Pairing: Jughead x reader Description: Jughead and reader develop a close friendship and reader joins blue and gold. The blue and gold editors are investigating leads on the Jason Blossom murder, and homecoming is around the corner. ————————————————— Over the next couple of months, Jughead and I hung out quite a lot, which led to me becoming close friends with Archie, Betty, and Veronica as well. They were all incredibly kind people, and I was thankful that I at least had a few friends in this new town. Veronica and I had even bonded over the fresh “new kid” labels we wore. It was lunchtime, which meant I would be spending my time in the paper room working on an article for the blue and gold. After Jughead and Betty found out I like to write, they would subtly push me in to joining the paper with them. I gave in fairly quickly, writing was a passion of mine and it gave me something to work on. As I walked down the lunch line to get something to eat, a boy walked in to the lunch room with a big poster and a teddy bear. I watched as he walked up to the girl and asked her to homecoming before she screamed “yes!” and hugged him. The lunch room cheered and clapped before settling down and getting back to their food. I smiled a bit, thinking about the upcoming dance. A small part of me hoped that maybe Jughead would ask me, even to go just as a friend. I don’t get what the big deal is.” I jumped a bit and turned around to see Jughead standing beside me, his arms crossed and the corners of his lips tugged downwards in his infamous grim face. “Of course you wouldn’t, you’re Jughead.” Ronnie came strolling up behind him, Kevin and Betty following. “Is that a comment I should take offense to?” Jughead looked down at her, an eyebrow raised. “Probably, but you’re Jughead, so you won’t.” Ronnie shrugged her shoulders before engaging in a conversation with Kevin and Betty. “I just don’t get it, why would you subject yourself to that kind of public embarrassment? It’s a dance, just ask the person privately if they would like to go with you. Why show off and spend tons of money on elaborate gifts and publicly display it with the chance of getting rejected?” Jughead shook his head before turning to the line to pile his tray. I sighed, the re-occurring dream I had been having of Jughead and I at homecoming blowing up in my face. I paid for my lunch and made my way to the office for the blue and gold, not waiting for Jughead and Betty. When I got to the room, I set my lunch down beside me and grabbed my laptop from my bag, getting to work. Some interesting things had been discovered about Jason’s homicide, and I had talked to Sheriff Keller about some of it. Now I was working on the article, trying to piece my information together and make a decent article. Jughead and Betty walked in to the room, setting their bags down. Jughead went to the board immediately and grabbed some chalk, writing down some facts and bits of evidence we gathered, trying to piece it together while Betty helped him. After a few minutes, Jughead and Betty split up, Betty sitting on the desk and grabbing a notepad, and Jughead taking a seat by me. “You want this? I motioned towards my abandoned milk carton and pizza from the lunch room, not really as hungry as I thought I was. Jughead nodded silently and took the pizza, biting into it and opening his laptop. I tried not to focus on homecoming as the days of the week flew by. It was just a stupid dance. It would be stupid to upset myself with something as ridiculous as Jughead not asking me. Soon enough, it was Friday, and the dance was tomorrow and I was sat at Pop’s with Veronica and Betty hollering at me because I didn’t have a dress. “It’s just a dance guys. I’ll go in jeans and a T-shirt, or better yet, I’ll just stay home.” I argued, taking a sip of my tea. “Y/n, even Jughead is going! You can’t stay home!” Betty motioned to the boy sitting next to me, an incredulous look on her face. “I don’t even have a date, what’s the point?” “Nope, not acceptable.” Veronica stood up, grabbing my sleeve and lifted me from the booth. Betty and Jughead followed as she walked out the door with my shirt in her fist, dragging me behind her. “Where are we going?” Jughead called out to Veronica as him and Betty tried to catch up to the power-walking princess. “My house, we’re getting this kid a dress, and we’re hauling her to homecoming.” ——————————————– I had tried on dress after dress from Veronica’s closet, everything being too tight, too short, not my taste. Jughead sat on Ronnie’s bed, typing away on his laptop. “This just