#gigisgoode

[artificialqueens]

Cheeks Are Flushing (Now You’re Living) (Daya Betty x Lady Camden) - Gigisgoode

A/N: I’m back back back again! In this fic Daya experiences a hypoglycaemic attack caused by diabetes. I do not claim to be an expert on diabetes or its symptoms so please read with a pinch of salt and remember that I am not a scientist (insert katya gif). You can read on A03 under the same username if you prefer!

Daya knows she should’ve seen it coming, knew that the shakiness in her hands wasn’t just an after-effect of the lipsync, that the blurriness of her vision had nothing to do with the coloured contacts she was wearing. The dull thump of her head counteracted the racing of her heart, but all she wanted was to sleep. And Camden.

Camden, who always made sure Daya had her testing kit on her, stashing a chocolate bar in her jean pocket in case she dropped. Camden, who’d bundle anyone up in a blanket and stroke their hair the moment she saw one of her sisters feeling unwell or sad. Camden, who’d happily do all of that for Daya right now, if she was here.

But she wasn’t.

It was just her and Deja, and as much as Daya knew Deja would hold her hand and make her drink cola through a straw, sit with her until the trembling stopped and her heart rate returned to normal, she didn’t want her. The logical part of Daya’s brain that told her she may not have enough time to wait for Camden to come back, that the time before her trembling was noticeable to even the most unaware eye was short, was clouded over by her desire for the British queen and so Daya resided herself to sitting quietly, watching the screen with as much energy as she could muster up, waiting for Camden to walk back through the workroom door.

/

RuPaul was torturing her, Daya was sure of it. Willow and Jorgeous had both been declared safe, with the pink-haired girl still up for elimination. The shakiness of her hands had gotten worse, and Daya could now feel tears pricking the back of her eyes at both the possibility of Camden being sent home, and the thought of having to wait any longer for her. Her head was becoming too heavy to hold up, the tiredness of Daya’s body fighting itself beginning to overtake her need for Camden, now simply seeking any pair of arms and a soft bed.

Daya’s mind drifts and she’s quiet, the pounding of her heart stealing what little breath she had left, before she thinks she hears RuPaul calls Camden’s name, but she’s too out of it to be sure. There’s shrieks and clapping before she knows what happens next and if she was more coherent she’d be unashamedly staring at Camden’s toned stomach and long legs as she performed, but her eyes were staring straight through the screen long after the lipsync ended.

/

The buzz of the screen blanking caused Daya to zone back in and she tries to join in with the conversation going on around her, tries not to project her desire for Camden out loud, even though her lips are tingling and she’s not sure if she’s slurring her words, and how time is running out before her symptoms start getting worse and she’s passing out on the workroom floor.

The room erupts into cheers but all she can focus on is the haze of pink she can see out of her blurred eyes, and on instinct alone she’s clambering off of the sofa, almost selfishly just ready to be held despite Camden’s tears of relief, feet clumsily tripping over each other in her haste to reach the other queen.

She doesn’t know who reaches who first but the second Daya’s in Camden’s arms she sags, feet giving out from under her as Camden rushes to catch her around the waist, holding Daya’s weight against her own chest as she tries to lift the younger girl’s head.

‘Shit. Betty, Bets, come on, look at me,’ Camden pleads, heart racing in her throat as the adrenaline from the performance fades but her anxiety for the half-dead girl in their arms spiking. She shouts for Deja, who is immediately rummaging through Daya’s belongings, trying to find her testing kit, Camden immediately knowing that that was the problem.

Between them they manage to find it, and after watching Daya do it countless times, Deja is confident enough to perform the test whilst Camden holds her still. However, just as Deja goes to prick the girl’s finger, Daya’s eyes flutter open and Camden’s immediately onto her, holding her chin up to meet her concerned gaze.

Confused and dizzy, Daya struggles to meet the other queens eyes, brain not cohesive enough to realise who was holding her or what had happened. The other girls had all rushed over to congratulate and comfort Camden but after making sure Camden had the tall girl secure in her arms and that Daya wasn’t about to hit the floor were now mostly giving the pair some space, except for Deja who hovered nervously, test kit still in her hand. Her vision is swimming as she prises her eyes fully open but she’s able to make out the soft accent whispering to her, the warm hand on her waist.

‘Cam?’

‘I’m here, Betty, I’ve got you,’ the British queen comforts, hands running up and down Daya’s arm to try and calm her almost violent trembles. Camden scans her over, taking in the other physical symptoms she can see- face paling even through her makeup, heart beating furiously against her chest, eyes closing despite themselves. Camden almost feels angry at the girl gripping onto her top, knowing she must’ve felt the symptoms come on before they became this bad, but understands that Daya’s fear of vulnerability meant Camden was grateful she would at least be open with someone about it.

With Deja’s help Camden got Daya settled on the floor, back resting against Camden’s chest, Camden’s knees holding the younger queen up straight, a safety barrier should she faint again. The change in position made Daya shake uncontrollably, Jorgeous leaning down to cover her over in her blanket, Camden using her arms as a bracket around Daya’s chest, fearing the way she shook was so intense she would faceplant the floor.

‘Babe, hey, we need to test your sugars, yeah? Find out how low you are and get you sorted out, okay? Camden negotiated, trying to unfurl one of Daya’s fists from the death grip it had on her top, a pang of guilt going straight to her heart when the other queen whimpered, turning to bury her face in Camden’s shoulder.

Daya tried to protest, curl her hands back into her blanket and go to sleep, tried to make her stupid tingling lips and her tongue that felt way too big for her mouth work to make words, but barely able to let out a sound of discontentment, her attempt at speech slurred when she felt a prick on her left pointer finger and she started to sob.

