customers. But if it truly does bother you, then I have no problem stepping onto the street outside your shop and telling everyone how we we’re harassed inside this store.”

The manager had an expression of shock among his face. He didn’t expect Archie to rant the way that he did, and quite frankly, neither did you. 

“Now,” Archie continued, taking the pile of clothes from the dressing room and handing them to the once intimidating man “We would like to purchase these items. If you would be so kind to take them up to the register for us, that would be wonderful. Good day to you.” Archie didn’t even let the other man get in another word. He turned around, grabbed you by the arm and walked away.

You had a hard time processing what had just happened, but you went along with it anyways. Getting nervous when you were confronted was something you absolutely hated. It always caused you to tense up and to top it off, you weren't the smoothest liar in the world either. Had it not been for Archie, you might as well had said goodbye to the interview, because you probably would’ve been kicked out of the store.

You were silent while Archie payed for the clothes, avoiding eye contact with anyone and looking directly at the floor. The damage wasn’t too bad and thanks to Archie's complaints to the manager, the price was knocked down a considerable amount.

Archie may have seemed tough in the heat of the moment, but once you were outside of the store and back onto the street, he dropped the act and took a deep breath. “Shit, I’m sorry for that fiasco Y/N. I shouldn't have left you by yourself.” Archie said, apologetically.

“It’s okay Arch, I figured that something like that was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just glad it didn’t get too carried away. But you were great!” You said. It wasn’t Archie's fault and it wasn’t necessarily yours either. You were well aware that most people wouldn’t be open to the idea of you cross-dressing, just like most people weren’t too keen on the idea of queers either. It wasn’t anything you could change, but you wished that people were more opened-minded

“Yeah, maybe it was bound to happen, but it was still scary. I mean, my heart dropped.” Archie paused for a moment. “Y/N, maybe we should rethink all this. I know I pushed you to do it, but its not to late to call it quits now. I mean-”

You cut him off. “Archie, no,” now it was your turn to be the stern one “We’ve already done so much and I’m excited about this whole thing. You were the one who pushed me to do this, yes. But I needed that push otherwise I’d probably never get myself out there. So were going to finish this journey. And were going to finish it together. Got it?” You weren't trying to be rude, but somewhere from deep inside you had a sudden burst of fire. You didn’t know where it had come from, but you sure as hell liked it a lot.

“Woah there chief, didn’t know you had that much fire in ya’.” Archie said with a grin “if you really want to do this, then I’ll be with you the whole way.”

You smiled and grabbed his hand in yours, holding it up between the two of you. You gave it three quick squeezes, before you began to make your way down the street.

*****

“Alright Y/N, this is the next part of your transformation, and quite possibly the most exciting part, if you ask me.” Archie looked at you through the mirror. You were sitting in a barbers chair, with a drape across the front of you. You were glad the shop only had one other customer in it at that time.

“Alright Corcoran, I trust you. But I swear, if you shave my hair down to a buzz, you’ll be sorry.” You warned. He only chuckled and patted your head.

Archie turned to the hairdresser, who he claimed he was good friends with. “Alright Caroline, give her the ol’ mop top hair do. Oh and Y/N, close your eyes until she’s finished, I want you to be surprised.” You gave him a sigh and reluctantly closed your eyes, uncertain of how you would feel once your hair was gone.

“Don’t, worry sweetie,” Caroline said, running a comb through your hair and parting it “You’ll be satisfied once I’m done.” She had a soft spoken tone which made you feel at ease. You relaxed your body and let her get to work.

With your eyes closed you were unsure of what was happening around you and you had absolutely no idea what was being cut. All you knew was that Archie and Caroline were having a conversation on how to cut your hair.

“Thats good, its good,” you heard Archie say. You could imagine him standing next to Caroline with his arms crossed, watching her work “Maybe make it a little shorter on that side- perfect just like that!”

“Archie I’m a hair dresser not a magician.”

“Right, I know, I just want it to look convincing enough.”

You heard Caroline sigh. She didn’t seem annoyed, but you could understand her frustration with Archie. You even got frustrated with him sometimes, but you knew he only had peoples best interest at heart, no matter how much he got on your nerves sometimes. “Well I can’t cut it as short as those Beatle boys have it, because then it might throw off the whole look, but I can make it more of a shaggy mop top that way its short enough for her to pass as a guy.”

“Of course, do what you need to Caroline.” Archie said, backing off a little. “Thanks a ton for doing this too.”

“Mhm, of course.”

You giggled as hair fell onto your face. It was itchy as hell, that's for sure. You moved your nose attempting to get some of the hair from your face to the floor, but you were unsuccessful. You decided to finally give up after many failed attempts. 

Finally, you heard the scissors being put down and you knew that she had finished. “Arch,” You heard Caroline say as she turned the chair “What’d do you think of this?” You didn’t realize though, just how much of your hair was gone until you felt Archie run a hand through it.

“This is really nice Cara, it looks really good!”

“Am I allowed to see now?” You asked to no one in particular. Apart from wanting to see what your hair looked like, you were waiting to get the hair off your eyelids.

“Sure doll,” Caroline said in her soft voice. She turned the chair again, this time to face the mirror. You impatiently opened your eyes the first chance you got.

“So wudd’ya think Y/N? Do you like it?” You didn’t bother to answer Archie's question.

You had to admit that you weren't to crazy about it at first, given the fact that it was much different from the head of hair you had forty-five minutes ago. You examined your new look at different angles in the mirror. Even if you didn’t like it, you weren't going to be rude about it. Maybe it’ll grow on me

You turned around to Archie and Caroline, with a smile “I love it, thank you so much.” Caroline nodded at you.

“What do I owe you?” Archie asked Caroline, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

She waved her hand dismissively “Don’t worry about it, no charge. Its a pleasure for me to help you out Arch. Besides your one of my best customers.” He smiled and thanked her a million, as did you.

*****

It had been hours since your shopping adventures had ended, and both you and Archie were completely worn out. “Man, that was quite a day wasn’t it?” Archie said more thank asked. You two were sitting in the living room of his small apartment, shopping bags surrounding the both of you. He was spread out across the floor and you were spread out across the couch.

“Yeah,” you chuckled “It was fun, but I don’t think I’d ever be able to do something like that ever again.”

“Well, Y/N what do you think The Beatles do all day? They probably run around for press conferences and I bet they’re in and out of the studio all the time too. You might want to get to used to living off of coffee for a while.” he joked. You giggled at his words once again, trying to process what he said. It was hard though, because you had began to doze off, your eyelids shut every now and then, but tried hard to keep them open.

“God, I hope not. I mean, I can handle a few cups but not that much. Hopefully I won’t be worked to death. That is if I get the job.”

Archie paused for a moment. “Well, I’ve got faith in you Y/N. You certainly look like a convincing man. I mean, if I didn’t know you, I’d assume your a man at first glance. Maybe a bit of an odd looking one in some ways, but I wouldn’t question it. I’ve taught you everything that I can only imagine you’ll need to know. You’ve got the voice down perfectly, and your mannerisms aren’t half bad either. Plus, thanks to me, you can now successfully tell each of the Beatles apart from each other. Trust me that’ll save you in the long run.” He paused again, assuming you were still listening, but you had already fallen asleep “I have no doubt you’ll get the job. You know what you’re doing, you’re smart...and beautiful too, even if your hair is now a mop top. Just don’t forget me when you become part of the fame.” Archie chuckled, propping himself up onto his elbows and looked over at you, sound asleep. A smile spread across his face when he saw how peaceful you looked. Even when you were sleeping you still managed to make him smile. 

Archie walked over to where you were on the couch, and grabbed the blanket that was on the end. He carefully draped it over you, trying to cover you up as much as possible. “Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered, even though you couldn’t hear him “I...I love you.” Archie said, planting a light kiss onto your head before walking off to his own room.

