#waking up every day feeling like you’re gonna die soon isn’t slay

[onlyhams]

unfortunately I suspect that the one sure fire way to make one’s health anxiety prophecies come true is to not get something checked out 💕

#I’m lucky enough to have insurance through my work and I have yet to get some issues checked out or get a PCP #but I’m so anxious #waking up every day feeling like you’re gonna die soon isn’t slay #health tw #anxiety tw #health anxiety #health anxiety tw

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Virago 03. Nobody’s Safe

Summary: Y/N was sent to the ground after spending five years in the Skybox for stealing medical supplies and murder. How will she deal with her new environment and learn to survive on earth? Will she crack under the pressure of becoming a leader of the 100 or will she embrace it. 

Post Date: 05.08.20

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Based off: 01x03 “Earth Kills”

Masterlist

Some kid comes running up to us, “Trina and Pascal are missing,” Bellamy just sighs, gets up, and walks off. You follow along. He finds his way to Atom and a couple of other kids and tells them to go looking for them.

As Bellamy and Murphy have some brotherly bonding time throwing knives and stuff you see what there is to do around camp. You find mostly everyone setting up tents and building a wall to keep the grounders out. 

You go over to Octavia who is holding a tarp, “Hey, need help?” You ask her.

“Hey. Yeh just setting my tent up. If you could just help me drape it over that’d be great.” She responds as you grab the other side of the trap and walk to the other side of the frame. You two soon find out that the tarp is too small to cover the entire frame. 

“Ugh, this is the third one I’ve tried. I’m gonna go see if I can find a bigger one,” She says as she walks towards the dropship. You wait for her to come out, but a few minutes have passed so you go see what she’s up to.

You find Octavia talking to Atom before she storms out and you follow, “What happened?” You ask Octavia.

“Bellamy did,” She says sternly. We make our way to the tent where Bellamy and Murphy were. We walk into them talking about something, probably about hunting.

“What did you do to Atom?” Octavia questions her brother. He gestures for Murphy and you to leave but you just wait by the entrance. Octavia turns around and nods her head to tell you everything fine. You can hear Octavia’s muffled voice questioning her brother until she runs out of the tent after hearing  Jaspers pained moans.

You follow her into the Dropship and up to the next floor where you find Wells, Clarke, Finn, and Monty looking at Jasper, “Stop it! You’re killing him!” Octavia rushes over to Jasper.

“She’s trying to save his life.” Finn rebuttals.

“She can’t,” Bellamy says walking in, you look over at him and shake your head as Wells says something.

“We didn’t drag him through miles of woods just to let him die” You sigh.

“Kids a goner. If you can’t see that, you’re deluded. He’s making people crazy.” Bellamy replies.

“Sorry if Jasper’s an inconvenience to you, but this isn’t the Ark. Down here, every life matters,” Clarke sternly states.

“Take a look at him. He’s a lost cause.” 

“Just because you believe that, doesn’t mean that it isn’t worth trying to save him. We need every person to survive down here.” You state.

“Octavia, I’ve spent my whole life watching my mother heal people. If I say there’s hope, there’s hope.” Clarke says turning to Octavia whose looking at Jasper with a concerned look.

“This isn’t about hope, its about guts. You don’t have the guts to make the hard choices. I do. He’s been like this for three days. If he’s not better by tomorrow, I’ll kill him myself. Octavia, Y/N, let’s go.” Bellamy says about to leave.

“I’m staying here,” Octavia says not taking her eyes off Jasper. Bellamy looks at you expectantly before heading down the ladder.

“Power-hungry, self-serving jackass. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. No offense” Monty says looking over to Octavia, who just shrugs it off. 

“I’ll talk to him, just give me some time,” You say before heading down the ladder.

You walk around camp looking for him, you find him in the tent he was in earlier with Murphy again, “So, when do we leave,” You ask walking into the tent.

“We? Who said anything about you coming.” Murphy questions.

“Well I for one,” You take the knife out of Murphy’s hand, “Am good with a knife, so what’s so different about a spear?” You say throwing the knife right at the base of Murphy’s foot.

“You missed,” Murphy says blankly, but you just give a smug look back.

“I said she can come, she is good with a knife,” Bellamy butts in.

Once everyone is gathered for the hunting party you all head out of the camp. You guys all walk for a little while, “You know you don’t need to be so hard on Octavia,” You say turning to Bellamy whose walking right beside you.

“She’s my little sister. I have to do what I need to protect her,” 

“From what I can see, she can protect herself. Just ease up, okay? Or at least try.” 

We then hear a boar oinking in the distance, Bellamy signals for the other guys to surround it. We make our way closer to the boar, “Shh-shh-shh-shh. She’s mine,” Bellamy says inching closer to the boar. All of a sudden a twig snaps behind us and Bellamy launches his ax into a tree behind us. The boar is scared off and the rest of the party runs after it. Bellamy goes to find where he threw his ax to, as you follow.

You find a young girl standing next to the tree Bellamy’s ax landed in, “Who the hell are you?” He questions her.

“Charlotte,” She says standing as stiff as the tree beside her.

“I almost killed you,” Bellamy says grabbing his ax.

“Why aren’t you at camp?” You question her walking up next to Bellamy.

“Well, what with that guy who was dying, I just- I couldn’t listen anymore.” She replies.

“There’s grounders out here. It’s too dangerous for a little girl,” Atom says from behind you and Bellamy.

“I’m not little,”

“Ok, then. But you can’t hunt without a weapon,” Bellamy smiles and hands her a knife. “Ever killed something before?” Bellamy asks and Charlotte shakes her head. 

“Who knows? Maybe you’re good at it.” Bellamy says, looking over at me and walks away with Atom.

“Come on,” You say and gesture her to follow.

You and the hunting party continue to walk through the forest but with no animal in sight. You then hear a loud bellowing horn and look to your right to see some yellow looking fog creeping towards you. You reach your hand out and when the fog reaches your hand, it starts to burn and you pull away screaming in pain. 

“Run!” You yell before pushing Charlotte away from the fog.

Everyone from the hunting group starts to run, “Come on! There are caves this way.” Bellamy says in front of you and Charlotte. 

You and Charlotte run along with Bellamy, she reaches for his hand and he pulls her along. He looks back at you to make sure you’re still there. Bellamy and Charlotte round a corner, he pushes her into the cave and then reaches for your hand and pulls you in. 

You stumble to the ground not expecting to be pulled with such force. You can hear Atom yelling Bellamy’s name but the fog becomes too overwhelming, so he makes his way into the cave. 

“You okay?” Bellamy says looking between you and Charlotte. Charlotte just nods and sits down on a small ledge. 

“Y/N?” Bellamy sits next to you. 

“Just another small scratch,” You say looking at your hand, which is red and has some blistering burns on it. 

“We should have Clarke look at that when we get back,” Bellamy takes your hand into his. You pull back and hiss as he rubs his fingers over the burns. You get up and check on Charlotte.

“Hey, it looks like we won’t be getting out of here soon. Why don’t you get some rest.” You say and take your jacket off so she can use it as a blanket. She nods her head and you lay your jacket over her lap as she gets as comfortable as she can be.

You lean up against the wall beside her and try to fall asleep. You feel something laid on top of you and open your eyes to find Bellamy hovering over you and smiles. You continue to try to fall asleep until you hear Charlotte let out a scream “No!”

“Charlotte, wake up,” Bellamy says and gets up.

“I’m sorry,” She says softly.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” You say taking her hand.

“Does it happen often?” Bellamy asks. Charlotte only sighs in response. “What are you scared of? You know what? It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is what you do about it.” He says.

“But...I’m asleep.” 

“Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you’re awake, they won’t be there to get you when you sleep.” 

“Yeah, but… How?”

“You can’t afford to be weak. Down here, weakness is death, fear is death. Let me see that knife I gave you.” He says as Charlotte hands him the knife.

Bellamy takes the knife in hand, “Now when you feel afraid, you hold tight to that knife and you say, ‘Screw you, I’m not afraid’” And hands Charlotte the knife back. She repeats Bellamy’s words a few times. 

“Slay your demons, kids. Then you’ll be able to sleep.” Bellamy says and looks over to you and taking notice of your smile. He mouths to you “what” and you mouth back “nothing” and go back to sleep.

The next morning you find yourself laying close to Bellamy who clearly had been awake for a while. You shift and see Bellamy looking down at you, “Yes?” You ask scooting away from him. 

“Sorry, Just thought I shouldn’t wake you.” He says and gets up.

“Ok…..Well, we should get going. I’ll wake Charlotte up.” You say and hand him his jacket back. 

You walk over to Charlotte, “Hey, it’s time to go.” You say and slightly shake her.

She gets up and hands you your jacket. You walk out of the cave and find that there is no more fog, “Anybody out here? Jones?” Bellamy yells scanning the forest. We hear someone to our right and make our way over to them. 

“Lost you in the stew. Where’d you go?” Bellamy asks the three guys as we meet up.

“Made it to a cave down there, The hell was that?” Jones says.

“From the looks of my hand, maybe some kind of toxic fog?” You say and show them your hand.

“Where’s Atom?” Bellamy asks them. Jones just shakes his head no.

You and the rest of the guys split up to go looking for Atom. You told Charlotte to stay close to you but she disappears. You go looking for her until you hear a scream in the distance. You and Bellamy make your way over and find Charlotte staring at a red and boiled skinned Atom laying on the ground. “Son of a bitch. Atom.” Bellamy says and rushes to Atom.

You stay with Charlotte as Bellamy examines Atom. The rest of the group finds their way over to you guys and Charlotte gets closer to Atom and you follow. You can hear Atom struggling to breathe, Charlotte slips Bellamy her knife.

“Don’t be afraid,” Charlotte says quietly. Bellamy tells the others to make their way to camp, leaving him, you, and Atom. “You should as well Y/N.” You just shake your head and stand your ground. You kneel down to Atom next to Bellamy and listen as he begs Bellamy to kill him. You couldn’t help but notice the struggle Bellamy was having. 

You turn your head and see Clarke standing behind you guys. She makes her way to the other side of Atom, “I heard screams.” 

“Charlotte found him. I sent her back to camp.” Bellamy says. Clarke continues to examine Atom and shakes her head signifying that he won’t make it. Bellamy understands and nods.

“Okay. I’m gonna help you, all right?” Clarke says looking at Atom. She starts to hum a song. You notice Clarke’s hand make its way to the knife in Bellamy’s hand. You put your hand in front of hers, she looks up at you. Instead of letting her take the knife, you take it yourself. Clarke continues to hum and you slowly put the knife into the side of Atom’s neck and he dies. You put your hand on top of Bellamy’s and look at him. 

You wrap up Atom’s body with Clarke as Bellamy takes a moment, “Hey, I noticed the burns on your hand. I can take care of that back at camp,” Clarke says to you.

“Oh, thanks. That’d be great.” 

You, Finn, Wells, Clarke, and Bellamy all make your way back to camp. By the time you’re back, its night. You, Clarke and Finn, make your way to the Dropship, “It’s about time. They’re about to kill Jasper. Did you get the medicine?” Octavia says making her way out of the Dropship.