‘Hey, hey- B you’re okay,’ Camden attempted to console, pulling Daya’s head back down to rest on her chest, not even minding the mascara tears that were sure to stain her outfit. Camden knew that the slur to Daya’s speech and her tearfulness coupled with the dizziness and shakes were sure fire signs her sugars were way, way too low and when the reading came through, Camden almost bit through her lip.

‘Fuck,’ she turns to Deja. ‘This is the lowest I’ve ever known her go, no wonder she passed out.’

She sent the other queens running off in different directions, all in search of anything sugary, whilst Deja stayed, working in tandem with Camden to rouse Daya.

‘Come on sugar, I’ve got you. You need to stay awake for me, yeah? Willow’s gone to find you a snack and you’re gonna feel so much better in a few minutes baby, just need you to stay with me until she gets back, okay?

Jorgeous and Willow both burst back through the doors just as Daya’s head begins to fall back and she loses the fight with consciousness again. They shower Camden in sugary snacks and drinks and she’s breaking into a can of something orange and fizzy whilst Deja rips open a candy bar for her and begins to break it into pieces.

Willow helps to hold Daya’s chin up, Jorgeous holding onto Daya’s hand that Camden had to let go of to put a straw into the cold drink. Gently the straw is guided into her mouth and she’s urged to drink, praise immediately bestowed upon her when she manages to keep a little bit down. Camden knows she’s in no fit state to try to eat anything yet, so she keeps up her encouragement and slowly helps Daya to drink around half the can until her hands are no longer uncontrollably shaking and slight awareness comes back into her eyes.

‘There you are!’ Cam smiles, relief flooding through her as Daya is able to grab onto her bicep with only a slight shudder. ‘How are you feeling, baby?’

It still takes Daya a moment to find her words, but eventually she lets out a quiet ‘dizzy’ and Camden’s picking up the can and holding the straw to her lips again, not satisfied until she could feel it was empty.

Daya comes back to herself in time after finishing the drink, firstly realising her corset had been taken off, before seeing the small mountain of candy bars on the floor. It dawns upon her slowly and then all at once, feeling slightly ashamed she had let herself cause this much of a scene because she was too scared to tell the other girls how she was feeling.

‘Is, is- is my sugar low?’ she mumbles, trying to grasp Camden’s hand.

‘Way too low, Betty. You know you can’t let it get that low, it’s a good job I caught you in time or you’d have broken an ankle fainting in those platforms,’ Camden lightly scolded, no emotion other than concern behind her words.

‘M sorry,’ Daya whispers, voice laced with guilt at the thought of having worried Camden, eyes gleaming with tears.

‘Baby, no, Betty don’t cry, it’s okay,’ Camden coos, delicately drying under Daya’s eyes with the pads of her thumbs. ‘You just scared me, that’s all. You need to eat something, are you feeling okay enough to try?’

After a slightly hesitant go-ahead nod, Deja passes Camden the bar she’d broken up into bitesize pieces for Daya and Camden wordlessly holds a small sliver up to Daya’s lips, holds her against her chest as she chews it slowly, whispering gentle praise into her ear as she sees her get steadier and more stable with each bite she takes.

Somewhere around piece 5 she weakly pushes Camden’s hand away and mumbles something about feeling nauseous when Camden’s concerned face comes into view, but her shakes are almost gone and the deathly pallor of her skin has faded, simply leaving her exhausted as the emotional and physical strain of the day catches up to her. She’s crawling closer to Camden’s chest before she’s hauled up on still slightly unsteady legs and walked over to the sofa, Camden carefully taking on her weight. She’s laid down once the nausea has settled and her new favourite blanket draped over her as Willow comes into her eyeline with a makeup wipe and starts removing her false lashes and eyeliner before she can fall asleep. Camden’s right next to her, a supportive hand resting on Daya’s back as she prepares to watch over her while she slept but then there’s grabby, acrylic-clad hands clawing at her and after Deja promises Camden she’ll test Daya’s sugars again, Camden can’t resist pulling Daya’s blanket up and crawling down next to her, letting Daya wriggle around her until her head was on Camden’s chest and her long legs stuck out over the arm of the sofa, immediately falling asleep as Camden stroked through her hair, a sigh leaving both of them as they were finally able to relax.

[moonshotsx]

13: bosco demon au❤️

hi babes!

so, i already did some sex headcanons for them, you can find them here! 🥰

[zwritestuff]

I finally got around to making an account for AO3, any suggestions on where i should start ? i read one story and i’m still crying so i’ll take any happy or sad shi t

hello nony!! welcome to the ao3 family 💗 my first instinct would be plugging the profiles of the jankie candle gays, and mines ofc. so here, a quick rundown:

yours truly/chachkisalpaca - read my shit if you like soft idiot lesbians xx

meg/aries - her stuff is so wonderfully written, leather & lace is a must read!

ella/dawningofdrag - queen of making you cry or making you soft, no in between

 lily/jackiescox -  your local sport and history gay, her fics are so detailed you feel as if you’re watching a movie. learning to be silent is a MUST READ!

alex/hy_hinkx - your local grammar enthusiast! alex’s characterization is *chef kiss*, definitely worth reading her stories!

macaroni/artificialmac - honestly you got content for DAYS with mac’s writing. i’ve been reading her stuff since i was a baby in the fandom and her writing does nothing but get better with each fic

winter/soulfulwinter - CEO of aristique and jan/rock. very soft, gay content for days!