isn’t working Ronnie.” I sighed, going back in to her closet and changing out of the dress. “Just chillax, I’ve got one more thing that might work.” Ronnie opened the closet door and handed me a purple dress before closing the door. The top part was halter style, with a long silk skirt. I tried it on and walked out, showing my friends. “That’s it. That’s the one.” Ronnie clapped her hands together and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “It’s homecoming, not my wedding day.” “It’s really nice actually. Jughead, doesn’t she look nice?” Betty hit Jughead’s arm and he looked up, confused. “What-oh.” Jughead’s eyes widened when he looked at me, making me blush. “Y-yeah, you look…incredible.” Jughead complimented. “Alright, I’m gonna go take this off now.” I pointed a thumb towards the closet door, blushing furiously
Later that night, when Jughead walked me home, I tried to bring up the dance. “So, that dance is tomorrow… ” I trailed off, looking up at him. “Yeah, I’m just going because Betty wants me to cover it with you guys for the paper.” Jughead looked down at his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Oh, yeah, the paper.” Of course. “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Jughead spoke again when we made it to my front door. “Yeah, tomorrow.” I smiled. Jughead began to walk away and I froze at my door. Now was the time. “Hey! Jughead!” I called out. Jughead turned around, looking at me expectantly. “Maybe tomorrow we could…” I stopped. What was I doing? This was Jughead. He didn’t want a girlfriend, much less me as a girlfriend. If I asked him to homecoming it would ruin the strongest friendship I have in this town. “Uhm, you know what? Nevermind. Goodnight Jug.” I stepped in to my house quickly and ran up the stairs. I hung up my dress and called it a night. The next morning, Betty and I got ready together at my house, since she lived across the street from me. We danced along to some songs and had fun while we did each other’s makeup, and I tried not to think about how I chickened out last night. “Hey, Betts?” I looked up at my friend as she applied blush to the apples of my cheeks. “Yeah, y/n/n?” She met my gaze. “Have you ever backed out of something last minute and regretted it?” Betty gave me a confused look before setting the brush down. “Spill.” And I did. I told her all about my crush on Jughead, and how I wanted to ask him, and how I hoped maybe he would ask me, all while betty finished my makeup and sprayed my hair. “I’m sorry y/n, Jughead’s just kinda clueless. Hopefully he will come around soon enough. You guys would be adorabl- “Betty was cut off by the sound of her phone and she answered it. A grin appeared on her face almost immediately. “Yeah, we’ll be right down.” Betty ended the call and grabbed her purse, handing me mine and grabbing my wrist. “What?” She pulled me out of my room excitedly. “Archie and Veronica are here, and so is your date.” Betty hopped down the stairs with me trailing behind her and swung open my front door. There stood Jughead, a clear box with a corsage in one hand, and a sign in another, that said “Can this Moody Vampire be your date to the dance? “ I immediately laughed at our inside joke, unable to control the ends of my lips from tugging upwards as Jughead stood there in a full black suit, his grey beanie on his head. “I know it’s kind of last minute, I probably should have asked you sooner, but..” “You’re clueless sometimes.” I quickly glanced to Betty and she cupped a hand over her mouth to keep her laughter silent. “Yeah, I am.” Jughead chuckled, and I could see two fake vampire fangs sticking out.” I’m hoping I’m not too late?” “Of course not.” I teased, walking up to him. Archie took the sign from him and I saw Jughead was wearing a purple tie to match my dress. “You really didn’t have to do all of this.” I whispered to him. “That may be true, but- “Jughead pulled the purple and white corsage from the box, tucking the plastic container under his arm and lifting my wrist to tie on the flower.” It made you smile, so it was worth it.” I shook my head, grabbing his tie and pulling him down to meet my lips with his.
First Sid of many, feel free to send me requests :)
Word Count: 1,565
Mania. That’s the one word you’d use to explain the world you were living right about now. Even from down the hallway you could hear the cheers from the away team dressing room. There were people everywhere you looked, shoulders bumping with strangers who wore the same grin that you had on your face while you turned to walk into the dressing room.