“Yeah, I...I got it. Come on. Let’s go talk.” Clarke says and tries to turn her away from Atom’s body. Octavia doesn’t follow and makes her way over to Bellamy and Atom’s body.

“Octavia, just stay there. Please, stay back.” Bellamy says holding her back. She continues to struggle against Bellamy’s grip before Bellamy just lets her through.

“There’s nothing I could do,” Bellamy tells Octavia.

“Don’t” She responds clearly upset.

“O...O..please,” Bellamy tries to get her attention but she just walks past him. 

Bellamy and Murphy break into a fight when Murphy calls Octavia Bellamy’s “psycho sister”, you try to break it up but it didn’t work. After Bellamy walks away, you go to find him.

“Hey, you alright?” You ask Bellamy, who you find sitting on the outskirts of the camp.

“Yeh,” He quietly responds while playing with a stick.

“You just need to give O some time. I’ll try to talk to her so she’ll know what really happened.” 

“No, it’s ok. She’ll calm down, I don’t want you to be getting in the middle of our sibling fight.” 

You two sit in silence for a while, until Bellamy takes your hand in his, “Thank you. For today,”

“For what?” 

“For taking care of Charlotte. Handling Atom. Even trying to handle Murphy,” He says, his voice getting quieter as he continued to list the things he thanks you for.

“It’s really no big deal. I mean you’re really the one who took care of Charlotte and Murphy needs to be taught a lesson somehow. I’m still figuring that one out though,” You chuckle lightly. 

You guys sit in silence for a little longer, “Well, I’m gonna see if I can get some medicine for my burn before Clarke goes to sleep. Don’t stay out here too long alright? See you in the morning.” You smile and squeeze his hand before walking towards the camp. 

You make your way into the Dropship and up the ladder. You get to the top as soon as Jasper wakes up, “Can I, uh, get a hit of that?” He says gesturing to the alcohol that Finn has in his hand. You, Finn, Monty, and Octavia rush over to Jasper to check on him.

“Let’s start with the soft stuff,” Finn says grabbing some water and giving it to Jasper. “Welcome back, buddy.”

“Was that a dream or did I get speared?” Jasper questions with his raspy voice.

“You’ll have a very impressive scar to prove it,” Clarke says as she makes her way over to Jasper from the ladder.

“My savior.”

“Thank you for not dying. I don’t think I could’ve taken that today,” Clarke says relieved.

“I’ll try not to die tomorrow, too. If that’s cool. Oh, hello.” Jasper responds and takes notice of Octavia off to his right.

You pull Clarke off to the side, “Hey, do you think I could possibly get something to help this?” You ask her and pull up your hand to reveal the burns.

She examines your hand for a little, “Yeh, lets clean it up first. I have some seaweed leftover and we can try and put some of that on top.” She says, grabs the seaweed, and makes her way down the ladder. 

You follow her outside and lead her into your tent. She cleans your wound and makes a poultice out of the seaweed. She presses it on, “Keep this on for 20 minutes. I can make a fresh one in the morning if you need it.” She explains.

“Thank you,” You smile as she packs up. Octavia walks into your tent, “Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to Y/N,” she says.

“I was just about to leave, shes all yours,” Clarke walks out of your tent. 

“What’s up O?” You ask and scoot over to make room for her to sit.

“I...I just can’t get out of my head of what happened to Atom. I want to believe it wasn’t my brother’s fault, but I can’t help but think it was.” She explains.

“I can assure you it wasn’t. That acid fog or whatever burns your skin on contact and it hurts a lot. “ You show her your hand. “If Bellamy could, he would’ve gone and saved Atom, I know it. The fog just got too thick to go into without dying yourself. I even would’ve tried if I could.  We need every person down here to survive sometimes we just can’t afford to be the hero,” You tell her.

Octavia sighs, “Thank you. I think. I’m still mad at Bell but this makes me feel a little bit better.”

“Bellamy told me not to get between you two. I promised I won’t but if you ever need me to talk to him or you need to talk to me, I’m always available.”

“No, he’s right. We shouldn’t bring you in but thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.” She gets up and leaves your tent.

A/N : Hey guys! I’m finally done with school and will be able to push out parts from now on. Thank you for waiting so patiently. I hope you guys enjoy this part. I actually enjoyed writing the last section between Y/N and the Blake siblings. I’m trying to make Octavia and Y/N really close (almost like sisters). I believe I’ll be posting parts every Friday (haven’t fully decided yet) so be on the lookout. Stay safe guys! 

(lmk if you want to be added) Taglist: @im-a-writer-right​

#The 100 #the 100 series #the 100 imagine #the 100 x reader #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake #octavia blake #wells jaha #clarke griffin #john murphy #monty green #jasper jordan #Finn Collins #100virago

[chosenmindset]

ChosenMindset - The Passion Of The Flame Inside Of Me - by Vlad G

1.Good heart living in toxic parts

2.Emotions caused by fear

3.Hell’s cycle

4.Depression killed the kid

5.Mentality of a lion

6. Inner piece of a lion

7.A message for your mindset

Good heart living in toxic parts

The inner rage of a child is one that is developed from birth.. A sense of hate that is fed by the toxic parts of earth. Growing up in poverty I couldn’t tell the difference between fun and dumb, gum and rum, and my fam did their best to keep me away from drugs and guns. Being the oldest son got me feeling like I am the chosen one because my older sisters born before me have put the pressure on me like I am the only one. As a child I was only trying to survive the cold and chase the cool, be like Simba from lion king and be a leader who rules. What is the cool? As I got older I seen why drugs were boomed, Children were doomed and making it out of the struggle was hope we knew wasn’t coming soon. Now the question is what is self? Why must I go to a therapist to learn about me and he just getting paid to learn about you. It is hard to understand us humans and we will forever be confused. We all got a fuse and the wrong spark will blow you up but the right spark may light you up so you can shine like a star. The goal is to be on top and higher than the clouds that used to bully us with it’s pouring rain.. And I hope one day I can conquer this pain.. or you can say this flame..

Emotions caused by fear

Having to put my ego at check because this year I pushed really hard to hit my peak. Breakdown after breakdown I can see myself dying inside, not able to let go of the pain and feeling caged in my head and wanting to escape outside. Being stumped trying to find my purpose in a head that is as crazy as a circus.Trying to avoid being alone in my head by going wild with different women in my bed.  Is lust really a cure for loneliness ? Maybe at the moment but I know for sure it isn’t permanent. It may numb the pain but that will never go away. Probably damaging your spirit the more bodies you try to slay. I want peace and love to stay but it’s axed by the feeling of fear I develop by them racing thoughts I get everyday. Hitting 100 on the dash because it’s a fast life and I’m not afraid to die, and if I’m pulled over I’ll just be cussing out the police like I am daring them to put a bullet in my eye. Exploding in city daring a nigga to kill me, when all I want is somebody to hear me. Comfort the tears from the trauma that I’ve had to deal with on my own. The sadness, madness, and feeling of self destruct left me stuck. I want to feel at peace and have these memories fade away but I know I want to keep the good ones but flashing back on them have been overshadowed by the bad times and it makes me scared of life because I feel like I’ve been living in a nightmare the whole time.. Young trying to hit my prime in a land where they won’t let you shine. I must wake up and face reality and find my peace and maintain that mentality.

Hell’s Cycle

He got to a point where that rage has took over him. Demons control him and the person he thought he would become is nothing more but the worst version of him. At this point he has convinced himself that he’s crazy and nothing but a madman and no matter what anybody tells him, he remains a sad man and them pills ain’t working so he out here moving like a zombie who is depressed feeling like he has no motive or purpose.. gotten himself in his own hell, his own jail, and nobody can bail him out cause it’s only him who can figure out how to get out of there. With this depression and being in a society where his skin color has him feel the severe oppression.. It should be his mission to recover and his desire to get better, but he got caught up in his own ways, doing those drugs that made him feel good back in the old days and now he has dug himself in a deeper hole and his mind has wandered away. Lost soul becoming helpless… stuck in the institution where he won’t get any real help cause everybody is selfish. Family trying to fix him but he see there is nothing wrong but he start to cry cause he don’t feel like he belong. A weak man who can’t even enjoy the small pleasures of listening to his favorite song or eating his favorite food. I want to help him.. Tell him he needs to get out of there and find his faith..  I can’t reach him though he’s stuck in hell’s cycle.. Nothing I can do but pray and hope somebody give him a bible.

Depression killed the kid

He was walking one day thinking about his life and how he has failed.. then he started to realize he was starting to feel old and frail.. Living day to day hoping one day that things will change overnight. Scared to take a leap of faith he just wasn’t feeling right. As he started to realize he had no love in his life he started thinking about taking flight.. The leap of death. This is the end.. Hoping if he dies that God will forgive him for all his sins. Contemplating this decision he starts to take shots of gin.. Reminiscing over his life the crying then starts to begin. He wants to end it all because he doesn't ever believe he will win.. Battling them demons inside they forever have been convincing him.. He has made the decision that his life is not valuable and this is the end. He gets to the bridge he takes the leap and before he hits the ground he opens his eyes to take a peak and right then and there he wakes up with the bottle of gin next to him and realize that the decision to end his life wasn’t meant for him.

The mentality of a lion

You ever have a bad day a sad day and a type of day that make you want to go on a mad craze. Shit wild how you get back to back bad news and you can’t even gather your emotions to stay cool. Gotta be resilient or else that anger will consume you. Being in a state of mind where you can fuck up and you want to give up, fighting your emotions inside got you taking punches to your gut, and you need to clear your mind because those messages just torn you up. Close your eyes and wait… just know this feeling you have is not here to stay and that it is all temporary and it will go away.. You got a mentality to be great, fuck the negativity and the hate.. Don’t let these people or them situations control your fate. Be patient you gonna get that smile back..You gonna see those toxic emotions can’t hold you back. I know it’s hard but don’t ever forget your worst day means the next day has to be better. Remember cloudy rainy days is only temporary weather. Now keep moving and continue this journey on your path because the road to peace is within yourself and only you can put out the flame to your wrath..

The inner piece of a lion

To understand my pain is to understand my brain, I don’t feel pain anymore and I don’t see love the same way I used to. I love my people but I hate the system that has tricked them into believing the Lord is our enemy and that we must remove him to bring equality. Equality isn’t a  realistic goal and equity should be the real change we should be chasing for. I am a speaker for minds like mines, minds that care and minds that doesn’t want to be scared. The loss of someone is a pain that can be hidden until you truly understand the meaning and by that point it is too late to try and control it, you are in tears , you are in pain, and you can’t stop that mental pain in your brain. Life has now become meaningless and now you want to give up, but that is not the purpose for you… your suppose to continue the fight and beat the system, beat the numbers they use to define you, use your creative insight on the world to create change. There is no such thing is I can’t because you’ve been created by a God who has given you all the power in the world to show you can. The journey to peace and happiness starts with yourself and once you open your eyes and wake up from the nightmare you will begin to see what is destined for you. As for me , I’ve gotten my peace a long time ago and I’ve found my happiness recently, now my purpose in life is to maintain both and continue to motivate others to find their own destiny.