emerald/bleedingxend - french queen!! read their stuff for good throuples and accurate french 

tiktok lily/sashavelou - she just has 3 fics up but all three are good!! i know, i beta-ed one myself and she didn’t need my help 😌

molly/artificialperidot - irish queen!! i love everything about her writing, it’s so sweet and it feels like a hug from someone you love 💗

zoe/imposterzoe - oh baby let me tell you right from the start that zoe is UNDERRATED. her fics are amazing and they deserve tons of love, pls give it to them

cassie/porg_galore - they have a little bit of everything! branjie and s12 fics, and all are great, definitely worth the read!

pia/TheUnicornGirl - pia’s a poetry goddess!! and she also has some good stories, mostly branjie if that floats your boat!

meggie/artificialmeggie - meggie is a writing GODDESS and everything she writes is so flawlessly done, her way of convening emotions is BEYOND ME

rainbow/rainbowvelour - just one of her fics is on ao3, but if you want to read more you can always look at @artificialqueens and search for her tag “Rainbow.”

as of today, these are the only jankie candle members that have/write on ao3 and if, for some reason, none of us float your boat, i suggest reading any of the works of atresia ( @a-tresia ), pinkgrapefruit ( @pink-grapefruit-cafe ), thorpe ( @freykitten ), gigisgoode, ashley ( @artificialashley ) and masongrey for some nostalgia, though i’m definitely leaving out tons of great authors that don’t use ao3, that’s a list for some other day - meanwhile you can check my fics recs tag!

have fun! xo

[mypersonalgifdumpster]

Found it on instagram @gigisgoode

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by bebe bad (@gigisgoode) on Mar 24, 2020 at 5:11pm PDT

[rosenallies]

Hi, I hope I’ve got the right blog- I’m looking for harlotstarlet on AO3. I write under gigisgoode and just wanted to let you know that someone has completely ripped off ‘when all is lost and plundered...’ on Wattpad. Here’s the link- https://www.wattpad.com/1074339410-rpdr-oneshots-3-tough-night-cherryxellie . I recognised it immediately as your work and just wanted to let you know because the same thing happened to me on Wattpad just recently. Xx

Hi! Thank you for letting me know, I appreciate it!!

[artificialqueens]

Back To The Middle (And Around Again) (Rosnali) - Gigisgoode (fka Katy)

A/N: Hiya babs, here’s some Rosé and Denali fluffy goodness for you all. Set around the events from untucked ep 4. I have a few more works on here under this pen name from a long time ago, and I’m putting a couple on AO3 generally before I update here, so check me out at gigisgoode if you prefer to read there!! Hope you enjoy 💗

Denali’s eyes have been darting around the werk room for what to Rosé

feels like hours now, looking for a kind place to land; desperately seeking a home where she can fall apart in safety. She’s barely present, her hand trembles around her cocktail and she doesn’t even notice when Rosé sets it down on the table, knowing that ostrich feathers weren’t cheap and it was one thing to have to lipsync, but another to have to do it covered in vodka cranberry. The conversation around her goes in one ear and out the other as her brain is all feathers and rose and dance moves and rose and lyrics to a song she’s been performing for years, but she just can’t remember what comes after the first chorus, she just can’t, she can’t.

Rosé’s in full mother mode and it’s freaking her out, feels like she’s watching her crying kid go into nursery and knowing she’s got to leave him there. There’s nothing she wants more than to go and calm Denali, to go and soothe the storm in her head that Rose can tell even from a distance is hurtling around in her mind. But she can’t.

Because what if Denali breaks. What if her knees buckle in her metaphorical skates and she falls. She can’t wipe the tears away; hold her against her chest until her heart returns to its regular rhythm with all the other girls looking. She will not be this season’s Crygi. She needs Denali to be strong, but from the way Rosé can see her blankly staring at her tissue as a streak of eyeliner runs down her cheek, she doesn’t think she’s going to get so lucky.

The conversation ends. Kahmora has all of the Porkchop girls in a group hug, and whilst Rosé doesn’t want to lose her sister first either, no one else was going to see her hand gently grasp Denali’s in the midst of all that tulle.

They pull away. LaLa goes to listen to her iPod, Kandy’s entertaining the others. She’s desperate. She’ll contemplate whether she’s Brooke Lynn or Vanessa later because Denali needs her. There’s a wistful, far away look in Denali’s eyes and she will not deny her any longer.

‘Nali, baby’, she whispers, a hand falling to her hip as Denali turns to face her. Rosé could’ve lost it there and then from feeling the tremors running through Denali’s body as she pulls her closer, one hand around her waist and the other resting on her back of her head, her thumb softly stroking as she gently shushes her.

Her eyes are closed and just as Rosé is about to speak again, she stumbles.

‘I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t even look at you right now.’

Her words hit Rosé like a fucking baseball bat. She can’t even begin to process them though because Denali’s fumbling again, her hands shakily trying to grasp Rosé’s jacket to ground herself, muttering to herself that she just can’t.

‘You don’t even have to look at me, you know? You don’t have to look at me right now, and you wanna know why?’

Rose’s stability, her calmness, her kindness, gives Denali the confidence she needs to look up at Rosé for the first time that evening from underneath her fringe.

‘You wanna know why?’ Rosé laughs, her right hand coming up to cup Denali’s cheek.

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re gonna have a lot of time to look at me, alright, baby?’

Denali couldn’t help but smile, and Rosé knew she had managed to stop the avalanche. Now, she thought, just to rebuild the mountain.

‘You really beat me the last time we did this, okay? I mean, you realllly beat me and that’s fierce. I want you to do exactly what you did then, go into it with the same energy and the same passion and give it everything you’ve got.’

Denali sniffles and tries to blink her tears back.