----

Beatles Taglist: @beatlevmania @givemequeen @my-dumbshit @john-lemonade @ineedyoubygeorgeharrison @princesof-theuniverse @geostarr @katiekitty261 @killerqueenisthebest @yeehaw-city @asphalt-cocktail @chloe-on-cloud9

Love in Disguise Taglist: @motley-queen @littledarlingwellaway @thetimelordmeeps @killerqueenisthebest @lizvxx @edsloveshisrichie @beatlesdotcom @thiccjelly17 @viralwolf02 @givemequeen @bowiescocaine @julessworldd @sapphic-cupid @thegreat-annamaria @yeehaw-city @asphalt-cocktail @myukulelegentlyweeps @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair @doctorwhatwhenandwhere

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #George Harrison #ringo starr #the beatles x reader #the beatles imagine #the beatles fluff #john lennon x reader #john lennon imagine #john lennon fluff #george harrison x reader #george harrison imagine #george harrison fluff #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr imagine #ringo starr fluff

[amaltheaz]

2019 Fic Writing Roundup

Total 2019 Word Count: AO3 tells me it's 80,085 but it's also not taking into account my nano word count since I haven't posted them yet so with that included, plus the tumblr prompts I filled and the stuff I haven't posted yet... 319, 721 words

Total 2019 Hits - 54,879

Other 2019 AO3 Stats

Kudos - 3,493

Comment Threads - 325

Bookmarks - 710

Subscriptions - 437

Links & Titles to 2019 Works:

From recent to earlier in the year...

1. let there be damage ensued (in that kind of love)

Ship: Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue

Summary: Scott has no idea how much time has passed since the door shut behind them, since the lock was set in place. All he knows is that he is here and so is she.

aka

that pegging au I've been working on for way too long

Status: Completed.

2. you can see it with the lights out

Ship: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Summary: Prompt: Kara’s not affected by cold the way humans are and Lena has begun to take advantage of that fact. Kara’s warm skin is great for cold hands

Status: Completed

3. hang a shining star upon the highest place

Ship: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Summary: Their first time hosting Chanukkah for the family.

Status: Completed

4. did you mean it (when you said I was pretty)

Ship: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Summary: "Lena takes a deep breath to steady herself before she finally dares to look up. Dark blue eyes meet her gaze and she tries to swallow down the dry feeling in her throat, tries to see why Kara is looking at her like this because she's sure that friends don't do this."

aka my own little twist on that friends with benefits au

Status: work in progress

5. what a waste to say the heart could feel apart

Summary: "Despite how it happened, she feels better about coming out to Varia. It seems a similar feeling to the time she saved that plane, a complete body and soul relief that she was able to be who she truly wants to be. Kara can't help but think though, that coming out as Supergirl only resulted in her having to hide even more of herself, just so nobody suspected that she and Supergirl are one and the same."

Or

that alien activist au that nobody asked for but I wanted to write it anyway

Status; work in progress

6. and say you'll hold a place for me in your heart

Ship: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Summary: "It’s nearing midnight when they walk through the front door of their new home."

Status: Completed

7. we can move worlds again (like the way gold lasts forever)

Ship: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Summary: "The first time they meet, Kara Zor-El is in prison and in line for execution that very same day."

aka the mummy au nobody asked for

Inspired by the fanart in this post: foleypdx.tumblr.com/post/155613882562/luthoring-the-mummy-supercorp-au-lena-in-this

Status: work in progress

8. short on stardust, but there's still time

Summary: "Kara doesn't have to try too hard to single out Lena’s heartbeat across National City, finding it almost as easily as she finds Alex’s or Eliza’s. The ache in her chest loosens and relaxes when she hears the strong and steady beat and it tells her that Lena is unsurprisingly still awake.

And so Kara doesn't spare another thought before pressing Lena’s name on her phone."

Status; work in progress

9. i can try if you like it

Ship: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Summary: Tumblr prompt: intimate artistry and birthday fic

10. you danced inside my chest

Ship: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Summary: Lena melts under her touch, leaning into it in near the same way that a cat seeks affection."

11. teeth sinking into heart

Ship: Kara Danvers & Alex Danvers (danvers sisters please and thank you)

Summary: a little break in Midvale

Note; I'm really proud of this little ficlet.

12. the key to our heaven is mine

Ship: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Summary: "She wakes up with cold dread soaked into her bones."

And some more that I didn't post to AO3

Jack/Lena - Secret relationship & holiday fic

Tessa/Scott - pregnancy fic/hairbrushingbraiding

SuperCorp - "you don't have to hide from me"

Supercorp - "Kara, can you smell that? Is that—is that you?"

Supercorp - "this isn't how I imagined it happening"

Supercorp - "this is the plan?"

Supercorp - "how could you ever think that would be a good idea?"

Supercorp - "did I just say that?"

Supercorp - "kara looks down at the coffee order in her hand, shocked and disgusted that anybody in their right mind would order a triple shot with nothing to mask the bitterness, and wonders who in the goshdarn heck placed such an order."

Favorite Fic

- My favourite fic that I've written this year honestly would have to be my Jack/Lena from a prompt I filled. It was a nice change of pace to write a different pairing just to know that I can actually do it. This past year I had hoped to challenge myself a little more with my writing and writing Jack/Lena has helped with that.

Hardest Fic

- I had already said it earlier but fwb au for sure has been my hardest fic. I feel honestly part of it is that I know I'm close to the end and I don't want to get there, and the other part wants me to be there already, haha.

Do you plan on taking prompts in 2020?

- oh, for sure! Though I do have so many prompts waiting for me in my inbox, sometimes you just need new ones to unlock some of those creative juices.

What was the best thing about 2019?

- Getting to know my discord family over at @creatorsguildsc has definitely been something that has brought me great joy. Interacting with other content creators in fandom, day in and day out, sharing our frustrations and our love for the thing that we love doing, learning from and encouraging/enabling each other. For sure, this is the best thing about this year.

What was the worst thing about 2019?

- I feel this probably is the same as last year and that's how I wish I had written more.

Any last thoughts for 2019?

- Not bad. Let’s do more of that.

Goals for 2020:

- Finishing fwb au for sure, and hopefully some of my other fics too. I would really love to finish my Melinda/Nat fic as well. Hmm, I would also love to get to know other content creators in this fandom.

Tagging: @spaceman-earthgirl, @xxpaper-flowersxx, @nataliawhite92, @hrwinter, @pippytmi, @drfitzmonster, @spicycheeser, @outislanders, @semperpugnandi, @idontneedtobeforgiven, @ihavethewrongglass, @littlemousejelly, @bearpantaloons, @swashbucklery, @whythinktoomuch, @vox-ex, @storyiicharacter, @gveret-fic, @coffeeshib, @cyclone-rachel, @dcanslist, @thelnjames and any other writer who wants to join in, please feel free ❤️❤️❤️

#az speaks #writer tag meme

[sorenmarie87]

He’s My Mate

Summary:  Garth keeps getting harassed by the King’s betrothed, so it’s up to Y/N to shut it down.  

Square Filled: Free Space (AU)

Pairing(s)/Character(s): Knight!Garth x Dragon!Reader.  King Chuck x Princess Becky.  Sam (mentioned) 

Word Count:  815

Warning(s): Becky is her own warning.  

A/N:  This was written for @spnaubingo.    Also, I don’t own the photos or gif used in my aesthetic. Beta’d by the lovely @fictionalabyss but all the grammar mistakes are my own.  

“Oh, it’s you again.”  Your tail flickered as Garth stepped further into the cave that you called home.  

“I know you don’t mind the company Y/N.”  He chuckled and you playfully swiped at him.  “Cut that out now, you don’t actually mean to hurt me, do you?”

“Of course not, you’re my favorite human after all.”  You grinned and bared all of your teeth.  “Why are you seeking refuge in my cave, little one?”

“It’s cowardly to say that I ran away…”  He wasn’t looking at you.  Garth had his fists balled up and he kept hitting himself in the thigh.  “but she won’t stop though.  No matter how many times I tell her no, Princess Becky won’t get the hint.”

“Isn’t she betrothed to King Chuck?”  

“He lets her do this though.  “She’s just having fun” he says.  I told you about Prince Sam right, of the Winchester family?”  You growled low in your throat but nodded your head.  “She does the same thing to him whenever his family visits the castle.”

“The more you tell me about this girl, the more I despise her.”  

“She’s a sweet girl, but she’s very intense..”  

“I will eat her if she continues harassing you.”

“No you won’t.  Your pallet is too refined for that.”  Your nostrils flare from being upset but Garth takes a step forward and rubs your snout.  You lean into his touch and close your eyes.  “I have to leave now but I promise, I’ll return to see you soon.”