The first one was fantastically gifted unto me, which was a lovely surprise and was worried it would be too tight, but was encouraged to get. The second I may go back and get when I have another paycheck. Went to the mall and checked out a lot of things, but of late Forever21 is really on the ball for my goth needs. Though there was a dress at Hot Topic I wish I tried on. My wallet thanked me.
“Jack, I’m gonna need your help.” Spot said quickly into the speaker of his cell phone.
“What is it now, Spot?” Jack asked, slightly annoyed. He was far past the point where Spot’s phone calls scared him, but they usually involved dragging his butt home after one too many beers or to scare away some nasty guys.
“Well you see,” how was he supposed to ask for this kind of help? Sure, he’s called Jack a couple of times to get him out of various situations but never for anything that actually mattered.
sooo, i wanted to write kahn-on-tumblr a birthday fic (happy birthday! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧) and i was like oh okay just like, a thousand words, yeah!! annnd motored straight past 1k and am well on my way to 2k with signs that it will go to 3 or 4. OOPS.
i give you competent-with-kids!tony de-aged!avengers with bonus tony&rhodey bffery
warnings: references to past child abuse, probably ableism (pls let me know if i mess up)
“So this happened,” Tony says when the rear hatch of the Quinjet lowers.
He’s in most of the Iron Man suit. The one piece that’s missing is the helmet, because it had scared Bruce.
Because he’s four years old.
All the Avengers are.
Tony’s holding four-year-old Steve on his left hip, his other five teammates hovering like ducklings around his legs. It had taken some coaxing to get them all to come with him, but eventually they’d accepted his half-assed explanations (and possibly the fact that there was no one else to take care of them). Sam had been the hardest to convince and Tony had finally wound up just telling him the truth—kid is shrewd for a four year old. He’d asked him for help taking care of the others and Sam had finally relented, nodding very seriously as he accepted his new duty.
“What,” Maria says.
“Oh, Jesus,” Rhodey sighs. “I’ll help.”
Tony grins. “That’s so generous of you, Sugar Plum.”
“Loki,” Fury growls, and sounds more resigned than annoyed.
“I want my ma,” little Steve mumbles, and bursts into tears.
Summary: Nico has never felt quite right– he’s always liked pretty things and he’s always been afraid to express himself. And Will wants to fix that.
Word Count: 1,989
Warnings: unsupportive parents/brief mention of homophobia.
Memories are always just a little on the blurry side.
When Nico looks back, he’s always surprised by what seems to be the most clear and what his brain decided to smudge out. He finds that, usually, whatever it was about that particular moment that made him feel something, that’s what appears to be the most distinct in his mind’s eye.
In the second grade, he’d fallen down a flight of stairs. When he thinks about it, he sees the tile rushing up to meet him, he feels his stomach drop, he remembers lying at the bottom on his back, gasping for breath and being so in shock that for several long seconds he could not even cry.
In the seventh, he’d stood in front of one of his best friends, his hands shaking and his heart thudding like a death march, and had told him about his crush, that he liked him. He remembers watching the smile slip from his friend’s face, he remembers him taking a slow step backward. He does not remember if the other boy had uttered anything at all, but he remembers the feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach, he remembers the expression on his friend’s face.
And when he was much, much younger, before he’d even gotten past preschool, he’d sat on the bathroom sink in one of his sister’s dresses, and she’d told him, her voice deathly serious, that he had to keep absolutely still or else this wouldn’t work. But with a makeup brush dusting over his cheeks, Nico had found this nearly impossible; he’d giggled the entire time and stuck his tongue out when Bianca chided him.
Nico doesn’t remember what he’d looked like afterward, but he can only assume that it had been something akin to a clown. Bianca was, after all, only a year older than him. He seriously doubts that she’d known how to correctly apply an eighth of the stuff she was playing with.