‘I have a set plan of everything I want to do. All the moves and tricks I was saving until the end of this competition are coming out today.’

‘I know you do baby, that’s good’ Rosé reassures, reaching out to take hold of both of Denali’s hands. She lowers her tone to even softer than a whisper before she steps forward and says

‘I need you to do this not just for you, okay, I need you to do this for me too because I really need you here with me.’

A soft gasp escapes Denali’s throat and she looks up at Rosé with glistening eyes, whether that was from the tears or something else.

‘I know we can both make it to the top, together. So tonight you have to fight, for both of us to make it there. I know you can do it. You know you can do it. Go out and there and kill it.

The sentiment is final, a kiss goodbye, and they pull away after a lingering hug.

‘You know what to do.’

[artificialqueens]

Pretty Please (Crystal x Gigi) - Katy

A/N: hi everyone, I used to post on here back in the day but this is my first fic this year. This is written about a real life experience I actually had, where I told the girl sitting next to me in maths class (who I had a huge crush on) that I just didn't feel well, and was not in fact having the worst panic attack of my life, and when she helped me leave the room to go the the medical room, i proceeded to faint down an entire flight of stairs :). And no, we did not get together. So here's what I wish had actually happened lmao. If you enjoyed please leave me a comment or like, I really enjoyed writing this so I may be persuaded to do more ;)

Gigi inhaled, a short shaky breath that rattled her lungs and left her nauseous. She knew she was panicking, the familiar feeling that settled between her ribs, constricting her airflow with each quiver of her hand, but letting the others know that she was panicking, was not an option.

She sat in the corner of the Untucked lounge, heels off and headphones in, the Katy Perry track on repeat. She knows she fucked up the challenge, and she wasn’t proud of it, her limited political knowledge finally catching up to her. Her teeth chattered as she tried to mime the words, preparing herself for what she knew would be her first time in the bottom two, but her brain and her mouth wouldn’t connect and she let out an audible whimper.

Jackie and Widow were just steps away from her, but both were in a completely different state of mind, with Jackie pinning her hijab to her dress, and Widow immersed in her final rehearsal of the lipsync song, strong actions and emotive faces. She prayed Jaida or Heidi didn’t hear her, because as much as she loved them, there was only one person she wanted.

Crystal was sat on the sofa; legs crossed and smile bright as she laughed animatedly at Heidi, arms flailing. She wasn’t looking at Gigi, and Gigi couldn’t work out whether that was a blessing or a curse.

Talking about feelings was not Gigi’s strong point, nor expressing vulnerability, making her and Crystal the perfect pair. They balanced each other out, the calm to the storm. And right now, Gigi was certain that a hurricane was coming.

Her eyes were wide and glassy, staring at the back of Crystal’s blue wig, frozen with fear. All of the blood plummets to the soles of her feet, and she puts her head between her knees to try and curb the overwhelming dizziness surrounding her. She can’t remember what happened next, the edges of her memories hazy with anxiety, but then Crystal is there.

Crystal is here.

She knelt down beside Gigi, quickly discarding her heels and blazer over the back of the sofa. There’s a hand on the small of Gigi’s back, and she flinches, before quickly calming as Crystal hooks a finger under her chin, and raises her head to meet her gaze. Gigi hears mumblings of ‘sweetheart, look at me’ and ‘what’s going on, babe?’ before she realises she’s being scooped up by Crystal and taken outside, blowing a thankful kiss at Jackie, who’s moved to hold the door open for Crystal so she can get her out. Out of the hot, overwhelming room that Crystal knew she had to remove Gigi from, as soon as she glanced over and saw her, curled into herself and breathing unsteadily.

She’s placed on the ground outside the smoking area, Crystal supporting her weight as she gently helps Gigi place her head back between her legs, almost being able to see the stars swirling around in Gigi’s head. There’s a supportive hand on her shoulder, and as soon as she hears the mumble of ‘feel sick, Crys’, there’s a cool palm immediately on her forehead. Gigi already knew that she didn’t have a fever, but the harsh reality she’d have to face of telling Crystal what was actually going on, was enough to stress herself into a high body temperature, and soon Crystal’s pulling her hand away, sighing softly.

The high pitched whimper Gigi makes is enough to stop Crystal’s heart beating. It’s fragile, it’s vulnerable, and it’s so not Gigi.

Then there’s sobs.

Huge, gut-wrenching sobs that make Gigi’s hands shake more so than they were, her chest heaving in ragged breaths as she tries to calm herself down, stop making a fool of herself in front of her crush. There’s a long, drawn out ‘baby’ releasing itself from Crystal’s throat, and before she can stop herself, she’s reaching over and cradling Gigi in her lap, stroking her wig away from her face, shushing her gently. She’s rocking the taller girl back and forth, praying she’s not making her dizziness any worse, humming under her breath.

Time passes, but Gigi’s sobs are getting louder and sadder, and Crystal’s worried she’s about to start hyperventilating any second.

She doesn’t have a huge amount of experience comforting others, as the so lovingly named ‘cry baby’ of the group, it’s normally her being comforted by Gigi or Jackie. Everything Crystal wants when she’s upset, she’s trying with Gigi, from rubbing her back to running her hands through her wig, but she can’t get her to calm down and she’s beginning to run out of ideas.

She tries once more. Crystal starts slowly, taking both of her hands and cupping Gigi’s face, raising her head from its place on Crystal’s chest. The change of position makes Gigi’s head spin, and she’s falling weightlessly back against Crystal’s body before she’s even registered what was happening. Gigi blinks her eyes up at Crystal, who’s leaning closer and closer to her face, and then she felt it.

Lips against hers. MAC on Anastasia. Cherry red on cherry red.