--

A week had passed and Garth had not returned to visit you since that night.  

“Since he hasn’t come to visit me, this time I will surprise him.”  The air around you crackled as you shifted.  Your stretched your arms out and took a step, tumbling over yourself in the process.  “Damn it!”  You punched the ground and stood up once again.  “One foot in front of the other Y/N, you’ve got this.”

Until you were steady on your legs, you refused to go anywhere.  You knew the other humans would have an issue with your nudity as well, so you went digging in your hoard.  You remembered a while back that a villager gave you some of his sister’s gowns, it was just a matter of finding them again.

You spotted a chest out of the corner of your eye, and you actually grinned.  “I just hope that these fit.  I’m not as small as I once was.”  You opened up the chest, and sitting right on top was a blue dress bodice.  You threw it over your naked body and twirled around with a loud laugh.  You pulled a simple pair of brown shoes, and tugged a cape over your multicolored locks.  “Okay, let’s go.”

--

“Well my dear, you must be new to the village, I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”  You bowed and lowered your hood, you heard several gasps.  

“We’ve met before my king.  I doubt you remember this but when you were a boy, you loved to explore the caves that were beyond the forest.”

“You’re here for a request from the king, not to reminisce about the good old days.  Ask what you will, and be gone.”  Garth was right, I wouldn’t want to eat her.  She looks too stringy.    

Your smile widened and you looked directly at Princess Becky.  “My request is simple, my king.  I would love it if you kept your bride-to-be away from Sir Garth.”

“Sir Garth?”  Chuck raised his eyebrow and turned to look at his future wife.  “Have you been cornering my knights again, dear?”

“I have your full permission to use your knights in anyway I see fit.”  Becky stood up and called for Garth.  “Sir Garth, do you by chance know this woman?”

“She seems familiar but no, I do not know her.”

“Tell me peasant, how do you know Sir Garth?”

“He’s my mate!”  You growl low in your throat as you transform right there in the throne room.  Your dress is ripped to shreds on the floor as smoke comes out of your nostrils.  

Garth looked at you in awe as you transform.  “Y/N, what in the hell are you doin’ here? Wait, you can turn into a human?”  

“That doesn’t matter right now, knight.  Do your duty and protect your king!”  

You reached forward and grabbed Chuck off of his throne.  “Don’t forget you have had wealth in this kingdom for so long, because I LET YOU have it.  Do not cross me.”  You blow a puff of smoke in his face and chuckle darkly.

“Take him, just please don’t destroy my castle again.”  You dropped Chuck roughly at Becky’s feet before Garth approached your side.  

“Again?”  Garth chuckled as you nuzzled the side of his face.  

“That’s a story for another time my good knight.  Now shall we get out of here?”

--

Forever Tags - @lovetusk @coffee-obsessed-writer@justballoonfishthings @mirajanefairytailmage @kazosa @wings-of-a-raven @docharleythegeekqueen @clockworkmorningglory @lefthologramdeer @ellen-reincarnated1967  @holyfuckloueh @idreamofplaid @buckyscrystalqueen @ilovetaquitosmmmm @n3rdybird @super-fan-of-all-things@disneymarina @sandlee44 @babykalika2001

#spnaubingo #Free Space #Knight!Garth x Dragon!Reader #Garth x Reader #Garth Fitzgerald IV x Reader #Garth Fitzgerald IV fics #Garth AU #SPN AU

[lucidnebulous-blog]

A Night at Will’s Pub

(June 18, 2018-11:27 am)

It’s the space between the words that matter. As a writer, I supply a few choice details and the reader must complete the picture and fill that empty space. In that way, every reader is unique and yet one text supplies the foundation for everything.

I have similar thoughts towards music. I don’t just love music, I absorb it like Spongebob Squarepants absorbs fun and laughter. During my brief stay in Orlando with family this summer, I made it over to Will’s Pub for a show.

The website, like the bar, has a good sense of humor. Their bio reads: “Sure, the thousands of children who’ve allegedly been conceived as a result of the joint’s carnal formula of loud-ass rock ‘n’ roll and free-flowing beer is a mildly interesting footnote…Will’s Pub is basically a neighborhood bar that was colonized by the music community as soon as it opened in 1995. And that now-institutionalized culture and ethos have turned it into one of the Sunshine State’s most established live music venues and an anchor of the city’s creative district.”

As I was walking in, some already drunk guy with a size-too-small Gatorade blue blazer asked the bouncer “there’s no re-entry rules right? I’m tryna find a bar.” The bouncer, with recently dyed snow white hair, chided “bar’s inside, where you should be, and where you should stay.” Hey, I’m just here for the music. Let that guy take care of the free-flowing beer.

My first impression of Will’s Pub was that it was an arcade. I tickled with the idea of becoming Orlando’s pinball wizard but I didn’t want to make any of the locals salty. Plus, I had some music and people watching to take in. In the background, I could hear some Matt & Kim playing and I felt like hitchhiking to Maine.

Being tall at concerts has its pros and cons. Pro #1: great view from anywhere. Con #1: every short person in the venue hates your guts because if you’re not standing in front of a wall, you’re blocking somebody’s view. It’s never personal but drunk people at concerts always think it is so I just mosey my way on to the back, where I can see, and where I don’t obstruct anybody’s view. I think venues should sell an obstructed view ticket for areas behind me. They could charge like half price for indoor shows or double price if it’s an outdoor concert and people want shade.

Anyway as I looked at the latest Urban Outfitters catalog, aka the crowd, I thought that I recognized the entire cast of Superbad. Jonah Hill was doing shots with Dave Franco as they debated on what was the craziest thing James Franco ever did. Jonah said “Michael Cera.”

I was feeling as random as Christopher Mintz-Plasse at this concert, waiting for the show to begin. I wasn’t drinking and I was alone so I started writing. I was at this show under professional journalistic responsibility. I wasn’t like the guy wearing hiking boots for all of the snowy mountains in Orlando. I also wasn’t about to do some magic like Draco Malfoy who I saw in the corner. I was there in pink shoes, gray pants, purple glasses, and a trippy George Harrison shirt that really made me look like I wanted to protest the Vietnam war. I wanted to protest how long they give people in between concert sets. Going to a concert, you can get tired of standing and it takes away from your experience. You gotta work out for shows. Leading up to this show, I would go to the grocery store and stand in front of the bread aisle for hours. An employee came up to me and asked if I needed help finding anything. I told her that I knew where to find the sourdough. I was just practicing for standing at a concert.

I was nailing a caricature of someone who looked like a burned-out Justin Bieber in a knit cap when I thought that maybe I was being too mean with my descriptions. First, I think it’s a compliment for this dude because he looks like every girl’s crush from the late 2000s and it could’ve been JB himself. I don’t know what the Biebs looks like today but if he were in Orlando, a knit cap would be a good disguise. And for the record, I was looking like an awkward giant who doesn’t drink or socialize at bars but rather just writes in a little pocket notebook. Yes, we’re all freaks.

Despite the delay, by the time the show started, I was tuned in and ready to groove. As Gayle (Gay-l-e) took the stage, I started wiggling my knees, then came my hips, wrists, and the most important part: the neck. For somebody just starting out, Gayle captured my critic’s heart. She has the potential for star power and really locked into a vibe. She was a one-woman show that used the power of her voice and acoustic guitar to sound like what I imagine an Alanis Morissette concert sounded like. She was like an amateur fusion of Janis Joplin and Tracy Chapman. Yeah, I know, big praise. But she may be on to something. Her songwriting was incredibly compelling and reminded me of Courtney Barnett. She incorporated a call and response element to a few of her songs. One shout went “You can take my money / Give me your CDs.” Pretty cute and catchy.

After Gayle’s set, I hit the bathroom where I saw a mini prayer alter dedicated to Pabst Blue Ribbon. A flag of blue majestically waved at my back as I did my business. When I went to wash my hands, I saw a graffiti tag name in the mirror that said “Earth B. Flat.”

I briefly fantasized about getting pizza and watching Nickelodeon with this guy who looked like the perfect combination of Drake and Josh when suddenly the next band materialized in the corner of the stage. A woman dressed in black emerged from a guitar amp, followed by a stripped-sweater wearing, long hair having man. The two hi-fived, jumped, and tapped their heels twice. Then two more people came out of the same amp and the music started to play.