A message for your mindset

I’ve realized that humanity doesn’t care about your sanity and most people only care about their own vanity. Still being controlled by what hollywood, society, and media throws at us, they control your perspective and the pop culture that’s suppose to distract you from all of this has influenced you to be drugged out by the new heroin in a pill and when you overdose the doctors prescribe you a medication that has the same side effects but with a psychosis that makes you depressed so you won’t get the same thrill. We are in the age of anxiety and we are starting to feel the illnesses of our ancestors, but being more conscious and aware, looking in the mirror not recognizing who you are no matter how long you stare, with God’s throne being dethroned we are in need of more blessings in the air. We lack empathy with others and so when you're hurt I can’t even cry with you because as a man I’ve been taught crying is weak so I can’t be vulnerable with you. Conquering my own fears so I can’t help you with yours but I can tell you it is easier to accept your flaws and not look at yourself as your own enemy. As difficult as loving yourself may be it is the best remedy. Clear the head and rid of the toxins trying to kill you and stop your progression. Being ill isn’t your fault and learning how to take care of yourself is the best lesson. Gotta keep fighting even if you don’t think you have anything left and you need to keep living and try to enjoy every last breath. The passion of the flame only has the desire to burn you down so create your own wave so you can cool down..

- Written by Vladimir Gaetan between the times of June - September in the summer of 2017.

© 2018 Vladimir Gaetan

#Poetry #Writing #Concept #About #Life #Innerpeace #Peace #Rage #Conquering #Overcoming #Depression #Suicide #Anxiety #Negativity #Looking to #Inspire #More Self love #Motivation #To put out #The flame #That is trying to burn you down #Have #Faith #Trust #Love #Devlop your own #Chosenmindset

[fxngsfxgarty]

youth, ever fading youth

so I wrote my first ever riverdale fic. it’s about nonbinary/trans jughead, obviously.

Jughead Jones has been Jughead Jones, or some similar variation on the name, for as long as they can remember knowing how to talk.

Also on AO3 here.

Jughead Jones has been Jughead Jones, or some similar variation on the name, for as long as they can remember knowing how to talk.

At seven, they are JJ. Elementary school for JJ seems to be a constant loop of days where the teacher would say “Florence” on roll call, and they’d say “JJ, Ma’am,” and expect the mistake to be corrected. The teachers always seem to ask “JJ? How does JJ come from Florence?” and JJ just says “It came from my head, Ma’am.”

And that has to be an acceptable answer. For a seven year old, there isn’t another one. Because when you’re seven, if something is in your head then it has to be real. Everything you’ve imagined or dreamed up in your life up to that point is met with adults saying “really? Is that right? What happened to you after that?” even if it’s just you in your pajamas with sleepy eyes and tousled curls, talking about hearing Father Christmas and the reindeer on the roof of the trailer in the night, or telling your Mom and Dad that you and your sister fought a dragon when they sent you out to play.

You win the fight, of course. You and your sister always slay the dragons when you’re together.

When eleven rolls around, the adults stop believing so much in the stories and spells you dream up. Jay is in middle school and their mom doesn’t drive them to the gates any more. Mom takes Jellybean to elementary and leaves them to take the bus with the bigger kids. The older kids think it’s fun to snatch hats and toss them around, and it becomes routine for Jay to not unwrap the granola bar Mom leaves them on the counter until they’re safely sitting down, because it ends up on the ground in the aisle more than once, trodden into the mud-stains and footprints and crumbled into oaty dust. The hat ends up back on Jay’s head by the end of the ride most days, and if it doesn’t, it’s in the lost property box by the end of the day and they get a lecture from the receptionist about taking care of their belongings.

“Your parents don’t buy you things for you to lose them,” she says, and doesn’t pay attention when Jay says that the kids on the bus take it and play catch every morning. “You should be careful about the tales you tell on others, Florence. Making up stories won’t do you any good as you get older. It’s time to leave the fairy tales to the younger ones.”

Jay’s sister is still one of the younger ones, and at night, they hide under the blanket together with a torch and a big hardback book of stories about frogs and peas and princesses, and Jay reads in one of Jellybean’s ears and covers the other with a small hand, nails bitten almost down to the quick. Jellybean’s silky dark hair is soft beneath their touch, not yet curling like Jay’s does. Jay wonders whether, if they’d stayed young forever, they wouldn’t have had to do this. Because outside the safety of the blanket cocoon, Dad is drunk and Mom is crying, “get out, get away from me and my kids,” and Dad spits back with “you get out”, except laden with cuss words that kids aren’t allowed to say, and Mom says “maybe I will, FP, maybe I will.”

Jughead is almost fourteen when the sex ed classes come true, the ones where the teachers split the class up, “boys on the left line, girls on the right” and Jughead almost hesitated before following the girls’ line, because they always got grouped with them and their long hair and glossy lips and eyelashes painted in black gunk from pink and green tubes that only flakes off when you rub your eyes, even though it makes them itch and then you look like you’ve been crying. Jughead wants to cry at the stains they don’t know how to get out, at the pain clawing low in their stomach, at the apparent confirmation that they’ve been one of those girls all along. Because by now, by nearly fourteen, they know they don’t want to be, they’ve never been, despite the name on all the roll calls and the ugly, defiant F on official papers and test results where something else should be. They almost shout out into the small trailer for Mom, but then, Mom isn’t here. Mom is gone, and so is Jellybean. This is Jughead and Dad, and Dad isn’t here right now. Dad’s hanging out in the bar with the other guys with snake tattoos and motorcycles, so Jughead may just be on their own.

They’re still on their own at one in the morning, sitting in the shower tray, but the water ran cold a while ago so they turned it off and stayed sitting there in their wet clothes, shaking, not from the cold or the pain but with fear, with silent tears because all the sobbing seems to have faded away. Perhaps the noise has trickled down the drain with the icy water, and perhaps if they could hold a hand steady, they’d be able to peel off their skin and send it away with all the other parts they didn’t need. Maybe then everyone would see Jughead, as the person they see themself, not what someone’s always trying to tell them they are. The thought makes it tempting to break that skin apart, to see what it’s hiding underneath. To see if things can really get any worse than this.

Jug is seventeen and skinnier than ever, wears a snake-embroidered jacket and endless faded, ancient bracelets, from festivals in days gone by, bought on eBay or found in FP’s closet when they tried to clean it out with him, adorning their arms. The bracelets are good at hiding their skin when the jacket doesn’t, and if they can hide their skin from themself, they can almost believe it isn’t there at all. The leather jacket and the hat they still wear, jaw-length curls dyed inkier than ever and mostly shoved up inside it, make a sort of second skin, and if they feel like the snake, due to shed any moment, at least other people don’t know they feel that way. Other people see the snake, see danger and venom and most of them stay away. It feels good, to feel like they’re making an impact, but by god, in a crowded room that falls silent when you first walk in, before everyone picks up their conversation in groups and pairs again, it feels lonelier than they’ve perhaps ever been.

When Jug is seventeen, they meet Archie at a basement party (Kevin insists it’s not a party, it’s just a get together that just so happens to coincide with the fact that it’s Christmas soon), and Archie has chocolate eyes and cinnamon hair and doesn't say "Jug? Weird name for a girl. Weird name in general." Instead, he says, "Jug? Like... Awesome. That's totally cool. Wanna sit?" And Jug does. Archie’s clutching a beer bottle like his life depends on it, and his face reads a mix of admiration and mild horror when Jug offers him the shitty vodka they’re drinking neat from the bottle. The rejection doesn’t phase them - they just take another gulp, barely a shudder, and jam it between their thigh and the couch cushion as they settle in to talk to Archie. Archie Andrews, who likes dogs and plays guitar and apparently didn’t learn to drink at his dad’s knee like Jug did, because after a couple of bottles his eyes have become wide and remind Jug of coffee the way they drink it, black and sweet. And Archie is sweet, even when the alcohol hits and he gets fixated on the slowly blinking lights on the Christmas tree. He’s so entranced that when he gets up for water he trips.

Jug catches him automatically even through their tipsy haze, pulls him close so he can right his dizzy head, and Archie’s hands somehow find the edges of the binder holding their chest flat and in place, and he feels, and the change in his face means he knows, fuck, he knows, and that’s nearly too much for Jug to bear. They push him away into the hands of someone else, someone equally drunk, mumbling something about a smoke, and their hood is over their head before they’ve even made it out into the night.

They’re not sure what happens between that moment and the next one they know, when Kevin is outside, picking them up from the snowy ground - when did it start snowing? It’s still snowing - and taking the cigarette they’re smoking away. The ground around them is littered with butts, and they mumble out an apology with near-frozen lips, not knowing how long they’ve been out there, not knowing how much they’ve smoked or how they still aren’t sober from the bitter chill to the air. Blacking out is scary, but a memory blackout when you’ve been conscious all along is even more so. Kevin shushes them, says “shut up, Jug” and “it’s okay, everyone’s gone home” and “you’re gonna be okay, sleep here” but Kevin neglects to mention that, inside, Archie is passed out asleep on the very couch they’d talked the evening away on.

Jug can’t sleep in a binder. You’re not supposed to, it’s dangerous, it restricts your breathing and can crush your ribs if you wear it too long. But they’ll be damned if they’re telling Kevin the thing even exists, as he’s coaxing them onto the admittedly inviting warmth of the other couch, near the fireplace where the last embers are still giving off a little heat, and wrapping a soft blanket around their shaking shoulders. They’re too tired, too cold, too drunk to fight this, to fight the wave of exhaustion washing over them. It feels like the warmth and the threat of sleep is a tsunami, and Jug is paralysed on the sand of the beach where the water is going to fall. To drown them.

When they wake up, it sure as hell feels like drowning. The blanket is over their face and their head is spinning and they can’t fucking breathe, and they sit up coughing and gasping for air and somewhere along the lines the coughing brings tears to their eyes and then, of course, of course they’re crying too. Painful, choking crying, the kind that sounds like you can’t get enough air into your lungs because they can’t, it’s too tight, it hurts. It’d be humiliating to die like this.

But then there’s someone there, a hand on their shoulder, pulling the suffocating blanket away, talking in a voice Jug can’t quite place. “Easy, Jug. Shh, you’re gonna be alright. Breathe in, slowly.” They’re panicking, coughing. “I can’t!”

“You can. I know you can. I got you.”

Through the fear, the voice gets in, centres itself in Jug’s terrified mind and sits there. I got you. They don’t remember ever having anyone say that before. It’s always been them, saying that to a scared kid sister or a heartbroken Kevin or a wasted father, carrying him home. The tears dry without any further input from them, and they finally muster up the control to open their eyes. Then, of course, they nearly bolt again.

Archie.

His hand tightens on their shoulder, the other curling in their hair - the hat is gone, again, they don’t remember whether they had it when they fell asleep or not. “Steady,” Archie murmurs. “Breathe. You’re gonna be okay.” Jug takes a shaky breath in, and the pain is sharp, and their hand has to press against their ribs to try and will it away. “I know,” Archie adds in a whisper, thumb brushing the edge of the binder where it sits on Jug’s shoulder/ If they hadn’t already been feeling like they were about to pass out, they’d be feeling it now anyway. “I know. You gotta get it off… Will you trust me?” They don’t have any choice but to do that now, so a shaky nod is all the reply he gets.