She can’t fucking breathe.

She runs.

She’s nauseous and lightheaded and still not breathing properly, but that’s all out of the window as Gigi desperately tries to process her feelings. She wants this. Why was she running from it? She reaches the staircase inside leading to the lounge, drapes herself over the bannister in a futile attempt to stay upright. Crystal’s running behind her, calling Gigi’s name, telling her to stop, she’s going to hurt herself.

Crystal sees Gigi leaning heavily on the staircase, heart in her throat as she desperately tries to reach her before the inevitable happens.

Thud.

Crystal’s screams echo through to the Untucked lounge, and Jackie runs out just in time to grab onto the arm of Gigi’s coat, as Crystal dives in and clamps her hands around Gigi’s waist, catching her just inches away from hitting the floor. Gigi’s as pale as a ghost, sweat glistening on her forehead and upper lip, heart thumping against Crystal, who’s precariously balanced on a single step, Gigi in her arms.

Crystal feels outside of her body. Jackie’s crouched next to her, prying Gigi’s upper half away from Crystal and into her arms, fearing from the look on Crystal’s face, that she would be the next to drop. Then Jackie’s moving, laying Gigi carefully onto the floor, unlacing her corset, sliding off her wig. Gigi’s completely out of it, but letting out soft, regular breaths for the first time that evening. The sound of Jackie’s heels clicking against the floor as she’s running out of the room, and returning with a fan and a bottle of water breaks Crystal out of her trance and she’s standing, moving to sit by Gigi’s head.

Crystal’s crying, her tears dripping down into Gigi’s hair as Jackie hands her a tissue, reminds her to breathe, tells her one casualty is enough.

She hasn’t had time to process everything that’s just happened, and honestly was feeling close to an anxiety attack herself, but she looked down and saw Gigi’s eyes beginning to flutter. Jackie takes Gigi’s hand, strokes over her knuckles with her painted thumb, asks if Gigi can hear her. Her eyes flutter twice more before she’s awake. Confused and disorientated, Gigi pushes herself up into a sitting position, before a rushed ‘No, Gee, you need to lay back down’ is heard and there’s Jackie’s hand on her chest, easing her back onto the floor, and Crystal’s hand tangles in her hair.

Gigi can’t see Crystal, too busy trying to get her eyes to concentrate on Jackie. Sweet, caring Jackie who’s grabbed her a blanket from set, draped it over her the second she saw her teeth clicking together.

Gigi’s mind was hazy, and she had no clear recollection of what had happened for her to be lying on the dirty floor next to the staircase, before she remembers.

Crystal.

‘Jacks’, Gigi mumbles. ‘Where’s Crystal?’

Jackie and Crystal lock eyes before Jackie’s nodding, squeezing Gigi’s knee and walking back into Untucked, and Crystal’s scooting into Gigi’s vision line. ‘Gigi, I’m here, you’re okay’.

Their eyes meet and Crystal sees Gigi let out a huge breath, her eyes beginning to glisten, so she takes her hand in both of hers and rubs the tension out of it. ‘You’re okay’, Crystal promises again.

‘What happened?’

‘You passed out, darling. You were having an anxiety attack and you tried to run, but this is as far as you got.’

‘I wasn’t having a panic attack, I felt sick.’

‘Gee, don’t lie to me.’

Crystal looks up and Gigi’s in tears, again. Crystal gently scoops her up from the floor, positions her in a somewhat upright position in her lap, and combs her hand through Gigi’s hair.

‘Why was I running?’

‘Because I kissed you.’

They lock eyes, the tension sitting heavy between their chests. Crystal heaves in a huge breath, about to spew everything she feels about Gigi out in one sentence before Gigi beat her to it.

Lips against lips.

They sit, limbs intertwined and lips together, until they hear the dreaded announcement of ‘5 minutes to go, ladies.’

‘You sure you’re gonna be okay if you have to lipsync Gigi? You won’t be in the bottom two, but just in case you are. We can tell production if you’re still feeling lightheaded,’ Crystal reassures.

‘I am still feeling dizzy.’

‘Oh, baby, okay, let’s go and tell the crew,’ Crystal starts, before Gigi cuts her off.

‘No, babe, I’m kidding. I just want you to carry me back into the room.’

Crystal chuckles before standing up, pulling Gigi into her chest like a goddamn koala, leaving a huge red lipstick kiss on her forehead.

‘Don’t ever, ever, scare me like that again.’

[artificialqueens]

I Got Nothing (But My Aching Soul) (Crygi) - Katy

A/N: please please read the trigger warnings before reading. I in no way am attempting to romanticise eating disorders, I suffer from them myself. Xx

Gigi doesn’t have an eating disorder, or a problem with food, or whatever other romanticised term you want to use.

The number on the scales represents her commitment; her dedication to her artistry, how far she was willing to take it. She tells herself there’s nothing wrong with being a workaholic. Crystal tells her she needs paid leave and a vacation from her brain.

Her ritual was the same every morning, whilst Crystal was still asleep in bed, Gigi would quietly roll out of Crystal’s bear-like hold, close and lock the bathroom door, and strip. It’s just so the number’s accurate, she tells herself, and not like the extra 0.1g of her keeping her shorts on would send her into a mental breakdown.

She’s 6’2” and a hundred and fourteen pounds of shame.

The shower’s cold but Gigi’s blood runs colder. She’s sobbing, hoping that science got it wrong and that tears can shed calories. Crystal had made her breakfast, given her a hug before gently encouraging Gigi to eat at least half of the contents of the bowl. Every bite was akin to a gunshot, but at least that pain was visible on the outside.