Sugar Plum’s lead singer had a very delicate accent when she sang. While she was singing, it was as if she was on the brink of losing her accent but she always held on to it. At one point it started floating up but the drummer threw a drumstick (the ice cream cone version) at it and it came down before she finished the song. Sugar Plum was a fun opener but nothing too special. Just good songs, a fascinating singer, and a great drummer. He laid down a few solos and beat-breaks that had some heads turning from beers and significant others to look at the noise.

This whole time I’ve been writing this I haven’t even mentioned who the headliner was. How rude of me! The headliner was TV Girl, a little dream synth-pop outfit outta Cali. Their brief catalog is pretty fun. They describe their music as being “something you can along to, but wouldn’t sing around your parents.” Fair enough but the music is something that I think a lot of people could agree with. The choruses were agreeable in the way that New Yorker comics are. It takes a second to get it and then once you do, you’re happy, amused, and confused in a muted way. The best thing going for TV Girl was that they turned the crowd into a dancefloor. Their biggest setback was that they were not playing music. Fred and Carrie from Portlandia showed them how to “act-play.” They got up on the stage and stood in front of fancy DJ equipment with lots of lights, switches, and buttons. They were convincing and the did actually sing. I think my favorite part was when they said that they don’t know the term puppy love in France. One of their songs, “Seven Days Until Sunday,” has the same chorus as the title. Sounds like a worthy pop chorus, doesn’t it? They’re the type of band to feign irreverence and I’m the type of writer to feign seriousness.

Because my legs felt like angel hair pre-boiling water, I decided to leave. When I opened the door, a cat ran out of a crack in the sidewalk. A sunflower instantly grew right from the same crack. I looked at the door that said “if you are racist, sexist, homophobic, or an asshole… don’t come in” with approval, made my exit, and then made some pasta.  

#tv girl #will's pub #sugar plum #gayle #lucid nebulous

[sun-spark]

The Serpent’s Court - Riverdale Series

Relationship: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones

Rating: T (some cursing - mild)

Tags: Cuddles, Anxiety, Comfort, Group Dynamics, Southside Serpents, Juvie Guys, Pretty Poisons, Gangs politics

Summary: Jughead and Betty sneak over to spend the night with Archie during a rare moment of calm. The discussions they hold in the still of the night will spell change for the Serpents, the Poisons, and the friends Archie brought home from Juvie. But while the fates of their respective groups hang in the balance of their words, Archie doubts his place and it’s left to the King and Queen of the Serpents to remind their Consort how important he is. Or Archie’s home from Juvie and insecure, Betty and Jughead reassure him - Consort is used in a non-creepy way - and the three of them debate how best to lead the Serpents and the Juvie guys, and how to control the Poisons. Also, someone actually acknowledges Archie’s trauma and him having a hard time coping after Juvie and Canada! Shocking concept, I know.

Note: This is the first in a series where I hope to explore the relations of the groups like the Serpents, the Juvie Guys, or the Poisons, and how Jughead, Betty, and Archie lead them and how Jughead forms his court to help the king rule. Some fics will be centered around these three, some around Sweet Pea and Fangs, and some around FP and Fred. I hope you’ll come on this journey with me and enjoy it.

Ao3 Link: Here

Part One: Serpent King, Queen, and Consort

Enjoy~

Archie sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. When he’d come home he’d collapsed backwards onto his bed, not bothering to change, and merely went still, legs on the bed but his feet hooked over the side, head barely on the pillow, and a hand over his face. He was tired…tired, exhausted, achy…weary, that was the word. Jughead was the writer, he would have known a more elegant term, one to better sum up how Archie was feeling. Archie’d never been good with words, in his own opinion. Even the songs he wrote never imparted the meaning he wanted.

He was broken from his train of thought by the sound of his door slowly creaking open. He lifted the hand from his eyes and looked towards the end of his room, he was too tired to raise his head so his view wasn’t the best, but he recognized the silhouette and shuffling footsteps of his oldest friend.

“Hey Jug.” He murmured.

The boy in question grinned silently in lieu of greeting, and laid down beside him, propping himself up and resting his head on a bent hand so he could look down at the redhead. Archie watched him with hooded eyes but didn’t make move or sound to protest or question him. “Hey Bud.” It wasn’t a whisper, but it was quiet and spoken in a soft tone that was normally reserved for Betty. Archie hummed but didn’t answer, Jughead didn’t mind. “You been okay? Kinda heard through the grapevine you lost it there for a bit.”

Archie groaned softly, more from embarrassment than anything else, the hand previously hovering a few inches over his head now pressing to his brow and over closed eyes. Jughead didn’t laugh, but the smile on his lips could be heard in his tone. “Not surprising really. How anyone expected you not to have a bit of a tailspin coming out of the hell hole we call Leopold and Loeb Juvie, I’ll never know.”

Archie sighed, hand dropping with a thump to his chest. “Yeah…” His voice was rough. Too little use in Canada? Exhaustion? Hell if he knew anymore. “Didn’t…Didn’t know how to cope.” He paused and some part of him wished Jughead would fill that void with words, fill it so Archie didn’t have to. He didn’t. He merely waited patiently for Archie to find the words he needed. “I…It was hell. In there. The guards were sadistic, Ghoulies caused trouble, the Serpents didn’t want me at first…changed pretty quick when I took Joaquin’s place…” He stared up at the ceiling without seeing it, eyes far away and unfocussed, Jughead watched and waited patiently. “All I did was fight, train, fight, and survive….I should be glad I’m out….”

His voice faded in strength as his words ended. The pause lasted longer now, and Jughead’s hand rose for his fingers to trace gently through Archie’s hair. “But…?” He prompted gently. Archie sighed heavily, eyes squeezing shut as if he could hide away from what he was going to say, from the truth of it. “I almost wish I was still there.”

Jughead didn’t say anything. “I…I hated it, hated the guards, Warden Norton, Hiram Lodge…I hated seeing my…brothers, coming back cut up and bruised with broken ribs that weren’t going to be fixed because of those stupid bastards making us fight….But out here…” His voice cracked from the strain of emotion he wasn’t expressing. “Swinging a sledgehammer doesn’t work. The silence was familiar but it wasn’t comforting and hitting things doesn’t help. I fought to survive…and there’s nothing for me to fight here…not the way I need to.”

His words had faded out into a whisper, and he was done talking now, slightly breathless from the weight of his emotions and frustrations. Jughead knew that from his tone, from every line of his expression. He ran his fingers through Archie’s hair gently. “I’m sorry we weren’t there for you. I…” He swallowed thickly, looking away even though Archie’s eyes were closed. “I’m sorry I was so caught up in trying to figure out that damn game that I wasn’t there.”

His eyes tracked from wall to floor and across where they lay on the bed on a path back to Archie’s face. He stilled when they met Archie’s, hazel-brown eyes watching him from under hooded lids from within a calm, nearly blank expression. Archie’s hand came up slowly and brushed over his cheek, curving over his bones to cup his jaw. He held them there, a gentle touch rather than a demanding one. “It’s alight Jug. I know things got crazy for a while. And as for that game, it fucked with your head. That’s what it was designed to do. It’s ok.”

Jughead’s gaze had fallen at some point in shame, now it rose again to meet unaccusing eyes. He tilted his head, rubbing his cheek into Archie’s palm for a brief moment. Archie grinned and let the hand drop without care, holding Jughead’s gaze with an affectioned one of his own. “What are you doing here anyway Jug?”

Jughead hummed as he toed his shoes off and pulled his legs up under himself. “We wanted to spend some time with you while it’s calm for a night. Your Dad let me up, didn’t question it at all, which is kind of adorable really. He just said goodnight, shut and locked the door, and went to bed.”

Archie raised a tired brow at him. “We?”

Jughead hummed, “Betty should be here in a little bit.” Archie’s attention was drawn by the sound of a locking unlatching and his window sliding open. Jughead’s eyes tracked to the parting panes of glass overflowing with silver moonlight and he grinned. “Now, actually.”