He does, however, recall that they’d been having a pretend tea party in her room later and their father had come home to find them. He remembers jumping up and running to greet him just like he always did. And he remembers the horrified look on his father’s face, remembers him demanding that he take a bath immediately and get rid of the stuff and he remembers coming back later to find that Bianca’s cheeks were stained with tears and her telling him that they could not play dress-up anymore.
And he remembers being confused and sad. Feeling just a bit hollow because he hadn’t known what he’d done wrong.
Just a few weeks later, he’d snuck into Bianca’s room and pulled out the dress. And then he’d hauled himself up onto the bathroom sink and covered himself in his mother’s old makeup (she’d died before he was born and now Nico thinks that maybe that was why his father was so harsh), made faces and laughed at himself in the mirror. He remembers most clearly, his father looking at his older sister and uttering defeatedly, “Look what you’ve done to him.”
And it’s not just that, he thinks that maybe he could have looked past the disdain of his father if everyone else were not the same. If he didn’t get made fun of at school for playing with girl’s toys or if he hadn’t gotten strange looks at daycare when he’d delved into the girl’s dress-ups.
So, that’s what he’s thinking about, standing in the middle of JC Penny’s and staring down at a short red dress. Because he still likes pretty things. He always has. For twenty-two years, he’s adorned himself in all black–just plain t-shirts and jeans and tennis shoes–and stood in front of his bedroom mirror, never feeling quite like himself, never being confident in his appearance, and trudged out into the world despite it. Feeling sick and wrong and hating who he is. (He’s already gay, he can’t let his father down another time.)
He jumps and whips around so fast that he’s just a bit dizzy. It takes his eyes a few seconds to fully focus on Will’s features. He’s grinning, his head tilted to the side just slightly and his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans.
Nico’s cheeks are burning. “Oh, this?” He lifts the dress in a way that’s too jerky and stiff to be casual. He’s fighting to keep his voice level. He’s not very sure at all that he’s being even remotely successful. “I was… just wondering if Bianca might like this. You know, for Christmas.”
Will’s eyebrows dart upward, “Oh? Well, yeah… I think that she would.” There’s something in his expression. It’s too tight. Nico is almost certain that Will doesn’t believe him, that somewhere deep inside, he’s just as disgusted as his father had been all of those years ago.
He just gives him a forced smile and declares that he’ll buy it for her, then. Will doesn’t make any further comments. It’s only when they get back to their apartment that Nico realizes that the dress might not even be Bianca’s size.
Three weeks later, they’re sitting in their living room and Bianca is opening the gift. And she does love it, practically tackling Nico in a hug and declaring that he’s always had better fashion sense than anyone she knows. And Nico is smiling, but Will knows him, and he sees that it’s just a little bit forced, that he looks away quickly at Bianca’s compliment and his jaw tightens just the slightest bit. That he looks just a little bit sad, maybe even wistful.
So, when the party has ended and everyone has cleared out, Will tells him to sit back down on the couch and then carries out a white clothing box and sits down next to him, braces his hands down on it and lets out a nervous breath. “This is your actual gift, but I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone because I… Well, I didn’t want to embarrass you and I’m… I’m still not even sure if I’m right about this whole thing.”
He meets Nico’s gaze. It’s troubled, he looks just as nervous as Will feels, but pulls the box from Will’s lap onto his own and slowly lifts the lid off, places it to the side. He just stares for a moment, and then reaches in, like he almost doesn’t believe it, and lifts the clothes out one by one.
First, an over-sized sweater. Cream-colored and delicately crocheted.
Second, a floral-print pencil dress with shoulderless sleeves.
Next, pastel pink skinny jeans.
And last, a simple, loose, dark gray t-shirt with maroon stripes.
Nico just sits, clutching the garments in his hands, and stares for what seems like hours.
Will’s hands are clamped together, his brows tied in a tight knot. “We can take them back… I… I just saw how you were looking at that dress the other day, Nico. And I’ve seen you look at things like that before and I just thought– but you don’t have to take them.”