If eating a spoonful of muesli was a bullet, then her body was a warzone. Crystal told her that her skin was the same colour as a milk bottle, but at least they had a small waist. She wore ‘blanket couture’- Gigi’s new fashion line consisting of dozens of fluffy blankets wrapped around her in some sort of sarong style dress, trying to keep herself warm. Her once voluminous, brunette hair fell out in clumps when damp and Gigi would flush it down the toilet once she’d finished brushing it. It was symbolic of something, she was sure. Maybe her soul leaving her body, but maybe just her dinner.

The thrill of Gigi’s corset being too big to reasonably cinch her in anymore made her cry of happiness. Crystal sat in the bathroom and cried too.

She was a worrier by heart, a carer by nature. There wasn’t a bad bone in Crystal’s body and Gigi cared about her in a way she would never care about herself. She didn’t know how to help her girlfriend. She wasn’t a nutritionist, or a therapist but she was filled with patience and kindness and could only hope that it was enough.

Gigi started walking to her gigs, her suitcase full of drag the only thing keeping her upright, the only standing between her and the floor. She loved the club; vodka was lower in calories than anything Crystal forced into her mouth, and she could easily blame the puking on it too. Dancing burnt up her body fat, and she’d walk home in the early hours of the morning with a warm heart and an empty stomach.

99 pounds was the goal. The double digits excited her. She’d be happy then.

It was early evening on a Friday in late March when Crystal got the call. She dropped her phone on her foot and ran out to her car with no shoes on. Her hands shook as she grasped the wheel, praying to any god that would listen.

She found her on the pavement about 6 miles from the club. Her skin was deathly blue, the ice that had built up in her digestive system for not being used in so long was seeping out of her veins. Her jaw was sharp enough to cut her thighs open, eyes sunken into her gaunt face. Gigi was also covered in her own puke, but that was the least of Crystal’s worries as she scooped her up, a wretched whimper leaving her throat when she lifted Gigi with absolute ease into the back of the car.

They sat in the bath together, Crystal holding Gigi with force; scared she’d slip under. She couldn’t even hold her own head up, it lulled drowsily on Crystal’s chest as she cleaned her girlfriend up. She wrapped Gigi in a towel, almost losing her cool when it wrapped twice around her body with room to spare, and sat her down carefully on the bed.

Crystal talked. Gigi cried. Crystal also cried.

Crystal wrapped her up, held her tight in her arms, rocked her soothingly to calm the mania bouncing through her veins.

Gigi puked a couple more times into her own lap, screaming and jostling violently when Crystal had to put her down to grab a towel.

She laid Gigi down, drowned her in blankets, scared that she’d freeze to death overnight and held her like it was the last time.

Lana Del Rey’s Young and Beautiful played as they left the church. It was raining, because of course it was, and Crystal’s black dress shone with wet droplets from the sky.

It’s okay, Geeg. No more tears.

[artificialqueens]

Baby We Made It (Jankie) - Katy

A/N: please forgive me, anon, whose bodiposi! Jan prompt I took from here and made it sad. I promise the last paragraph at least is happy. Also smut writers, please forgive me. I kept it short because I can’t write write anything other than mental breakdowns and sad people for the life of me. Let me know if you enjoyed! X

Jan absentmindedly stood in front of the full-length antique mirror in her and Jackie’s bedroom, fingers running over the dips of her stomach, the stark contrast between the softness of her skin and the slight itchiness of the lace trim on her panties bringing her back to the present.

She’d seen comments, again. Not about how she was robbed of the Rusical win, or how she owns the colour purple, Shuga Cain be screwed.

But about the way her thighs now meet in the middle. How her stomach isn’t perfectly flat, her ass a little rounder, her arms a little bigger. The pressure she felt before going to Drag Race was off, and now, with Jackie making love and Iranian dishes she remembers from her childhood, she was happy.

She knew the fans would notice, their eagle eyes catching every little detail, from when Jackie leant Gigi her earrings on the show, to the way someone had spotted her heels in the back of Jackie’s Instagram Live. It unsettled her at the best of times, so after perhaps the seventh time Jan had struggled to get into her jeans that month, she dreaded checking her social media.

Her fans were good, kind to her and to each other, bringing her bath bombs and fanart on tour. She knew they meant no harm. She knew that they’d be horrified to think they ever upset her. She knew that they had no idea that she burst into tears every time one of them asked her to wear one of her outfits from the show, thinking she’d bust the seams open and only be able to get it past her shoulders before she couldn’t tug it down any further.

She was more worried about the ones she couldn’t call fans. The ones who send anonymous confessions to those stupid Instagram pages that come up on her explore feed, those who hide behind private pages calling her a cry baby, questioning why she got on the show, and why she’d gotten so fat since drag race.

She’s not fat.

She’s not fat.

Tears begin to well in Jan’s eyes as she stares at herself with a critical glare. With trembling hands, she prods and pokes her body like she’s nothing but their words. She squeezes her arms, watches the way the skin tightens and releases, puts her hands on her waist and pushes her stomach as far inwards as possible. The faces of the haters have stick and poke tattooed themselves between her thighs, disfigured but still distinguishable, unprofessional yet very much permanent. Jackie will never look down there the same again.

Shit. Had Jackie noticed? Was she heavier when she sat on Jackie’s face in bed or her lap on the couch? Jackie wouldn’t want a fat girlfriend. Jackie deserved the world, as far as Jan was concerned. Love, cuddles, lavender oil scented baths, the left side of the bed.

Jan is so lost in her own mind that she’s completely oblivious to Jackie arriving home from the store, carrying shopping bags and a smile down the hallway, into the bedroom to find her girlfriend.