A blonde ponytail bobbed into the room as the girl it belonged to silently set her feet on the wooden floor and slid the window shut again behind her. Grey-green eyes lit with sparks flickered across the expanse to rest on them and she smiled as she moved towards them, framed by the moon’s silver light. “Hey guys.” She bent briefly to share a kiss with Jughead before plopping herself down by Archie’s feet.

Looking down at said feet she laughed softly, a brief tinkling sound of joy in the dim room. “Oh Arch, guess you’re tired, huh?” She set about unlacing his shoes as he hummed in response and he tracked his eyes to her, leg twitching as if to move but not following through. “ ‘Don’t have to do that Betty.” She looked up at him and grinned, fingers not stopping as they parted the last of the laces and slid his sneakers off. “I don’t mind Arch. You don’t look like you’re sitting up any time soon.” Both shoes on the ground, she slid her own off and tucked her legs under her, leaning back on a hand and turning towards them. “You doing ok?”

Archie nodded quietly under Jughead’s watchful eye and the raven-haired boy decided to fill in the gaps for her. “I was, apologizing, that we weren’t there the last few weeks, and,” His gaze dropped and he hung his head guiltily, “for how I was when you went to get him.”

Archie grunted quietly, voice needing a moment to work properly, and he raised a hand to hook his finger’s under Jughead’s chin. “Already told you, it’s ok.” Jughead huffed quietly, not really expressing any strong emotion but met the redhead’s eyes evenly, affection lighting his eyes.

Betty spoke up then, hand idly curling over Archie’s ankle, fingers moving in a gentle caress. “Things definitely got crazy lately, even now that you’re home-“

Jughead scoffed a laugh, cutting her off, “Yeah, Archie here blackmailed a governor, got five inmates pardoned, and adopted them all!” Archie grinned wryly as Betty rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she shot Jug a look and he shut his mouth with a grin that she returned as he eyes returned to Archie, the redhead watching them fondly. “You’re home now, and, all the chaos aside, you have us.”

Jughead reached up to run his fingers through Archie’s hair, blue-green eyes searching his expression affectionately. “Yep. I’ve got the Serpents to deal with, and Betty’s helping me while she deals with destroying the Farm, slowly, and you’ve definitely got your Juvie buddies to take care off – none of them are small tasks. But the three of us have each other now, no more crazy drama in that arena, and we’re gonna be ok.”

Betty smirked mischievously, teasing tones ringing out to cover them both in a blanket of contented happiness. “And while my mom is awol and my dad is definitely a serial killer, FP certainly won’t frame you for murder or try to have you killed!” Jughead grinned and started with “Well wait a minute-!” As Archie groaned, sending the other two breaking off into grins and laughter.

When they had calmed down Archie shook his head gently, chuckling lightly as he began to speak, head turning towards Jughead so he could find the boy’s eyes. “ ‘Bout that Jug, I was thinking, about the Serpents ‘n the Poisons, and my guys….” He trailed off sheepishly.

Jughead tilted his chin up in a curious expression, mindful to keep a gentle expression on his face rather than the serious one he normally took for Serpent matters. “What is it Arch?”

Archie looked down shyly, “’s probably stupid.” Jughead clucked his tongue lightly but did not force the other boy to look at him. “True you haven’t had the most…logically sound? plans in the last year and a half Archie,” The boy flushed and curled in on himself ever so slightly, and Jughead ducked his head down to catch his eye, holding his gaze as he spoke. “You’re a smart guy Archie, and way more observant than people give you credit for. And you’ve…grow up, since then. You’ve had to.” He lifted his head back up and Archie’s eyes trailed after him, holding his gaze shyly. “Don’t underestimate yourself, you’ve saved the Serpent’s hides more than once in that time.”

Archie watched him for a moment, his eyes searching for a lie, for a half-truth, or any sign of hesitation. When there were none to be found he took a breath and collected his thoughts, speaking slowly, ensuring he said exactly what he meant. “I’m not suggesting my guys become Serpents, I don’t think they’d go for that, they’re too… well, they’re used to relying only on each other.” Jughead hummed noncommittedly, “But they worked well with your guys when we were helping Mad Dog, they get along with most of your guys, and I know they would benefit from having friends to call on. They…” He paused, visibly hesitating and trying to find the right words, Jughead let him.

“They wouldn’t be Serpents. Not yet, and not for a while at least, maybe not ever, but they would be allies.” He met Jughead’s eyes clearly, the conviction of a warrior certain of his comrades lighting his gaze and steadying his voice. “If the Serpents gave them the loyalty they gave each other, they would return it tenfold. They will die for one another, and more importantly they will fight to the death for one another. They would do the same for your Serpents if it was earned and returned.”

He had finished, said what he intended and had no need to rush to fill the void of silence with ramblings, now he waited. Jughead sat for a moment and breathed, thinking, giving this the same consideration Archie had until he had come to a decision. “You’re right, and I know any decent Serpents, my Serpents, would feel and do the same.” He sighed quietly, a finality rather than an exasperation. “Besides, both of them, your guys and mine, need the allies right now.”

Archie waited long enough to know he was finished speaking, then interject quietly, “I do not speak for them, not like you do the Serpents, but I think if we talked to them…they trust me.” His eyes met Jughead’s and he shrugged slightly. “We don’t have a King, we trust each other, and if one of us leads in a certain direction, the others decide if they will follow. Normally, we do.”

Jughead nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll talk to the Serpents, firstly with those I trust the most like Sweet Pea, Fangs, and Jinx, and I wouldn’t mind asking Old Testament, he’s an elder and everyone respects his word. If they’re open to it, you and I, possibly with Sweet Pea and Fangs, will go and talk to your guys.”

Betty interjected smoothly, capturing both the boy’s attention as she always did. “That’s a good plan, provided you guys make sure there aren’t any loopholes or people violently opposed who will cause problems.”

Archie spoke up again, “And I know that you guys have a headquarters but some of the Serpents are still homeless, my guys have turned the back rooms of the gym into living areas. They need a lot of work, but there are several large, unused rooms. We could set up a temporary home there.”

Jughead nodded again, eyes unfocusing as he stared at the wall. After a moment he blinked and shook his head lightly, as if to dislodge cobwebs, and looked back at Archie with a raised brow. “Now then,” Archie, having zoned out, practically startled as his attention snapped back to Jughead. “You also mentioned the Poisons, why?”

There was no mistaking there was more of an edge to his tone now, and Archie responded to it by curling his shoulders inward and wrapping his arms over his stomach, hugging himself, once again appearing nearly timid. “Ah, that.” Jughead raised a brow. “Yes Archie, ‘that’.” Archie sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Look, you’re not gonna like this, but if I’m right, it might solve a few problems.” His hand dropped and he met Jughead’s gaze steadily. “But you’re not going to like it, hell, you’ll probably get angry at at least one point.”

Jughead’s brow climbed higher and Betty chose to play mediator, laying a hand on Jughead’s shoulder. Though he didn’t break his stare with Archie to look at her, he listened. “Look, Juggie, sometimes being the leader means doing what’s best, even if you don’t like it. Just hear him out and think about whatever it is, rationally.” Jughead made an aborted noise of argument in his throat that turned into a sigh. “Fine. What is it, Archie?”

Archie watched him for a moment, then stated, clearly and calmly in an even tone, “You need the Poisons back, for both the sake of numbers and because they are loose cannons. They aren’t operating on Serpent law nor under an honor code anymore, hell they’ve attack Sweet Pea and Fangs to prove a point, and I know those two didn’t fight back against their former sisters.” Jughead’s jaw tightened and Betty’s hand moved to his neck, rubbing soothingly there. Archie gave pause for a heart’s beat but did not waver in determination nor tone. “Toni is smart, and she was loved by many of the Serpents, and she is blood. She is currently a threat, and I know she demanded you make her Queen in exchange for their return-“

Jughead sneered, lips pulling back to reveal canines, making him appear for a moment as more of a wolf than a serpent. Archie raised a hand and tangled it in his shirt near his collar, tugging lightly as if to bring him back to the present. “I know, Jug. Betty is your Queen, she always will be,” He ignored the tone ringing far too close to hurt in his voice, but he knew from Betty’s expression it wasn’t going unnoticed or unaddressed. “and frankly, Toni has more or less lost the right to it after the stunts she’s pulled-“

Jughead’s growled ‘damn straight’ interrupted him.