And Archie gets the binder off, taking Jug’s loose black tee with it, instinctively covering their exposed skin with the blanket, but being sure to keep it away from their face. Jug inhales deeply, and it rattles and aches, but they can worry about that later. For now, their gaze is on Archie, all the panic revolves around Archie and whatever the hell just happened as they try their best to get the air back into their lungs. A couple more coughs, and Jug feels like they might be able to say something. What comes out is “don’t you say a fucking word to anyone”, and they think that maybe a thank you or an apology for waking Archie up with their drowning in air would have been more appropriate, but the words are hanging in the air now and there’s nothing they can do about them.  They cough again, and Archie’s hand is once again there, now holding them steady through the blanket, making sure the shaking doesn’t knock Jug over, or at least that’s what it seems like. They’re breathing better when they say “I’m sorry.”

“You’re what?” Archie seems genuinely surprised at the words. “Jug… god, no. You don’t have to be sorry… I get it. It’s okay, so long as you’re okay.” He squeezes their shoulder in a way that’s surprisingly comforting. “Just keep breathing a little longer. I don’t wanna get blamed for you being dead when it’s actually morning.” “Time is it?” It feels like Jug’s been asleep for days.

“‘Bout five, five thirty.”

“I woke you… I’m sorry.” That gets an eye roll from Archie. “Told you, you don’t have to say that. Just be okay. I know you will be, but try to be okay soon, so I can stop freaking out… Here. I’ll turn away… if you want me to.” He’s holding out Jug’s tee, and they take it, waiting until his back is turned before pulling it on, then deciding to stay wrapped in the blanket anyway. It’s thicker, more covering, hides them just a little more. Whispering “ready” gets an “okay” in an equally quiet reply, and Archie comes back. He looks down at the couch space beside Jug and waits for a nod, like permission, before he sits. And then sits closer.

Jug closes the gap.

They’re quiet for a while, silence broken only by Jug’s still rasping breathing. They’ll deal with it, or it’ll deal with itself, in time. For now, it’s the last thing on their mind. “You said you knew,” they finally tell Archie quietly. “What did you mean? What do you know about me?”

“Probably more than you expect,” Archie replies, running a hand through his hair. Somehow, the arm ends up around Jug’s shoulders instead of back down by his side. They don’t mind as much as they probably should. “I know what a binder does. And everyone calls you ‘they’, not ‘he’ or ‘she’. It’s more obvious if you know what the puzzle pieces mean.”

Jug snorts, but it turns into a cough. “You’re being mysterious. Nobody told you that’s my job?”

“Nope. I think you say enough with your attitude. Thinking you’re unique.” A pause. Archie clears his throat, and then sighs, and then his head drops sideways to rest against Jug’s, which has at some point fallen to the redhead’s shoulder. “You’re not the only one.”

The words hang in the room like cigarette smoke, which Jug has just realised is probably clinging to their hair and skin and jeans. It must be pretty gross, but Archie’s body is curled up towards them, open, inviting and warm in a hoodie maybe three sizes too big, and he doesn’t seem to want to move away. Jug watches his face, the long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. Wide brown eyes, a smudge of what could be makeup left on the corners of each eyelid. His lips look chapped, yet somehow still soft, and his cheekbones are strong and up this close, Jug can see that they’re peppered with freckles. It dawns on them, lights up the realisation like the sun casts gold over the rooftops as it rises.

“You too?”

Archie nods, closes his eyes, bites his lip and grits his teeth. Jug knows that look. It’s a look of fighting back tears.

“S’okay, Archie. We’re gonna be okay. That’s what you told me,” they murmur. “If I am, you’re gonna be too.” Archie curls up more, and then he moves and buries his face in the crook of Jug’s neck.

Jug brings a hand around to stroke at his hair. It’s sticky and stiff with day-old gel, but the residue brushes away with fingertips, and it’s soft underneath. “Gonna be okay,” Jug repeats, in their rasped whisper. Archie hums almost inaudibly in response.

They must fall asleep again, because when they wake up, all the lights are on and there’s an unexpected touch on their cheek. Their eyes open to Archie’s, hazel now it’s brighter, and close again against the sudden onslaught of a headache. Archie laughs, makes a sympathetic noise, and cups Jug’s cheek so he can kiss the other one. His lips don’t really feel all that chapped once they’re on skin, they realise with a faint smile.

Archie leans in once again and whispers, close to their ear. “Kevin’s making coffee upstairs. Said we could have some. Come with me… S’gonna be okay, Juggie.”

#jughead jones #jarchie #archie andrews #riverdale #riverdale fic #jarchie fic #jarchie fanfic #jughead #juggie #im bad at tags

[diaryoftheuniverse]

Kagura Got A Boyfriend?

"Dear Kagura-chan, Ever since the day I saw you, I cannot explain what I felt. At first I thought I need to go to the bathroom. But then I realize when I was in there, my true feelings. I like you Kagura-chan. Please go out with me. Love, Prince" Shinpachi: Prince???!!! Are you kidding me???!!! He realized his feelings at the bathroom? What the hell was that about???!!! Is this even a love letter???!!! Gintoki: Shut up Shinpachi-kun. You're being noisy. I'm sure Kagura will not fall for this simple letter. She's not familiar in that kind of thing. Otose: Anyway, how do you plan on taking this? Kagura: Well to be honest, I accepted his offer. "WHAAAAAAAAAATTT?????!!!!" Everyone freaked out when she answered. Kagura: Anyway, I'm off to see him and talk about something important. See ya later. Kagura went out of Otose's snack house immediately. Gintoki: I-i-important??!! What is it??!! Oi Shinpachi, how are we going to accept this huh??!!! Gintoki made a weird face. As a stage father, it made him worry a lot especially when he suddenly remembered Kagura's bald head old man's request to not let their only sister/daughter to get into a relationship. Shinpachi: She-she accepted him???!!! Gin-chan!!! Kamui-san and Bald-san will kill us if they knew about this!!! "About what?" A calm familiar voice just barged in their conversation. Gintoki and Shinpachi knew that voice. Shinpachi & Gintoki: Ka-ka-Kamui-san... Kamui: Yo! "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH" Shinpachi: Ka-Kamui-san! Since when did you came? Kamui: Hmm... just now? This little guy guided me all the way here. Isn't that great? We're getting along. Kamui turned to Okita who is resting his back at the door. Okita: Ah. What a pain. I hate this guy. Okita said directly, pointing at Kamui. Gintoki: Well, uh, Kagura-chan went out to buy seaweed sticks so... just relax here and Otose-san will accompany you. Shinpachi: We'll be right back, Kamui san. Gintoki and Shinpachi went out to breathe fresh air. "WHAT NOW???!!!" Shinpachi: Gin-san we have to find Kagura-chan immediately. Gintoki: But where? We don't know their meeting place. Okita: Meeting place? Shinpachi: OKITA SAN!!!!! Help us please!! Okita: Why? What for? Gintoki: Our Kagura got a boyfriend. Okita's face failed and then he laughed. Okita: That's a funny joke boss. Shinpachi: It's not a joke, dumbass!!! Gintoki: Oi Okita kun. Help us or her dumb brother will notice. Okita: How come China got a boyfriend? Maybe she's just playing around? Gintoki: Then might as well read this. Gintoka gave the love letter to Okita and as he reads it, his eyebrows starts to meet each other. He tore the paper into pieces. Shinpachi: O-Okita san? Gintoki: Oi oi oi. He's scaring me. What's with that look Okita kun? Okita: Let's go find China. Okita glared menacingly. His eyes became the eye of a sadist- again. Shinpachi and Gintoki made an eye contact with each other. They're both wondering about what's going on. To find Kagura easily, they brought Sadaharu. And finally they found her, at the park, with a good looking guy sitting beside her. She's talking to him happily. Gintoki and Shinpachi was amused but they sense danger around them- OKITA'S AURA. Shinpachi: Calm down Okita san! Calm down! Man, we don't even know why you're being like that. Gintoki stared at Sougo, he knew what's happening. Gintoki: Let's go. They made their way to where Kagura is sitting. Okita stay put behind. Kagura: Oh? Gin-chan! Shinpachi! Great timing. Gintoki: Oi Kagura. It's late. We're here to pick you up. Let's go. Kagura: Late? It's just 3 in the afternoon. Shinpachi: Oh. Kagura chan, is this man your boyfriend? The prince? Kagura: Ah no. He's just our translator. He's the one behind you. Shinpachi and Gintoki saw a giant foot saw a giant kid. Gintoki: Hold on Kagura-chan. You're dating a foot? Shinpachi: No Gin san. I don't think she's dating a foot. Look above further. They saw a giant ugly chubby kid blushing towards Kagura. "NO WAAAAAAAY." Kagura: What's wrong? Shinpachi: Don't tell me that's the prince? Translator: Yes, Shinpachi-dono. He's the prince of the Planet Giant. Prince Jirou. Gintoki: Oi oi. He's saying something. Translator: Yes, Gin-chan-dono. Your Majesty says nice meeting you all. That he's serious about Kagura-san and he'll make her his wife. "WHAAAAAAAAAAATTTTT???" Kagura: Oi I don't remember agreeing to that. I just accepted your offer for today that's all. Shinpachi: He's talking again. Translator-san what is he saying? Translator: Your Majesty said he'll hold the wedding tomorrow and Kagura-san will be transfered to our planet. Gintoki: Oi wait a minute! That's not how it goes! Okita drew his sword in to the air towards the giant prince. Okita: In that case... FIGHT ME YOU STUPID GIANT PRINCE!!!!! Their eyes windened as they saw Okita in serious sadist mode. Kagura: Oi sadist! Why are you here? Okita: Isn't it obvious China? I'm going to save your ass. Kagura: Oh? Trying to be heroic or something? Okita: Shut up! I will not let you be taken by him until we settle our score. "AAAAAAHHHHHHH LET GO!!!" While they're busy arguing, Gintoki and Shinpachi was held by the giant prince. Translator: Your Majesty will crush them if you don't marry him, Kagura-san. Okita: That's a nasty deal you had there, stupid giant prince. Let me handle y- Kagura: Stop. I'll go. Okita: What? Are you an idiot China? Kagura: I am. So let them go. Okita: China... Kagura: Sorry, sadist. The giant prince let Gintoki and Shinpachi go and got Kagura. She's been taken by the prince. Gintoki: Kagura! Shinpachi: Kagura-chan! Kagura didn't look back but they knew that she's been crying. Shinpachi: Okita kun! What happened? Let's save Kagu- Okita: No more. Let's go bac- Gintoki punched Okita. Hard enough to make his nose bleed. Gintoki: She's a family. Love is fine when it comes to people but not like this. We're not going to give up our baby just like that. Let's go Shinpachi. Gintoki and Shinpachi ran away, planning to pursue and save Kagura from the giant prince. However, Okita doesn't have any idea what will be his next step. Okita: I will not let that giant prince marry her because... I WILL KILL THAT GIRL SOMEDAY. Okita ran after them. This time, he'll be sure to get the head of the giant prince. That same day, Kagura were drugged into sleep. The prince had called the monk to start the ceremony until Shinpachi and Gintoki came. They fought every single army of giants. But they still can't reach Kagura. Shinpachi: Kagura-chan! Wake up! Gintoki: KAGURA!!!! Wake up!!!! Translator: The prince says it's no use. She'll never wake up again. The drug she had been swallowed lately is good for eternity. She'll get have kids in that condition. Shinpachi: YOU'RE STILL HERE???!!! AND HOW IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE LOVE HUH???!!! Translator: The prince says he'll marry every single kind of race to rule the universe. Gintoki: This is bad. Kagura in this case... The two of them got surrounded by the army of giants. Shinpachi: Someone... HELP KAGURA CHAN!!! And they noticed that the army around them came instantly down. And what they saw is unbelievable. Okita Sougo slaying an army of giants. With the eyes of a sadist, he'll turn every head of them upside down. Shinpachi: O-okita san... Gintoki: What took you so long... Okita kun? If Kagura were awake, I'm sure she'll beat you up to pieces. Okita: Rest assured, Boss. I will not let that pig marry a an idiot prince of giants. Okita made his way to the prince while slicing every single one of the enemies. Translator: The prince says you can't stop the ceremony. Okita: I don't care. I just want that girl back. Translator: The prince says who are you and what do you want? Okita: You're big as hell but you have a small brain. I can't hand you that woman. Can't you see? She's mine. Hand her over or I will slice your throat in half. Okita made a move and brought down the prince, leaving Kagura in air. He catches her afterwards. Okita: China, I didn't know you were this cute when you're trying to be a princess. But I'm sorry, I can't let you go. We have to settle everything for good. Wake up. Oi! Prince: It's hopeless. She can't be awaken anymore. She'll die like that. Okita: She's not gonna die by your hands but... BY MY SIDE!!! AAAAARRRRRGGHH!! Okita sliced the prince in half. His anger made him more like a super sadist. Okita: China... wake up. Shinpachi: Okita san, there is a way. The translator told me. Okita: What? Gintoki: Could it be? Okita: I don't get it. Shinpachi: A true love's kiss. Okita: What? But... Gintoki: Oi Okita kun, I knew what you have been struggling. Go and show it if it is true. Okita: Boss, how did you- Gintoki: It's too obvious, bastard. Go now before I change my mind. Okita looked at Kagura. He's preparing to resurrect her. Okita: I can't hide it anymore China. I can't let you die. You'll only be killed either with or by me. Don't worry, this'll be the last time- maybe... Okita is now letting himself synchronize with his feelings. His face is getting closer to her. Okita: I wish I could say this to you when you're awake while kicking my ass off... Okita was about to kiss her when an umbrella stopped it between them. Kamui: Say what, you filthy pervert? Kamui said with a smile. Kamui: What are you planning to my baby sister? I will kill you. Still smiling but is thinking a sadistic way to kill Okita. Shinpachi & Gintoki: Kamui-san/kun!!! Pull yourself together!!! He's just helping Kagura/-chan!!! Kamui stopped. He became worried with his little sister. The guys explained everything and Kamui punished every single one of them. Kamui: Fine. Do it now before I change my mind. Shinpachi: Go for it Okita san! Okita kissed Kagura on the forehead. Gintoki: STUPID!!! Do you think that will make her go back to life? Shinpachi: Wait!!! Look!!! Kagura moved her finger and opened her eyes. As soon as she does, Okita move away from her. Kagura: Oh? What happened? Shinpachi: Kagura-chaaaaan!!!!!!! Kagura: Huh? I thought I saw sadist and my stupid brother. Shinpachi: Well... Gintoki: Don't worry about them. They're starting to get along. Kamui tried to kill Okita for what he did. Kagura: Hmmp... I will kill that sadist... Shinpachi: Well he actually helped y- Kagura: No. I will definitely kill him... ... for not being a good kisser even in the forehead. Idiot sadist. Kagura whispered and smiled. - by: ANNA LORAINE YANOGACIO