Jackie stops when she reaches the door, peeking her head in to check Jan wasn’t asleep before she barged in, knowing how Jan gets when she’s woken up from a nap. Her heart plummeted to the bottom of her feet when she saw Jan, and before her body could catch up to her mind, she was pushing the door open heavily and dropping her bags in sheer shock.

Stop.

Jackie stood in the doorframe, eyebrows knitted together with concern for her girlfriend, who was currently standing semi-naked, crying in front of the mirror. Jan’s feet were turning 180, forcing her to walk away, to get away from her reflection like it was flammable and her face was a open fucking flame.

Jackie.

She runs to Jackie, lets her lower her to the ground because she’s not convinced Jan’s legs are going to hold her upright much longer, lets Jackie pull her onto her lap, sees the absolute heartbreak in her eyes when she tries to scramble off because she’s ‘too heavy to hold’. Heat’s radiating off of Jan and Jackie almost wonders whether Jan’s in some sort of fever-induced delirium because there’s no way in hell she’s just heard Jan call herself heavy. Her tears won’t stop and she won’t let Jackie hold her and it’s breaking her heart. Jan’s face is buried in her hands, tears leaking out from between her fingers, and Jackie takes her chance. She stands, tiptoes over to behind Jan, and scoops her up into her arms in one fluid motion, holding her to her chest. Jan’s shaking and swatting and screaming for Jackie to put her down and Jackie’s internally doing all of the same actions out of fear and desperation. She’d never seen Jan like this, the younger girl being an effervescent light of energy and excitement. Jackie knew she had to start calming Jan down, whatever it took, before she ended up with an unconscious girlfriend and a broken heart.

Jackie supports Jan in one arm, wraps it securely around Jan’s waist and stars rifling through her shopping bags to find what she’d been so excited to come home and show her. The bag’s inside of another bag in typical organised Jackie style, and when she pulls it out, the receipt flies out over their heads and she thinks Jan may have stifled a giggle into her shoulder. Jackie’s bouncing Jan on her hip in such a child-like fashion, that when she takes out the delicately tissue paper-wrapped item, she presses it into Jan’s hands like a game of pass the parcel.

Jan snorts inelegantly, wipes her nose with the back of her hand and shifts in Jackie’s grasp until she’s facing her girlfriend. Jackie motions for Jan to open the gift, nudging her shoulder with a gentle hand. Jan’s acrylics rip the tissue paper, and she’s left staring at lingerie. Delicate lilac, adorned with lace and crystals and everything sparkly. The bralette is sheer and lacy, diamonds decorating the straps and clearly so very overpriced, but she can’t bring herself to care when Jackie’s lifting her chin with a careful finger, and they lock eyes for the first time since Jackie arrived home.

The tears come back thick and fast, wetting the lace with something other than pleasure, Jackie’s smile turns to a grimace as Jan begins mumbling how sorry and she is.

‘Baby’, Jackie starts, sitting them down on the bed. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I’m so sorry’ Jan hiccupped, her breath getting caught in her throat. ‘You’re so good, too good and I don’t deser-’

‘Stop’.

Jackie’s grip on her waist gets stronger and Jan tenses in fear, relaxing only when Jackie starts wiping Jan’s tears with the pad of her thumb. ‘Take a breath. You’ve got to start breathing properly before you talk, baby.’

They sit in silence for moments, minutes with Jan’s shaky breaths and Jackie’s slow counting the only noises.

‘I was reading Instagram comments and they were so fucking mean Jacks’.

Jackie’s eyes turn dark and her hands subconsciously squeeze Jan’s waist tighter and tighter until she has to unpeel Jackie’s fingers from around her, feeling an organ rupture or permanent crescent shaped nail indentations weren’t far off if she kept her grip up.

Jackie looks at Jan with an unreadable expression, before she’s pressing their foreheads together and locking her fingers at the base of Jan’s head, Jan seated in her lap. The tears still run freely from Jan’s eyes and in turn, they spill onto Jackie’s cheeks, sharing her pain.

‘What were they saying, baby?’

Jackie wasn’t stupid, by any means. She’d seen the comments on Jan’s Instagram, and after one mid-afternoon shower turned into Jackie’s fists repeatedly hitting the tiles like a makeshift punch bag, she vowed to herself she wouldn’t bring it up to Jan, her own futile effort to protect her girlfriend from the cruel world of fandoms and stans and biggest fans.

Sure, she’d noticed Jan’s stomach was a little squishier, her tits more rounded, but Jackie still, always, though she was perfect, no matter what.

Jan gasps in a huge breath, holds the air in her lungs before her mouth is running like a runaway train. She tells Jackie everything. How the sight of her stomach makes her want to cry, how the way her thighs press together makes her feel like she’s suffocating, how Jackie makes her believe she’s beautiful but she can’t help but listen more to the guy on social media with 14 followers and a car that’s definitely not his as his profile picture, telling her that she needs to go on a diet.

Jackie’s in shock. Her whole body goes rigid, stiff to the touch and she hears nothing but Jan’s sobs vibrating through her ears. She’s so completely overwhelmed that it isn’t until Jan starts hiccupping, the lack of steady breathing but the steady fall of tears catching up to her, that Jackie zones back in and internally curses herself for not being in the moment.

Jan’s next coherent thought is that she’s being moved, lying down under the covers with Jackie pulling her head down to lay on Jackie’s now topless chest. The skin on skin contact is too much in her current state of sensitivity, and she whines, moving to instead lie next to Jackie.

Jackie knows she needs to give Jan a minute, but every second she’s not holding her whilst she’s this upset is torturous, and eventually when Jan’s hand starts seeking Jackie’s under the blankets, she pulls Jan into her arms and kisses her softly.