“But,“ He pressed on patiently, "she would be a valuable player to have helping you lead, for both her blood and her mind. So think about this: Make the Poisons Serpents again, have them under Serpent law and no longer attacking your people. Offer Toni a place as an advisor or a general, she would be a valuable asset there and it would give her the opportunity to lead.”

Betty considered for a moment and interrupted, “That, could work, and it would be a benefit to eliminate one of the rival gangs by reabsorbing them. You’ve already done that with some of the Ghoulies and Gargoyles, Jug.” Archie gave a short laugh that was more a sheepish noise than anything else, drawing their attention back to him with raised brows from both.

“And here’s the part you really won’t like,” he mumbled that slightly, but it was perfectly clear in the still room. Jughead’s brow rose farther and Archie continued in a normal tone. “The Poisons defected for a reason, granted it was only eight of them, but…” He sighed, “Look, Jug, the Serpents still have some really shitty practices and biases where the girls are concerned. They left because of that, plain and simple.”

Jughead blinked and thought about that for a moment, then he sighed. “Yeah, fine, that was one thing I needed to deal with…bodies dropping and a violent drug trade kind of got in the way…” Archie tilted his head sympathetically. “So how about this? If Toni can agree to be an advisor rather than a Queen, meaning that ultimately you have the final say but you do have to listen to her, add this for her and her girls: Let the Poisons remain their own group, under Toni’s care, but as a subset of the Serpents.”

Betty’s brows furrowed. “How would that work Archie?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, then tried a second time. “Basically? Toni is your advisor, along with Betty and, I’m pretty sure, Sweet Pea and Fangs? That gives her a say where she felt she had none. The Poisons remain Poisons, that gives them a safe place and a community support in a, frankly?, not female-friendly-as-of-yet environment.” He waited to see if they would challenge that, they didn’t. “However, that would be under the condition that they are Serpents first. They follow Serpent law and obey your orders above all. Toni is in charge of directing them and keeping them in line. Think of it, kind of like a union within a workforce, yeah?”

Silence reigned for a moment, then another, and Archie waited anxiously to see how badly he had just messed things up. Eventually, Jughead snorted, the sudden sound startling Archie as the raven-haired boy shook his head. “That’s mad, completely mad…but it might just work.” He chuckled and shook his head with a little more fervor, eyes moving from a blank stare to refocus on Archie. Seeing the boy’s expression, he chuckled again and leaned forward to press a kiss to the redhead’s forehead. “You might just be a genius, Archie.”

Archie chuckled sheepishly, red flushing into his cheeks, he wasn’t quite comfortable with such blatant affection or praise yet. Behind Jughead’s shoulder, when he sat up, Betty grinned almost wickedly. “When did you turn into a strategist Archie?” She teased. He chuckled softly and shook his head. Her expression turned more serious.

“Now then,” Archie stilled immediately, nervousness filling his stomach. “What was that when you mentioned me being the Jug’s Queen?” He shrugged and made a noncommittal noise that roughly translated to ‘I-dunno’. She leveled him with a not quite glare. “Don’t try that, you know exactly what I mean.”

Jughead, previously having been leaned back against her, unfolded himself from her side and sat up. “Yeah, that wasn’t a happy tone.”

Archie looked away from them, ducking his head, and trying for all the world to hide without actually leaving from his place. Betty reached out and rubbed a hand over his arm soothingly, “Archie, it’s ok, whatever it is. We’re all new to this, whatever you’re feeling, it’s ok.”

He didn’t look at them, eyes watching the corner of his room where the dust swirled lazily in the moonlight, but he took a shaky breath and began to speak, his voice a thread of insecurity. “I…” His jaw locked together, and his voice died in his throat. Jughead’s calm tone reached his ears, soothing in his turmoil. “You can tell us, Archie.” He breathed, then again, and once more, forcing his throat to open again. “I-I don’t…understand, how-” He broke off and tried again, “where, I belong.”

It was a string of wounded words woven together to float on a fearful voice filled with pain. It broke their hearts. Betty stood and shifted him over gently to lay on his other side opposite Jughead, her arms wrapping around him. Jughead shifted closer to him, one arm wrapping underneath him to hold him close. Further up the bed than both Archie and Betty, he rested his cheek against Archie’s head.

“Archie.” He uttered softly. “You practically just suggested I form a court, and yeah, Betty is the Serpents’ Queen, and mine. So why can’t you be, I don’t know,” He paused for a breath, “like our Consort?”

A confused and sad noise came from Archie’s throat and Betty looked up at Jughead in a ‘what-the-hell’ kind of confusion. He huffed a quiet laugh, “Yeah, I know, it has a bit of a negative connotation, doesn’t it? Ignore that, ‘s the result of shitty culture and a few really bad kings.” He nosed at Archie’s hair, taking a moment to put his words together correctly. “They could be anything, Arch, advisors, warriors, leaders, companions, lovers; many times, all of those and more.”

Archie’s quiet voice floated up to him in a broken whisper. “They were playthings.”

Jughead held him tighter, lips pressing to his head firmly in a kiss. “No, Archie. To stupid, insane monarchs maybe, but not in the way I mean. They were loved, dearly and desperately. Kings and Queens went against everyone and everything for them, risked punishment, exile, or even death to be with them.” He tilted his head down, nosing at Archie’s forehead. “No, Archie, no. They were loved more dearly than anything. Were more important than anything or anyone.”

He pressed a kiss to Archie’s temple. “And yeah, they had to share, but so what? Is that so horrible? Betty and I share you, share each other, just like you share us.”

Betty raised her head from Archie’s shoulder and raised herself up on an elbow to look down at him fondly. “Archie.” She waited until his eyes shyly met hers, hating the insecurity she saw in those amber orbs. “You are so many things, to us, to the guys you saved from Juvie, to the Serpents: Counselor, leader, brother, soldier, healer, protector, and so, so much more.” She cupped a hand under his jaw gently and held his gaze. “You are not a plaything to us Archie. We love you, as much as each other, and we would do no less for you than we have for one another.”

Archie held her gaze for a moment. Stillness reigned as she held his gaze and Jughead held him, watching them both. He broke, eyes sliding away from hers as three droplets fell from his lashes in silent tears. “’m sorry. I…I’m not used to…” He broke off and they held him closer.

“We know Archie, we know. It’s okay.” Betty soothed him, before Jughead reassured him. “You’ll learn Archie, we’ll teach you, ok? We know your past,” Grundy’s manipulation, Veronica’s betrayal and her father’s cruelty, Cheryl using him, and all the people to whom he had been only a plaything, Jughead didn’t name, he didn’t have to. “and we’re not expecting you to be well adjusted anytime soon, not after how much you’ve been hurt.” He ducked his head down and kissed him chastely, hovering there for a moment as he spoke softly. “You’ll get there, and we’ll help you.”

Archie didn’t try to speak, not trusting his voice, instead, he shifted so he could wrap an arm around Betty and could curl his other hand in Jughead’s shirt. Silently he used action to express what he did not trust his words to do. He pressed a lingering kiss to Betty’s head, then another to Jughead’s forehead. They merely held him close, held him safe where he could heal. Tomorrow they would lead their groups, tomorrow they would negotiate the politics of protecting all those under their care, but for tonight…Tonight they would rest wrapped in each other’s love and they would heal.

#archie andrews x jughead jones x betty cooper #jughead jones/archie andrews #jughead jones/betty cooper #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale #ao3 #ao3fic #serpent king #serpent queen #serpent consort #serpent court #southside serpents #juvie guys #cross pollinated posting

[thesentimentalmisfit]

Storm Haven (Prologue)

PROLOGUE

It’s been three years since the rainstorm inside of me started. And I have no idea when it will end—or if it will ever end. All I know is that the thunder and dark clouds are here to stay, like the memories of these past three years raining down on me.

It’s hard, I must admit. Living with thunder and dark clouds inside me. But I suppose I just got so used to it that I don’t remember how a sunny day felt like anymore. Not that I’ve never been happy for the past three years; it’s just that every time it rains—literally and metaphorically—I remember a lot of things. And for a person with a past like mine, remembering was quite a lonely thing to do.