#okikagu #okita sougo #okita x kagura #fanfic #kagura yato #gintama

[artificialqueens]

The Trouble with Soul Mates (Vatya/Pearlet)- Squeaky

When you turn thirteen, the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your arm. Jason’s tattoo confuses him.

OR: A ru-telling of Jason’s past and Season 7 ft soulmate tattoos.

Jason’s friends had warned him that soul mate tattoos didn’t always work out. Most of the time, they were nothing but a standard greeting or a cryptic word like ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or 'maybe.’ There were horror stories of people waking up on their thirteenth birthdays to blanks.

Was there anything worse than a blank? Jason had nightmares of bare arms, and he’d wake up in cold sweats.

Jason would browse Reddit and feel his heart break. He read sob story after sob story about people whose words were written in another language, and they never found someone to properly translate. People who discovered their soulmates were married and unwilling to leave their family. People who discovered their soulmate at ninety nine only to die the next day. Jason wasn’t sure which were fiction and which fact.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie” his mother reassured him the night before his thirteenth birthday.

“But how can I not worry about it?” Jason cried. “It’s only the most important thing that’ll ever happen to me.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she sighed as she turned off his lights, “Go to bed.”

How could he sleep? It felt like the night before Christmas, and he couldn’t close his eyes without his heart racing and palms sweating. He crept back onto his computer and looked up soulmate compilation videos featuring Kimye and all the other celebrity couples he loved.

He passed out in front of his computer and, when he woke up, Jason felt a tingling sensation on his arm.

He groaned, rubbed his eyes, and looked down. There it was! He was so excited that the words blurred in front of his eyes. He could tell it was a long sentence -not just a single word!- and he couldn’t stop shaking.

Finally, Jason took a deep breathe and read out loud: “Bitch…you’re not winning drag race.”

Wait…what?

Why would the love of his life call him a bitch and then tell him he wasn’t going to win something? Even more strange, Jason had no clue what a 'drag race’ was. He locked himself in the bathroom with his phone.

Jason typed into Google- 'what is drag race?’.

Wikipedia informed him that 'drag race (n) is a race between two or more cars over a short distance, usually a quarter of a mile, as a test of acceleration.’ Jason wanted to cry; he fucking hated cars, so why would he get into drag racing?!

He scrolled down to another link entitled 'Rupaul’s Drag Race.’ He clicked on it and saw a women with large breasts and overdrawn lips and…no, that wasn’t a woman. Another couple clips sent him swirling into a dark hole full of heels, lipstick, and, uh, 'tucking.’ Why were these queens all screaming at one another and singing along to Madonna? Who was Raven and why had she been robbed?

His mother knocked on his door: “Sweetie, anything you want to share with me?”

Not really.

————–

He went to the mall the next day and bought up a whole cart full of long sleeved sweaters with his mother. They shopped in silence. Jason wondered what she thought about his tattoo, but he didn’t dare to ask after the long, sullen stare she’d had given the black letters.

“Embarrassing tat?” the store cashier teased as Jason dumped the sweaters onto the counter.

He nodded.

“Ah, don’t worry. You know what my best friend’s tat was? 'I didn’t know she was your sister!’ Now, that has to be worst thing that a thirteen year old could ever wake up to, amirighte?”

Jason bit his lip to stop himself from giggling and simply shrugged. He didn’t want to be amused right now. He wanted to be miserable.

“Well, at least you got one,” the lady said as she handed him the bag, “My arm’s been blank for six years now and…well…every morning I still check.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Jason stuttered as he took the bag and gaped at her blank arm. Suddenly, he wasn’t as miserable.

As they walked through the mall, Jason couldn’t help but stare longingly at Sephora. His tattoo meant that he would do drag…didn’t it? What would his lips look like in bright red? His mother tugged him away from the Sephora’s.

When he got home, Jason stared sullenly at the sweaters and then shoved them into the back of the closet. Instead, he picked out a tank top and wore it proudly to school the next day. Sure, Jason was sent to the nurse’s office to 'cover up’ the inappropriate word on his arm with a band-aid, but he ripped it off as soon as the final bell rang.

“That tattoo means you’re gonna be a fag and a loser,” the local bully taunted him as he gathered up his books. 

“No, it means I’m going to win a lifetime supply of makeup, and you’re going to watch me slay the game and find my soulmate. All while you sit home alone.”

The black eye was worth it.

————–

Jason got a fake ID when he was seventeen. He tugged his hair back into a bun and painted his lips a dark purple for the occasion, and while the makeup made him appear older, he still looked like a middle schooler. Even the pink, prom dress he had stolen from his mother’s closet seemed childish.

“They are not going to give you any alcohol,” his friend Tammy teased.

“Bitch, how is it my fault I look five?”

“Bad genetics I guess. Speaking of which…what did your mom say?”

“She doesn’t know I’m here,” Jason snorted. “She’d tear my hair out if she knew that I was going down to the club in a pair of heels and her old dress. Like come on. Really, queen?”

“You’ve been watching Rupaul, huh?”

“Duh. As soon as I’m old enough I’m going to send in my application. Maybe if you followed my blog, you’d be in the know.”

Jason had proudly decorated his arm with glitter to show off the tattoo, and the black letters glimmered under the streetlight. He could hear the beat of the music even from a block away. Jason felt a tug in his chest when he saw a drag queen -in person for the first time!- but he felt too shy to wave as she flounced by. Instead, he bit his lip and impatiently tapped his heels.

The bouncer squinted dubiously at theirs IDs, shrugged, and let them through. Inside, the whole place was alive with bubbles and strobe lights. Jason was sure that he had just left the real world and floated into a fantasy land, and, yeah, this was where he belonged.

The newly crowned winner Sharon Needles was performing with her girlfriend Alaska tonight, and Jason was pumped. They were crude, rude, and everything he wanted to be. Needles would be wearing her glittering crown, and, he licked his lips at the thought.

He grabbed his friend’s hand and whispered, “When they go on stage, let’s sneak into their dressing room.”

“What?! Jason, no, that’s crazy!”

“Sh, here they come. Let’s go!” Jason giggled as he slipped out from the heat of the crowd into the cool hallway, where the dark shadows covered their guilty faces. A security guard was napping on the coach, and Jason pressed a finger to his lips as he cracked open the door.

There was no one inside!

The crown glittered in the center of the room, unprotected, and it was glamorous. God, Jason’s heart skipped a beat as he lifted it up and placed it on his head. There was no doubt in his mind that he would win himself one of these in a couple years.

“Take a picture,” he cried as he spun around in his gown and crown. “This shit’s going straight on my blog.”

“Shhh! This is so wrong,” Tammy urged even as she snapped shots of him.

Jason straddled a couch cushion and struck a pose. Then he lifted up his dress to show off his panties, and Tammy had to cover her mouth to stop herself from giggling.

The doorknob turned, and they both froze.

“We…this…isn’t what it looks like?” Tammy sputtered.

Alaska blinked: “No? You’re not a bunch of kids posing with my boyfriend’s crown.”

“Uh, yeah, actually this is exactly what it looks like. We snuck in here to try on Needle’s crown, but I…well, I just know that I’m going to win drag race because of my soulmate tattoo, so…” Jason lamely explained.