When he finally looks up, Will realizes that he’s crying.
“Will, I love them.” His voice is shaky and waterlogged. When he finishes speaking, he sobs quietly, clutches the clothes tighter to his chest.
Will reaches out and urges him forward until Nico is snuggled into him, his head resting on his shoulder, and wraps his arms around him, presses his face into his hair. “What’s wrong, Nico?”
Nico laughs shakily, “Nothing. Nothing at all. I just–” He pauses to sniffle and gasp, press his face into Will’s soft shirt, “No one has ever… No one has ever told me that this is okay.”
“Of course, it’s okay, Nico. You can wear whatever you want. Be whoever you want to be. I just want you to be happy and if this is what is going to make you happy then you can sure as hell bet that I’ll be here to back you up.” He’s grinning, Nico can feel it against his scalp, and it makes him smile too.
“Thank you,” Nico whispers. It’s so quiet, almost reverent. Will has to take a few seconds to just close his eyes and breathe. Just push his fingers through Nico’s hair and listen to his shaky breaths and know that he loves him.
After several long, drawn-out moments, Will pulls back slowly and gently lifts Nico’s chin. “Do you think you’re trans? Because that’s okay too.”
Nico smiles at him, laughs because he’s relieved and elated and he can’t believe that he got someone this good to love him so much. “No. No, I just… I like pretty things.” He blushes and looks away, bites his lip.
Will grins, “Well, that’s fitting.”
Nico’s brows draw together and his lips twitch, “Why?”
“Because you’re pretty.” Will cups his face in his hands, brushes his lips over Nico’s nose and then his chin, “You’re beautiful.”
Nico is just staring now. Openly, blatantly staring. “You really think so?”
“God, yes.” He says it like he can’t understand why Nico doesn’t believe him, like it’s completely obvious and truer than daylight or wind or love itself. It makes Nico’s heart break. So he leans forward and pushes their lips together, drags Will as near to him as he can possibly be, and kisses him until they’re both a little breathless.
Will pulls away first, just so that he can nudge their noses together and murmur, “You should try them on for me.”
Nico grins and jumps up, runs off to the bathroom without any further prompting. Will can’t stop smiling, he’s never seen him this content. (And he did that, it’s the best feeling in the world.)
Nico comes out a few minutes later, having pulled on the sweater and the pants. He has his arms wrapped around himself, is almost caving inwards. He looks nervous, hopefull, biting his lip and giving Will a hesitant smile.
Will is gawking. He pushes himself up off the couch slowly and walks forward, his eyes sweeping over Nico’s form. The sweater is slipping off one of his shoulders (revealing the clear-cut and delicate line of his collarbone) and he’s made sweater paws, so Will is a little more than slightly enamored with him.
Will reaches him and takes hold of his arms gently, pulls them around himself and slips one of his own arms around Nico’s waist, cups his jaw with his other hand. Just stands and looks at him.
“Do I look okay?” Nico says. Breathlessly, like Will’s answer will change everything. And, maybe, in some ways, it would.
Will laughs, “Are you kidding?” He kisses him, soft and sweet, because he feels like he needs to. And then he trails a few more down his jaw, drops one on his neck and then two or three on his exposed shoulder, just because he can. Buries his face in the crook of Nico’s neck and holds him close, “You look fantastic.”
“I don’t think I’ll wear them in public just yet… I… I’m not ready for that but…”
Will nods–more nuzzzles against his skin–and starts tracing patterns into his shoulder blades, “Okay. Maybe… Maybe we could work up to it? You could get… like, just little things: bracelets and rings and such… Maybe even some light makeup if you want. You know, so that you feel more confident and comfortable but people won’t notice as much and then later…”
Nico feels like he might start crying again, so he just fists his hands in the fabric at the small of Will’s back and presses his face into his neck, breathes in his scent. “I love you so much, Will Solace.”
Will is getting distracted again, pressing affectionate kisses onto the side of his neck, “I love you too…”