And it’s not just remembering; the rain also makes me feel a lot of things. Because you see, I feel like during the most challenging moments of my life, it was the rain that accompanied me. She – yes, I’d like to think that the rain is a she just like the wind is a he – was with me every time I felt extreme emotions. She was there when I was most frightened. She was there when I was the saddest. She was there when I felt most lost.

Lost. I kind of like that word. For some reason, it reminds me of myself.

Most of the time I feel lost, and my soul is trapped in this world, endlessly wandering, trying to find where it belongs. And feeling lost is not even the main problem; it’s the feeling of not belonging anywhere. Like what if the universe has sort of forgotten about me and left me on its grand plan? What if the stars don’t ever conspire for my story to reach its pinnacle? What if I don’t get my happy ending?

What ifs. See? I told you the rain affect my way of thinking. Or feeling. Or both.

“I don’t like it because it makes me feel a lot of things,” I repeated, sighing.

“Isn’t feeling a good thing?” Sara asked again.

“Not always,” I replied. “Because it makes me sad. And scared. But more scared than sad. It just makes me remember a lot of things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Things I’ll probably never get over with.”

Sara didn’t ask any more questions after that; she probably knew the answer. It’s a thing about her; she always understands. She always understands me even during times when even I don’t understand myself. Maybe that’s why I once fell in love with her. But unlike her, I never understood everything—including her. And maybe that’s why she fell out of love from me. Although one thing between Sara and me that I’ll never understand is the fact that we remained close friends even after our breakup. I mean, how often does that happen?

It’s been raining for the past four days now so that meant I have also been extra emotional for four days.

The first day it rained, Sara was here because it was her day off. She works at a local clinic in town as an aid. She’s not exactly a nurse—because she didn’t take the exams hence has no license—but she’s also not a “small time worker” like how I’d describe her. She’s actually a big shot at the clinic; people, especially kids, love her. Or more like adore her. The day she moved from the Safe Haven to our clinic, she had been the talk of the town. They said her personality is as beautiful as her smile, and I couldn’t object to that. At the clinic, she assists doctors on their needs, although she tells me that she doesn’t really do anything other than pass the doctors stuff and keep children entertained. Nonetheless, she takes pride in her job, and she loves it.

Having a job. Sometimes I missed working, and to be honest, I envy Sara and Marc on that.

I wonder how people at the office are doing. Not that I missed them.

On the second day that it rained, Marc was here to write his novel. He says writing in my room helps him write because I don’t talk much. It’s his thing—writing in total silence. He’s a writer, obviously, and like Sara, he’s pretty big time at he’s “job.” He hates it when I call what he do as his job because he insists that it’s his passion so it shouldn’t really count as one. As of now, he was written countless novels, although only two of them were published and are on the market. He’s pretty famous, I must say, because sometimes some random fan would talk to us and ask him to sign their books. Aside from being a writer, Marc’s other “job” is being my best friend. And just to put it out there, he also happens to be gay. We we’re still kids when he confessed to me that he is, but it was in college when he confessed that he fell in love with me.

During the third day of rain he was here again but he didn’t bring his laptop with him to write; we watched movies instead. Comedy, he insisted, because he knew I’m still feeling blue. Not that it’s not normal for me. Now it’s the fourth day and Sara’s here again. She only works four days a week, with Monday and the weekends her days-off. After the small talk about my angst towards the rain, recognizing my mood, she went downstairs and to the kitchen to make our lunch. Dad is working at the library so it’s just me and her in the house.

The smell of Sara’s cooking made me even sadder; somehow it reminded me of my mom’s cooking. My mother was a great cook.

As if reading my thoughts, Sara shouted, “Don’t you fucking cry!”

That made me smile.

“You can’t stop me!” I shouted back.

The truth is, my eyes were already in tears. And maybe Sara knew I’m already crying. For some inexplicable reason, tears were the easiest form of expression to me. My eyes tear up when I laugh too much. Tears come out when I’m extremely mad. And, naturally, tears fall when I’m really sad. And even if it was embarrassing, I’m thankful for being a crybaby. Because tears, for me, are validation that I feel. That I can still feel. That inside me are emotions, albeit pent up, that are real.

Real, I like that word.

The raindrops are real. Sara is real. Marc is real. Dad is real. But me, I don’t know if I’m real. Aside from my tears, I’m not sure if I could ever look in the mirror and see myself as I am now, without seeing myself as how I used to be before the “Lucy Incident.”

Lucy, I don’t know whether to like or dislike that name.

Lucy, my mom. Maria Lucilia Santos. She’s dead now. And maybe, just maybe, it was my fault.

Everybody keeps telling me that it wasn’t my fault but in reality, their eyes say otherwise. It wasn’t that their eyes tell me that I killed her. It’s just that their eyes tell me that I am at least partly to blame, and that it was right for me to be locked up in Safe Haven for a year. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe I deserve all of it: the blame in people’s eyes, my one year in the hospice, and me not seeing my own reflection in the mirror.

Sara pushed the door open almost an hour later, the scent of Sinigang filling the entire room.

“Just like how Lucy would’ve made it,” she said, putting down the tray on my study table. “Get up. Eat.”

My mother is a Filipino, and Sinigang is a famous dish from the Philippines. It was my mom’s specialty and admittedly my favorite among all her dishes.

“Why?” I asked her, getting up from my bed.

Understanding what I meant, she quickly replied, “Because I know you’re thinking about her again. And I thought, instead of running away from her ghost, maybe it’s okay to embrace her sometimes.”

For some reason, I understood what she meant and it comforted me.

“Okay,” I simply said. I sat down on my wooden chair while Sara sat on my bed, waiting for me to try her cooking. The chair was cold, giving shivers to my spine. Perfect, I thought, the soup is hot anyway.

Just when I was about to try and have a taste, my phone rang. It was Marc.

“Hey,” he greets, panting, his voice sounding as if he just ran a few miles. The thing is, Marc doesn’t run. Or to be more precise, Marc never runs. He hates any form of physical activities. Well, except from swimming. We both like to swim.

“What’s up?”

“I have news.”

“What kind of news?”

“Like a huge one.” I could tell that he was smiling.

“What is it? Just spill the beans.”

“Shit. Shit. Well, um, the truth is—I have a date.”

To be completely honest, at first I didn’t know what to feel. Marc has been my best friend for more than half of my life and in the years that we’ve spent together, I’ve only seen him went out with a guy once. And this guy, Luke, became his boyfriend of four years. So I know he doesn’t “just date.” I knew that this is something serious. He even once explained to me that he has to get to know the guy really well before developing feelings for him. When he told me that he has fallen in love with me, it had already been almost than a year, so I know that whoever this guy is isn’t some random guy he just met.

“Seriously?” I asked, trying my best to sound excited for him. The truth is, I’m worried.

“What’s going on?” Sara asked in the background. She knew it was Marc who called; nobody calls me anyway.

“Yes,” Marc replied, letting out a few breaths.

“Calm down, you stupid. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Well, his name is John. He’s an artist.”

“An artist like—”

“He draws. He’s really good. He paints, too.”

“Nice. Anything else I need to know? How old is he?”

“Younger than us by two years. 25.”

“Okay, and?” I actually didn’t know what else to say so I just let him keep going.

“Can I just tell him about you in person? I actually called to talk about our date. It’s next Saturday.”

“Okay, at least you still got a week to prepare. Where?”

“Movie house. 7pm. But hey, I haven’t told you that important part yet. I have one problem.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t hang up, okay? And don’t overreact. I need to ask you for a favor.”

I tensed. I knew it’d be something I wouldn’t be comfortable with. “What kind of favor?”

“I kind of told John we should make it a double date.”

“What?” I blurted out, not even trying to hide the annoyance in my voice. “Are you really stupid?” I call him stupid a lot. It’s kind of our thing. Maybe it’s even our—weird—term of endearment. “It’s your first date in what—two, three years—and you want two chaperones tagging along with you? And wait, what’s the favor—” I paused, thinking. But when I realized what it is, “No, no, no. You have got to be kidding me. You want me to be the other couple? Are you crazy?”