He, slowly, took the crown off his head and placed it back onto the table.

When Alaska’s face twisted up, Jason’s heart skipped a beat. What if she said- bitch, you’re not winning drag race?

“I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t see anything,” the queen decided. “You two better get out of here before my 'better’ half comes and rips you a new one. She’s wasted.”

Jason nodded, tearing up, and left.

Outside the club, Tammy lamented that they had missed their opportunity to see Sharon and Alaska perform live or gotten an autograph.

Jason silently slumped on the curb and flipped through the pictures. His heart twisted as he zoomed in on the sparkling crown that had just been perched on his head. What had he been more disappointed by? That he had to give the crown back…or that Alaska hadn’t said his soulmate’s words?

He wondered how Alaska felt when after Sharon confessed on national TV that she loved Alaska even though they they didn’t have each other’s tattoos. Jesus, that had caused a lot of fucking controversy on Untucked and Reddit. 

“It’s ok, Tammy. I’ll get you their autographs when I win.”

“Win what?”

“Drag race.”

“Wow, you have a one track mind, huh? How can you even be that confident you’ll even get on the show?”

Jason rubbed his fingers along the curve of his tattoo: “I know.”

————–

Of course 'knowing’ was one thing and getting on the damn show was another. Jason had to leave his hometown and move to Atlantic City to try and make a name for himself. Well…herself.

Violet was everything that he had ever dreamed of. Where Jason was insecure, Violet was nothing but stilettos and smirks. The spotlight had always made his heart clench up, but it made her’s soar.

Of course, it wasn’t all big wigs and kisses. He had to live in a cruddy apartment and work a part time job in Sephora. Drag wasn’t exactly paying the rent. Still, every time that he painted his face, he felt a little closer to what he was destined to be. 

At least, that’s what he told himself when the power went out, and he had curl up under twenty blankets. His roommates came and went, but the roaches were always there for him. He applied every year to the show, and every year he was rejected.

Until he wasn’t.

“Are you serious? Oh my god!” Jason gasped when he got the call.

Then he was running around trying to assemble a wardrobe, and he didn’t leave himself a minute to even let it sink in. If he stopped, for even a moment, he was afraid that it would all slip through his fingers.

It wasn’t until he was on the plane to LA, that he had a second to breathe. He was watching some movie about two soul mates that kept missing each other for twenty years, and then he started sobbing. The person besides him on the plane was giving him a serious side eye, but Jason couldn’t do anything but wipe his wet cheeks.

That was when the doubt came. How could he know that his soulmate would be on the show? Maybe he would lose the first round, and then someone would say it to him in a bar afterwards and…no, Jason stopped himself, he couldn’t doubt.

“This is it,” Jason muttered to himself.

He went to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and promised that he wouldn’t cry.

Jason inhaled and slowly exhaled as he repeated, “This is it.”

————–

Adore had to fuck it up for everybody. She had been the first queens to ever find her soulmate on drag race, and she spent the whole season chasing after Bianca. Everyone thought it was adorable (pun intended) but the producers were worried that it took away from the ‘quality’ of the show.

“….so now everyone has to cover up their tattoos with makeup? What!? This is the first time I’ve heard about this?”

Dave, the handler, placed a comforting hand on Violet’s shoulder as he said, “Trust me, girl. You’ll be thankful. Had Adore been focused, she wouldn’t have run around uncinched. What you saw on the show? It didn’t even start to cover what a mess she was! No, it’s better that you cover up and concentrate on the game. Isn’t that what you came here to win? The crown?”

“Yeah, it’s just,” Violet sighed as she started to spread powder over her tattoo, “I always thought that I’d meet the one here…”

Dave raised his brow.

“No, you’re right. I’m here to win a crown not 'Soulmate Bachelor.’”

She covered up her tattoo, and that wasn’t part of the plan. Still, as long as they said her words, and she said there’s. Why then…why wouldn’t they recognize each other? Right?

Everything was a blur strutting into that work room.

Violet was speaking, but she couldn’t even be sure what she was saying. Everyone here was so fierce. There was a queen in all fucking blue like some sexy alien. There was a queen who kept talking in a phony, British accent.

She could feel the camera watching her as she eyed all the naked wrists. Was this more liberating or terrifying? Violet pinched her bare skin to remind herself that she had made it. Here she was.

Violet leaned against the work desk: “So how does everyone feel coming all this way just to be filler queens?”

The squat, red-headed one snorted and asked, “Oh, and y’all really think you’re really gonna snatch that crown, gurl?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

The one in all communist-red turned to her and said, “Bitch, you’re not winning drag race.”

Violet felt her face flush at the familiar words, her arm tingling, but, before she could say anything, the blonde with a chin strap snorted and repeated the words.

Both of them had said it.

Violet opened her mouth and closed it like she was gasping for air. How long had she waited to hear those words…only to have not one but two queens say it to her?

“F-fuck off.” Violet stammered, taken off guard.

The chin strap one stared at her for a moment too long, but the queen in red spandex had already moved on to another conversation. What did it mean? If only she could see their tattoos to see which one had 'fuck off’ written there.

When they stripped, Violet found her eyes drawn to Pearl. She was definitely the cutest out of drag. Katya might have been attractive if she hadn’t been babbling about fuck knows what. If one of them was her soulmate, shouldn’t Violet know which one?

She squeezed herself next to Pearl on the car ride home, and her skin tingled where their arms were pressed together. Violet cleared her throat and tried to think of something to say. Anything.

“Uh, so we’re on the show.”

Pearl stared at her with those bored, half-hooded eyes: “Yeah. Guess we are.”

“Pretty exciting. Right?”

“Sure.”

Pearl’s eyes were cold, and she couldn’t read what emotion, if any, lay behind them. Violet squirmed in her seat, sighed, and stared out the window. 

She could see Katya’s reflection in the glass as she cracked a joke to Trixie. They laughed, and Violet felt her stomach twist. She had always imagined that she would hear them say her words, say their words right back, and -then viola!- wedding bells. Nothing was going as planned.

That night she dreamed that she was naked in the workroom, and all the queens were there, pouring scalding water on their wrists, until there was nothing but burning flesh. They held her down and forced her to join them. Peeling her skin off to reveal bare bones. Violet woke up with her heart pounding as she checked to see that she was still intact.

What the actual fuck?

———————-

Violet was on the show of her dreams with two people who could potentially be the queens of her dreams. And you know what? She was fucking miserable.

She hadn’t been big on food before, but, now, she didn’t ever finish her lunch. If she managed to swallow two, little bites, it was an accomplishment. There was an all consuming numbness, and Violet couldn’t consume anything that wasn’t drag.

Everyone around her was friendly, but, besides Fame, she didn’t feel like any of them wanted to be around her. 

Somehow on Untucked, the conversation had turned to soulmates. Ginger had brought it up. How did she always know exactly what to say to get under Violet’s skin?

“I have the most distinctive tattoo, lemme tell you. Soon as a man says what’s written on my wrist, I will snatch ‘em up. Not worried.”

Katya laughed: “Of course it is! I’m stuck with the world’s most vague words. At thirteen, I thought everyone from the schoolyard bully to the lunch lady could be my soul mate.”

“The lunch lady? Now that’s gotta mess you up,” Ginger snorted.

“Oh, trust me. Pam the Lunch Lady fucked me right up with her meatloaf love,” Katya said with a wink, and Ginger cackled.

“An’ how about'chu Pearl?”

“Vague.”

Violet jumped in: “Well, I thought mine was distinctive before I came here, but now I don’t know.”

Pearl and Katya both looked up at her, and she flushed under their inquisitive gazes. What she wouldn’t do to just to rub away the powder and show them.

Production directed them to change the topic, and Violet was happy to.

———————-

Brian squeezed up next to him in the car, and Jason eagerly leaned into his side. He may be a cold-blooded bitch, but he still wanted what everyone in this hellish life wanted- hot sex. Brian was handsome out of drag…in that weird way of his.

“So how many brain cells do you think you have left, Jason? After suffocating in that corset?”

“More than you,” he said, trying to come off as flirtatious but landing closer to pissed off.

“I get a raging erection every time you say something bitchy. So I have a raging erection at all times, and it’s really interfering with my drag.”

“Seek medical help?”

“Oh, I’m a medical mystery. Maybe if you just donkey punched me in the throat and fucked me until I couldn’t move, it might fix the problem.”

“I never know what you’re talking about,” Jason confessed. “Like are we flirting or just vaguely implying that we can’t stand each other?”

Brian shrugged: “Both? Neither? I just get the feeling that we’re going to fuck, and I want the time between now and then to be as slim as possible. Possibly slim enough to slide beneath my hotel door, get on your knees, and suck me off.”

Jason blinked and then laughed. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew that Katya’s thumb was rubbing over his bare thigh as the car bumped to the hotel. Matt turned around to glare at them, opened her mouth, and then closed it.

“What’s up Pearl-y, baby?“ Jason teased. “You look like you just sucked on a lemon.”

“Just…thinking about one of the camera men- he was giving me major daddy vibes.”

Violet leaned forwards, Katya’s hand resting on the small of her back and asked, “What if your soulmate is young?”

“Better be well hung then,” Ginger joked.

“I don’t give a shit about soulmates, alright? They’re just shit the media pushes down your throat to try and sell you products. ‘Try SOS dot com! You’ll match with your soulmate in a month or get your money back guaranteed.’ Load of bullshit I don’t wanna swallow.”

“I think it’s romantic,” Json said, taken aback, as he leaned into Brian’s side. He’d never met anyone so bitter about soulmates.

Yeah, he knew there was people, frequently shown on rom-coms, who liked to complain that soulmates were ‘chains to keep you trapped,’ but Jason had always thought of them as liberating. What was his deal?

Instead, Jason leaned forward into Brian’s side, gripped her leg, and whispered: “What are your words?”

“Fuck off.”

“Is that really them? The words? Or are you joking?”

Brian only winked.

Jason let his hand wander down, so it was resting over Brian’s denim crotch. As Jason gave him a light squeeze, he felt it twitch under her grip. Someone coughed loudly, and Jason reluctantly pulled away.

Late that night, Jason touched himself to the thought of getting down on his knees and Brian’s hands pulling roughly at his hair. His cock hardened as he twisted his wrist. What would Brian’s fingers feel like inside him? Would they shake from withdrawal? Or would he be steady and sure?  

Jason rolled over as replayed the scene in the car when the the engine had rumbled between his thighs. He replayed the way Brian had sharply inhaled and looked at him so tenderly. Jason speed up his pace, breathe coming in shallow pants.

Then Brian’s face transformed to Matt’s, and Jason came all over himself with a pathetic groan.

“What’s wrong with me?” Jason muttered as he tossed and turned.

In his dreams, he was buried in the workroom under the concrete, and Brian was trying to dig him out. Then Matt stepped on Brian’s hands until they fell off and scampered away. Then more and more hands poured out, and buried Jason.

He woke up gasping for breathe, and, as always, wondering what the fuck?

———————-

“Katya, let’s start with you,” Ginger began as she adjusted her Hello Kitty cape. “What’s been your most challenging moment?”