“Why? What’s the big deal? You haven’t gone out of the house—”

“That’s not the point,” I cut him off. “Why would you bring me into this? And you, Marc, of all people, should know that I don’t do stuff like this. I hate people, remember? Aren’t you an antisocial, too? You should know what it feels to—”

“I know, I know.” I could imagine his face just then. It’s the face he makes when he tries to comfort me every time I play on my mood swing. “But you’ll be with me. So don’t panic. It’s just that I felt really pressured going on a date after three years so right after he asked me out, I had to think of something that could at least help me relax during—”

“I’m not a toy, Marc. You can’t just bring me along wherever you want to go. If it’s just the two of us, you know I’d do it. But it’s your date, stupid. Besides, who on earth should I bring along?”

 Marc made a sound on the other line. It sounded something like he, he.

  “What does that supposed to mean?” I asked, started to get pissed.

 “Tell me. Are you alone right now?’

 “No, I’m with—no! Are you out of your mind?”

 “What on earth is happening?” Sara spoke again, tugging the sleeves of my shirt.

 I decided to hang up.

“What did he say?” Sara asked me, obviously intrigued.

“Nothing.”

“You’re face has gone completely red. Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

“Marc has a date on Saturday.”

The she made out this long aww just like how when she and Marc do it when they see puppies. “Then that’s a good thing! What else did he tell you? And why do you look pissed off?”

“Well, this stupid friend of ours turned his once-in-a-lifetime—not to mention first in so many years—date as a double date. And guess what, he wants me to be the other party.”

Then she burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny!”

She laughed even harder.

“I bet you would stop laughing when you hear whom he suggested as my date.”

“Who?” she asked, trying to contain her laughter.

I just gave her a look.

Then, after a few seconds, finally understanding what is happening, she took out her phone and dialed someone. All of a sudden, her face turned serious. Before I could understand what she’s about to do, I heard her say on the phone, “Hey, Marc. Leave us out of this, will you?”

Then she hung up, and stormed out of my room.

---------- 

The rain kept pouring. It was just half past one in the afternoon but the world outside looked and felt like it was nighttime. I remember three years ago. It was also on a day like this when the Lucy incident happened.

And just like that, the emotions I felt earlier that day—before Marc and his date, and Sara and her Sinigang happened—came rushing back to me. My mother’s memory was like a trigger. Each time I imagine her body sprawled out the kitchen floor, something just ticks inside me, shooting hundreds and hundreds of emotions inside my bloodstream. I wonder if there will come a day when, instead of remembering this, I’d remember my mom before the incident happened.

That’d be nice. How nice would it feel to remember Yellow Lucy, in her famous yellow dress, casually walking up our front porch, bags of groceries in both her arms? How comforting would it feel to remember Mom nibbling my earlobes as she sings Somewhere Over the Rainbow right before I sleep? How lovely would it feel to remember dad and his darling dancing in front of the fridge, with no music and no lights on, just the two of them and the beating of their hearts?

The sad thing is, that day may never come. Or will it?

Again interrupting my ever-so-depressing thoughts, my phone rang. It was Dad. I thought it was weird that he’s calling; he rarely does.

“Hi, Dad. What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as I could.

“Hi, son. Your favorite author, Nicholas Sparks, right?”

It got weirder. “Um, yes. Why?”

“He’s got this new book—”

“I already read that, Dad” I cut him off. “We’re you planning to buy it for me?”

“Well, yes. I thought maybe…”

I could actually imagine how his exact face looked like just then. I call it his lost face. It’s as if he’s lost inside his thoughts. Maybe I got that from him.

“Do you want any new books? I’m on a break and I’m here at the bookstore…”

Dad and his books. If there’s one thing that we could talk about, it’s music and books. Music is out of the picture though, since he kind of forgotten how to sing ever since my mom died. So it’s just books now.

“Thanks, Dad, I appreciate it. But I’m okay.”

“How about Marc?”

Really, Dad? I wanted to say but I didn’t. I knew he likes Marc. A lot. They could talk for hours. In fact, not that I’m complaining, I think he likes Marc more than me. And I have absolutely no problem with that.

“I’m not sure if Marc reads these days, Dad. He’s writing his third novel, remember?”

“Oh.” I could see him slowly turning to his lost face again.

Just when I was about to tell him to just buy a book for himself, there was a knock on the door. First just one, then a lot. Loud knocks.

“That must be Marc. Dad, Marc’s here—”

“Okay, okay. I’ll get going, then.”

“Bye, Dad.” Then he hang up.

“Open up!” Marc kept shouting.

Carrying the tray with what used to be a bowl of Sinigang, I went downstairs and opened the door for him. “Dad already gave you a copy of our house key, why shout? And why are you here? Aren’t you working?”

“I’m a writer, stupid. I got all the time in the world.”

“Don’t be such a wise ass.”

Then he suddenly looked hurt, like he was about to apologize.

“I wasn’t sure whether you want me in. Are you mad?”

The truth is—and Marc knows this—I can’t ever be mad at him. So instead of answering his question, I motioned for him to come inside. I walked towards the kitchen and saw that there’s still Sinigang left. Actually, a lot of it left; Sara cooked for everybody.

“Where’s Sara?”

“She left. Mad, I think. You wanna eat?”

“No, thanks. Mad? At who? Me? Or you?”

“At Dad,” I said. Then I walked back, towards the front porch, sitting on my father’s rocking chair. Marc kept following me. He sat on the steps instead. I was about to add that he’ll get wet sitting there but did not say it.

Understanding the sarcasm, he continued, “Is it really a big deal?”

“What is?”

“You and Sara going on a date. It’s a pretend-date, anyway.”

The truth is, I already thought about it and I realized that it really wasn’t. But it was still a date, and it would definitely feel different from the times when she, Marc and I go out. It would be awkward. At least for me.

“I don’t know, Marc.” I just said.

“Why did she leave anyway? It’s the weekend. We’re supposed to hang out.”

“It’s Sara. She’s a girl. We don’t always get her.”

If the universe has a thousand secrets, the key to understanding women would definitely be one of them.

And I think that it’s not just because I have really few experience with them, considering the only women in my life are Sara and my mom—the latter we never even talk about. It’s also because it’s in their nature—not to be understood all the time. They’re like a puzzle that not everyone could solve.

So that leaves Sara as the only woman in my life. Not that I’m complaining. I love Sara. Heck, I even fell in love with her once. It’s just that she, just like every other women in the world, is just so hard to understand.

“But I’m gay, remember.” It wasn’t a question.

“So?”

“So I have an idea why.”

“Why then?”

“If I tell you, you won’t like it.”

“Tell me.”

“I won’t. You have to figure it out for yourself.”

“Fine. Then don’t.”

Marc sighed. Then slowly shook his head.

“What does that mean?”

“For a poet, you’re pretty dumb.”

“I’m not a poet.”

“Yes, you are. You and your poems. Me and my stories.”

“That’s history, Marc.”

“Just because you stopped doing something doesn’t mean you’ll never be able to do it again, you know.”

I decided not to say something.

“It’s like… just because a relationship ended doesn’t mean your love for that person will also end. Love doesn’t go away. It could fade, but it never goes away.”

“Your profession suits you so well.”

He sighed again. “You’re really dumb, do you know that?”

“What on earth are you trying to tell me?”

“You, stupid. What if I told you that Sara’s still in love with you?”

For some reason, the rain stopped falling just then.

----------

CHAPTER ONE

How Marc and I Met 

CHAPTER TWO

Sara, My Safe Haven

CHAPTER THREE

Yellow Lily 

CHAPTER FOUR

Marc and the Day He Tried to Kiss Me

CHAPTER FIVE

Dad

CHAPTER SIX

Sara and the Day I Fell in Love

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Day I Fall Out of Love

CHAPTER EIGHT

Marc and His Perfect Date

CHAPTER NINE

Why Didn’t You Tell Me, Sara?

CHAPTER TEN

Summer

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sara and the Day She Punched Summer

CHAPTER TWELVE

A Bromantic Relationship with Marc

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Thunder and Dark Clouds

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Lily Incident

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dad, Part Two

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A Day with Summer

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Where’s Sara?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Marc and the Day He Tried to Kiss Me Again

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Melancholia

CHAPTER TWENTY

Lily’s Ghost

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Choices

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

What Is Love?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Secret of the Rain

EPILOGUE