“I think it happened last night. I think that was the worst…I mean I’ve had…there’s been like a lot of moments where I’ve felt really, really bad. But last night I think I had a panic attack.”

Violet she felt her heart twist up: “Oh no.”

“And it was one of those things where like-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ginger softly interrupted. Violet, for the first time, felt grateful for the southern queen.

“This competition has been hard in a way that I didn’t expect.”

Violet had been so wrapped up in herself that she hadn’t noticed that bags under Katya’s eyes. She felt like such shit. Violet scooted forward on the couch and wrapped her arms around Katya.

“I felt like a baby saying it-”

Violet chuckled: “Well, yeah.”

Katya pushed her back.

“You know what you can suck? My whole dick.”

“Can I please? God, I’m so, like, finally!” Violet laughed, stomach twisting, and, even from behind her pink headpiece, she could see that Pearl was smiling along with the rest of them. How was it that at the most stressful peak of the show, Violet finally felt like she was breaking through to them?

Ginger turned to Violet: “Okay, so what has been your most difficult moment?”

“My most difficult moment was really feeling like I had no one in the world to talk to. Like I literally felt like everyone hated me. I had a mini breakdown in the beginning because everyone thought I was this rotted cunt. And I mean..I kinda am that.”

Katya, stretching her legs out, interjected: “You’re just a regular cunt. Not a rotted one.”

“I’ll say when I first came in, for the most part, it was all about competition. And I remember being like, okay bitch, game face. Like, you’ve got to go in here and be confident and strong and show strength and…maybe that wasn’t the best concept?”

Katya leaned forward and squeezed her shoulder: “No, that has been your greatest asset, are you kidding me? That is the thing I admire about you so much. Bitch. You. Are. In it. To win. It.”

It meant everything, after all of this doubt, to hear Katya say that to her. She wanted to bury her face into Katya’s shoulder again, but, with the cameras all around them, she choose to stay seated. She wanted to tell Katya that she was amazing and super talented, but the conversation had moved in.

She noticed that Pearl was eyeing her as she got up a couple minutes later to go talk to Katya.

“Look at me,” Violet took Katya’s hands and squeezed them in her own. “This is me being real.”

Katya cackled, and they had to take a second to catch their breathe. What was it about Katya that made Violet feel so giddy and real? She almost tripped over her heel, and Katya caught her wrist, right where her words were concealed.

“Look what happens when you try to get real, bitch!”

Violet giggled and went to adjust her makeup, but, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Katya practicing the lip synch. Her heart sank as she realized that she might be running out of time. Why couldn’t she just tell Katya the truth? Tell her that she thought she was her soulmate?

Then Katya was slamming down onto stage in a split, lip syncing for her life. Her and Kennedy were neck in neck. Violet knew she shouldn’t be taken sides, but she knew who she wanted to stay.

Behind her back, Violet crossed her fingers.

“Katya, you may doubt yourself sometimes, but I have no doubt that you are a star. And a hammer. And a sickle…sashay away.”

Violet clapped even though all she wanted to do was cry.

Katya had left Violet a small note tucked away into one of her heels. ‘Fuck off.’ it read with little hearts, and Violet pressed it to her chest. She didn’t let the cameras see it, slipping it away into her bag. She kept her face composed and then cried in her hotel room.

If Violet had found her soulmate, why did she feel like something was missing?

———————-

It was the final four Untucked, just a couple days since Katya had left, and you could cut the tension with a knife. Violet sipped her cocktail, silent, as everyone eyed each other up.

“What are you thinking about?” Pearl asked, shifting closer to her. Violet stared down at her bare wrist and sighed.

“I’m just trying to process everything. I just need to…replay everything.”

“What didn’t help,” Pearl added. “Was how the two of you had each other’s back but just threw Violet and I under the bus.”

Then Ginger and Kennedy were going back and forth, like a game of verbal tennis, defending themselves. They needed to both calm down before she lost her temper.

“I do drag for me, and that’s it,” Violet snapped, cutting off their rant about the essential nature of Pageants.

Pearl didn’t fire back at all, eyes downcast, and arms tucked between her legs. She had her infamous lemon face on, and Violet wanted to hug her. 

“I don’t know…everyone thinks that I’m on drugs, and I have no personality. So I’m probably…”

Going home, Violet filled in the blanks.

Then everyone was back at it again, and Violet wanted it to be over. Ginger snapped that they were going to ‘get a smoke and fuck off,’ and Pearl visibly flinched.

As Violet got up to go the bathroom, Pearl followed her.

“Thanks for defending us,” the blonde said, and Violet leaned in to give her a soft kiss on the cheek, careful not to smudge her makeup as she leaned against the bathroom door.

“It’s…they’re just letting their competitive spirits get the best of them. This will all be over by the time the reunion rolls around.”

Pearl buried her face into Violet’s arms: “I’m sorry for being so distant.”

“Sh, it’s fine. You’re fine.”

“But I can’t, like, handle it when people yell at me or get confrontational because…my stupid soulmates words are ‘fuck off.’ And every time someone screams it at me, I feel myself hurting so fucking bad.”

Violet was sure that she was the first one to see Pearl like this, and she hugged her tighter in her arms. 

“My words are 'Bitch, you’re not going to win drag race,’ but did I take that as a sign I was going to lose? No…I decided that it mean’t I was going to win. The words are there, in black and white, but you’re the one who gives them color.”

Pearl hiccuped and then took a step back, “Wait…I- I said that to you, and then you- but- but didn’t Katya say them first?”

“We need everyone back on the main stage!”

Violet nodded as they stared at one another, and she saw Pearl’s eyes flash with a grim understanding. She had never read of a case of someone with two soulmates, not in all her years and years of internet browsing. Only one of the could be the her soulmate.  

“I want it to be me,” Pearl whispered, cupping her face, and sadly kissed Violet’s cheek. 

This really had turned into soulmate bachelor. 

———————-

Jason flew back home and went into hibernation for a couple days. He kept the blinds closed and the covers pulled up high over his head. Jason allowed himself a couple days of misery and then he took a deep breathe and turned on the scorching, cold shower. As he stepped right into the needle-like spray, Jason decided only the the truth would heal this. 

“Hi, mom, how are you? Yeah, long time no call. I was doing this television thing- yeah, the one I’ve been talking about for years. Uh huh, 'Rapal’s Dank Raze.’ So, this may sound like an obvious question, but how did you know that dad was the one?”

“Because we said each other’s words?”

He sighed and buried his face in the palm of his hand: “Yeah, mom, but what if there was…a duplicate? A mistake?”

“No such thing, sweetie-”

“But what if dad said 'hey, sunshine’ and then little Timmy said the same thing after him? How would you know who it was him?”

“It would still be him. The words are just a sign, but you can feel your soulmate deeper than just that. Jason, did something happen? Did Rapal say your words?”

“Uh, no mom. Nothing happened.”

Except everything.

“Well, if something like that did happen I would just go with the more handsome one-”

“Bye, Mom!”

“Wait, no, I think your cousin Suzie had something like this happen to her.”

“I don’t know cousin Suzie.”

“Because she moved to Utah to get polygamy married. It’s true, you know. There are cases of people having more than one soulmate. In the good old days, you’d have the two fight to the death but, you know, some traditions die hard. Well, good luck sweetie.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Jason sighed as he rubbed his head. 

———————-

In the end it wasn’t as dramatic as a fight to the death or eloping in Utah. Instead, they all gathered at a Cafe and had peppermint tea with flower shaped sugar cookies. It was all so sweet Jason thought he might be getting a toothache. Outside of the cooker pressure of the race, it was easy to lean back in the LA sun and just breathe. 

“So,” Matt said as he licked the cookies crumbs from his thumb. 

“So,” Jason said and looked between the both. 

“So what? Are we ordering more cookies or?” Brian said and then burped so loudly the little old lady next to them dropped her tea cup. That sent them all into red faced hysterics as they tried to hide their guilty faces behind their own cups. 

Somehow, they made it into an Uber without harming any more elderly people. Jason squeezed onto Brian’s lap, and Matt threw his shoulder over Brian. They were all tangled up, and Jason didn’t want to pull them apart. It felt like they had been pulling away for so long, and now they could fall together, the perfect puzzle pieces. 

Jason could still taste the sweetness on Brian’s tongue as he tugged him by the scruff of his neck into a kiss. He was hard in his slacks as Matt slid his hand between his legs and squeezed. Jason groaned, wondering which name he should moan when he realized- both. It’s both of them. 

“Having trouble?” Matt teased.

Brian bit the edge of his lip: “Let’s make that double.”

“That’s the trouble with soulmates,” Jason gasped. “You never know when you’re going to get two.”

Even though it was still two weeks until the crowning, Jason felt like he’d already won. With his soulmate’s arms around him he was king of the world, with or without a crown.

#soulmate au #vatya #pearlet #violet chachki #katya zamolodchikova #pearl liaison #squeaky #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant #the trouble with soul mates

[enigmatist17]

Beastly Adventure (2) (Beauty and the beast AU)

Just a thought about what would happen to Ford if he lost pages in the AU. I think Gideon would keep ripping them out until he told him where Stan was, and with each page he loses more and more of himself.

Also his writing changes on his emotions.

@a-million-chromatic-dreams

“KILL THEM ALL! WE’LL HAVE THIS CASTLE AS MY PLACE TO RULE, WITH MABEL BY MY SIDE!” Gideon’s excited screams echoed as the townsfolk busted the gate leading to the infamous castle open with a loud bang, the crowd swarming into the castle grounds lead by Gideon himself. He knew Mabel was inside along with the no-good brother of hers, and he was going to slay the beast and take her as his own, even if the enchanted people trying to run from the crowd would most likely die in the process. “And you’re gonna help me.” He whispered to the red journal in his hands, a wicked grin on his face as he flipped it open. ”Leave them alone I beg of you!” The writing was shaky chicken-scratch, scribbles soon appearing when Gideon chuckled and ripped out one of the back pages, the paper turning to ink as it bled onto the floor between Gideon’s fingers. “I’m gonna take this place over, and yer brother is gonna die.” He laughed, pocketing the book as he and his cronies advanced into the castle, the enchanted citizens being captured one by one as they searched for the beast. The closer they got the more frantic Ford’s writing became every time Gideon opened the journal, ripping out pages until Ford told him where Stan most likely was hiding, unaware of anything else as he ascended deeper into the castle. By the time he came upon Stan hulking in his study, the journal only had a few pages left, the beast snarling when he watched a page turn to ink in Gideon’s hands. “You ready to die?” The white-haired boy asked, dropping the book to the floor as he revealed the weapon hidden under his cloak. Stan only stood still as Gideon attacked, the two quickly disappearing onto the balcony as they fought. Dipper and Mabel didn’t see Ford on the ground as they burst into the room minutes later, running towards the balcony with terrified cries as they heard Stan roar in agony. Then there was silence. Ford had no perception of this, only aware that he was lying open on the ground with the last few pages fluttering in the wind from the storm outside. He couldn’t recall where he was, or who he was exactly, only knowing that he seemed to be in some sort of room. He could faintly hear some sort of sound coming from outside, his muddled mind realizing someone was crying over something outside, yet for the life of him couldn’t fathom what the crying could be for. One page was tugged from the weathered bindings in the wind coming from the balcony, and Ford found himself now unable to recall what he had been thinking of before, the enchanted male barely recognizing the joyous shout from outside as the world suddenly went silent. “…ay? He isn’t…” “…ink everywhere, maybe…” “…uman again! But why isn’t…” “…ever wake? It’s been wee…” “…please wake up.” The first thing Ford was aware of, was the soft surface below him. Now this sensation rather stumped the male, as the only sensation he could recall was pressure and nothing else from the days of his being human. The fact that he felt this soft surface under him was rather confusing, Ford taking a breath as he tried to mull the thought over, train of thought crashing to a halt when he realized he had drawn breath. Books didn’t need to breathe, yet here he was taking another slow breath as if for the first time, lungs expanding and contracting to cycle air through his body. He…he was human. He was human again…he was human again! The more he concentrated, the more Ford could feel, like the cool breeze curling around his exposed face and arms, the satin sheets lying on top of the soft clothes he was sure belonged to Stan- Stanley…the name sounded familiar, but why? It brought feelings of joy, sadness and fear, but again Ford could not understand why he thought these things of his brother… Brother! Memories burst forward into his mind, the male watching behind closed eyelids as his childhood and subsequent 30 years trapped in the form of a journal play like they had just happened yesterday. They paused when he heard a door opening from in front of where he lay, someone walking over with a tray carrying something that most likely contained food from what Ford could smell. While Ford celebrated internally about being able to smell something for the first time in years he felt a small and smooth hand gently curl around one of his long fingers as if in comfort. “Hi Grunkle Ford…it’s Dipper again. I brought you some soup again, I know you probably are sick of it by now but it’s all we can do right now…” The voice was male, Ford thinking of whom it could belong to as he felt the surface he lie on dip down with the boy’s wait. He must be on a bed, the man thinking hard as he felt his head being cradled in the boys’ arm, a spoon being held to his lips. The warmth spread from the liquid as Ford felt his jaw be opened, the delicious liquid hitting his tongue almost overpowering Ford’s senses as he felt the food travel down his throat when he subconsciously swallowed. His head spun as the boy fed him another spoonful, senses this time almost ready as the taste was a bit dulled but none the less delicious. He was fed until the bowl was most likely empty, Dipper careful as he placed Ford’s head back onto the soft surface which he realized was a pillow. Wait, Dipper? Memories of the two excitable children that had come into his life began to come forth once again as the child took ahold of his finger once again. “I’ll be back later Grunkle Ford, I found a really cool book in the library yesterday, and I think you’d really like it…” Dipper trailed off, sighing quietly as he squeezed the digit tenderly. “I hope you wake up…we all miss you so much.” The desperation in Dipper’s voice cut through Ford like a knife into his recently-regained human heart, the man cursing his inability to speak as Dipper soon retreated from the room with the tray, leaving Ford alone again, though not for long. Some entered the room sometime later, Ford feeling joy when a hand just as big as his curled around the six-fingered hand almost tenderly. “Hey Sixer…” The gruff voice sent joy coursing through Ford’s mind, his brother sighing as he sat on the bed just like Dipper had done. “Just…checkin’ in I guess. The repairs to the castle are all done, and the people of Gravity Falls are learnin’ to accept us now…Your books are real popular, though Dipper is the only one I’ve seen who reads them over and over. Mabel, cute little…” Stan went silent when he felt something twitch in his hand, blue eyes going wide when he watched his brother’s hand curl around his slowly, as if moving his hand was something he was doing for the first time. “F-Ford?” He watched as his brother’s hand moved once again, just as slowly but the grip on his finger was just a little bit tighter. “Y-You’re finally awake! I…I thought you were never gonna…oh god.” Ford was confused as to why he felt wet spots on his hand, but realized Stanley was crying when he heard his brother’s breathing hitch. “I’m so sorry Ford…I should have listened to you, I shouldn’t have stolen from that witch…I almost lost you, almost killed everyone else because of me…I’m so sorry…” Stan couldn’t help the frustration spilling out, but he just wanted to tell Ford everything he had bottled up until the kids had begun to tear down the walls he had put up to hide his pain. He loved his brother, and his greed had almost resulted in his death, something that had been tearing Stanley up inside over the last several months Ford had been unconscious. He paused when he felt Ford grasp his hand once again, a broken smile crossing his lips as he felt a laugh of relief burst from between his lips, Ford almost jarred when Stan scooped him up into a gentle hug. “I’m just so happy you’re okay…” ”I am to Stanley.” Ford thought happily, unaware a tear trailing down his cheek until he felt Stanley wipe it away. “We’re gonna help you through this Sixer…all of us.” Ford thought about who he could be talking to, feeling a bit sad as Stan got to his feet and walked away, Ford wishing he could call out to make him stop until he heard Stan bellow for Dipper and Mabel, quickly returning to Ford’s side. Stan felt guilty about leaving Ford as he watched his brother weakly squeeze his hand with his achingly familiar six-fingered hand, but smiled when Dipper and Mabel burst into the room. “What’s wrong Grunkle Stan?” Her voice was filled with concern, but that soon lifted when she saw her grunkle ford moving his hand being held by Stanley. “Is Grunkle Ford awake?!” “I think so kid.” He laughed, Mabel launching herself onto the bed as Dipper bounced nervously with a grin on his face. “Grunkle Ford! It’s been a long time since you went to sleep!” Mabel gushed, taking Ford’s free hand into hers as if holding glass. “Can you hear us?” Her grin grew even more when the large fingers curled around hers, her squeal of joy almost shattering his poor eardrums as she was right next to him. “Mabel! Remembered what dad said?” Dipper said quietly, Mabel shaking her head as she hugged Ford’s hand close to her. “He said grunkle Ford has to get used to things like hearing again, and screaming in his ear isn’t going to help.” “Opps…sorry grunkle Ford!” Mabel was still enthusiastic, but her voice was much lower as she kissed Ford’s index finger, which twitched at her touch. “I think he forgives me.” “I’m sure he does sweetheart.” Stan commented, Ford feeling Dipper join them on the bed and sit beside his brother, small hand wrapping around his extra digit. Ford couldn’t help but feel joy at the three people he held most dear around them, his lips slowly forming a small but unmistakable smile that had them all gasp. “Oh my gosh Grunkle Ford is smiling!” Mabel nearly squealed, bouncing slightly as she hugged Ford’s arm once more. Stan and Dipper both chuckled as the smile remained on Ford’s face until he drifted back into sleep. When he regained consciousness untold hours later Ford felt three warm bodies around him, the chirping of crickets and the slightly warm air settling above him comfortably marking it most likely as it being the middle of the night. Settled on top of his chest and stomach was a small figure, Ford guessing it to be Dipper from the light scent of cinnamon he had smelled earlier, the boy having wrapped his arm around Ford’s neck to stay close to his grunkle. The smaller figure on his left must be Mabel, the girl muttering about unicorns and her father with a slight hum of content, having burrowed against his side under his arm, which lay resting overtop the girl. To his right was Stanley, the familiar scent of wood and the roses his brother loved so washing over Ford as Stanley held all three close to him, chest slowly rising and falling as he slept on. Ford listened to the sounds around him for some time, eventually picking up that a fifth person was in the room, some parchment rustling as they read some sort of book. He struggled to think of who it could be, but had no answer as whomever it was seemed to be watching over the sleeping trio. Ford listened to them read for quite some time until he felt Mabel start to toss and turn, the person standing and going to Mabel’s side in what seemed an instant. “Hush little star, it’s alright.” The voice had a southern tint to it, hands gently moving Ford’s arm so they could pick up Mabel and presumably hold her close to them. “Daddy’s here now…” “Grunkle Ford…don’t leave grunkle Ford…we love you…” Mabel whimpered as she slept, the man Ford now knew as her father gently cooing to the girl until she woke. “He’s right here, safe and sound.” Mabel sniffled as she was placed down onto the bed, instantly hugging Ford’s arm a bit tightly. “I know…I just…I thought he was gone again.” She whimpered slightly, tears streaming down her face and onto Ford’s arm. “I don’t want him or grunkle Stan to ever leave…” “They won’t baby girl.” The man soothed, Mabel wiping at her eyes. “If anythin’, you two are gonna make sure that ain’t gonna happen.” “I guess…” Mabel giggled quietly, grinning lightly when Ford forced a small smile onto his face. “Hi grunkle Ford…sorry if I woke you.” “I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” The other man said gently, Mabel gently squeezing Ford’s hand. Ford’s smile remained, though he was frustrated he could give no other sign than a hand twitch or a smile. He had forgotten how his body worked, but as he thought he remembered he had eyes, slightly stumped but immediately wanted to try and open them. Having been a book for so long, Ford had forgotten what it was to be human, forgotten that once he could see the world around him rather than be limited to hearing and the feeling of pressure. Ford focused on his eyes, straining as he told his body to open them despite not quite remembering how to. At first nothing happened, but as he continued to concentrate Ford noticed a small sliver appear, the only thing he could see was nothing but whiteness. But he forced himself to continue, his eyes slowly but surely opening despite the assault of color overwhelming him. Once they were fully open tears began beading in his eyes as they experienced seeing for the first time in over 30 years, the room a mishmash of muddled colors as he tried to remember what colors and shapes were. ‘Oh my gosh grunkle Ford!” Blinking slowly a few times Ford watched as the figure swimming into view came into focus. Wild brown hair greeted him first, framing a face that seemed to comprise of only a wide grin, a button nose and big blue eyes that were focused on a man she had come to love like family. “You can see me!” “Easy darlin’ he needs to adjust to things.” Ford blinked again as he looked to his left, a short bushy beard the first thing that greeted his eyes. The man was smiling slightly, brown eyes framed by small glasses that were slightly cracked and covered with soot. He was a bit short compared to Stanley (and himself he realized after remembering he was human once again) but seemed to have a spark for research he recognized once having himself years ago. Ford gave the man a weak smile, the man tipping his head in acknowledgement as Mabel woke her brother and Stanley by shaking them rather hard. “Mabel, let me sleep.” Dipper complained with a yawn, nuzzling his head back down into Ford’s chest with a whine. “But Grunkle Ford opened his eyes!” Ford would have jumped in surprise at the mop of brown hair that suddenly appeared in his field of view, curious blue eyes looking into his before a smile crossed the boy’s face. Dipper had a spark in his eyes that mirrored his long ago, his look one of a boy that had grown much in the past few months and loved where he was now, in a place that had started out as a prison and become his home over time. A second face came into view, one that Ford could call his own except for the more prominent chin and mischievous glint in the dark blue eyes he hadn’t seen in such a long time. Ford couldn’t help the tears that began to roll down his cheeks as Stanley moved Dipper from his spot, embracing Ford with his own tears that quickly dampened his shoulder. “Welcome back Sixer…” Ford smiled as Dipper and Mabel watched beside them with matching smiles, finally happy he could see the family he loved so much for the first time sitting around him with loving gazes. Ford closed his eyes and wept happily, thankful for the two little children that had given him and Stanley a new lease on life.

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