‘Jackie?’

‘What is it, baby?’

‘I’m so sorry.’

Jackie’s lips smash themselves into Jan’s, not wanting to hear anymore of Jan’s needless apologies. She curls an arm around Jan’s waist, pulling her closer until they’re pressed flush together, Jan laying on top of Jackie.

Jackie’s hand moves down Jan’s body until she reaches her bra, gently tugging on the strap to ask permission.

Jan’s brain goes into overdrive, and the desire to put a huge hoodie on to cover her body is insane, but then she remembers. This is Jackie. Her Jackie. Her Jackie doesn’t care about being able to fit two fingers around Jan’s wrist, how big her tits are, what dress size she wears. Her Jackie loves her, no matter what.

Jan nods and tries unsuccessfully to help Jackie remove her bra, as she grabs both of Jan’s wrists in her hand, and tells her ‘No, baby. Relax. Let me make you feel beautiful.’

Jackie rids herself of her jeans and flips them over, Jan now lying on a sea of pillows as she presses their chests together, intertwining their arms and legs, with just the lace of their panties separating their bodies. She cups Jan’s jaw, smiles at her with childlike innocence, yet X rated lust filters through her eyes as she wedges her thigh between Jan’s legs.

Jan lets out a breathy moan at the unexpected action, and attempts to grind down to gain friction. Jackie lets herself be used, reminds herself that this is all about Jan.

‘Let me tell you something, baby’ Jackie whispers as she moves up to hold Jan’s face.

‘You may not agree with me right now, but I want you to know how perfect you are, to me. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet. I need you to understand that you are beautiful, and nobody can tell you otherwise.’

There’s a stray tear leaking out of Jan’s left eye, and Jackie quickly swipes it before it can fall, and then she’s moving down Jan’s body to play with her quickly hardening nipples.

‘These tits, baby? Are so fucking sexy’ Jackie emphasises, swirling her tongue around Jan’s right nipple, taking it into her mouth and sucking to hear Jan let out a series of exquisite, high-pitched moans. ‘They look so good when you wear those dresses with the low neckline, but they look especially good like this.’ Jackie pinches Jan’s nipples, hard, and she almost screams in pleasure, but before she can plead with Jackie to do it again again again, Jackie’s lips are travelling down towards her stomach, pressing kisses into the soft skin. Her hands trace the lines of her curves, and Jan almost starts crying again at the tenderness and care of Jackie’s movements. This was probably Jan’s most hated area of her body, and she conveyed that to Jackie through her eyes falling closed, not wanting to look. ‘Do you know how comfy your stomach is to lay on, honey? So damn comfy. I swear you have the softest skin in the whole world,’ Jackie starts, punctuating each sentence with hundreds of little kisses to the area. Jan’s body jolts, and Jackie immediately stops, moving back up and cradling Jan’s head.

‘Baby, your jean size doesn’t define you.’

The tears return and Jackie holds her through it, stroking her hair soothingly and whispering comforting words of reassurance. Once she’s sure Jan is okay, she starts moving back down, towards Jan’s thighs, and looks up, mouthing an ‘Okay?’ to Jan, before she spreads her legs.

Jackie peppers kisses to the inside of Jan’s thighs, and much to the amusement of the girl above her, tells Jan that her favourite thing about her thighs is the way they bracket around her head. Jan laughs at that, but before too long, Jackie’s hand is inching towards the waistband of her knickers, and the huge, breathy moan that escapes Jan’s mouth when Jackie dips her fingers under it lets her know what she needs now.

‘Jan, you’re so gorgeous baby. Especially here.’

Her panties were on the floor, and so was her jaw. Jackie’s tongue circled her clit whilst two long fingers entered her and began scissoring her opening. The vibrations of Jackie humming around her clit made her moan brokenly, and she pushed down onto Jackie’s fingers, desperate to be filled. Jackie crooked a third into her and Jan was gone, back arching, hips bucking, hands shaking. Jackie licked her through it, her hands on Jan’s hips to ground her, an attempt to stop the girl from falling off the bed in her relentless pleasure.

Once Jan was settled, a dreamy smile and wide eyes, Jackie crawled up to Jan and wrapped her in her arms. ‘How you feeling, baby?’ Jackie questioned.

‘Beautiful.’

Jan wore crop tops and mini skirts for the next two weeks, figure hugging bodycon dresses and jeans her new go-to. She’d broken the antique mirror that night, and they replaced it with a new one that her and Jackie spent all afternoon gluing post-it notes to, little notes of encouragement. Jackie told her she was beautiful, every morning and night, even on harder days when despite her team working hard to filter through Jan’s comments, she’d see something and get upset.

It got better. Jan learned to love the body she was in.

It’s different now cause I love the mirror every time.

[artificialqueens]

prompt: soft camden/daya getting high together

💚

[artificialqueens]

For gigisgoode—I LOVED that Camden/Daya fic, would love to read more with them being cute or fluffy or with hurt/comfort vibes

💖

[artificialqueens]

For prompts—I’m loving Camgeria and love fluff and hurt/comfort

💕

[artificialqueens]

just thought I’d pop in a quick note to warn Rosenali writers that wattpad users are stealing massive elements of stories on here and AO3 and claiming them as their own. Just had one of mine completely ripped off by someone on there, along with elements from other rosenali fics whose writers i’m about to contact. don’t want it to happen to anyone else.- Gigisgoode 💗

Thank you for the warning love!!

[artificialqueens]

i have started a sickfic rose x Denali for the lovely anon who requested!! - gigisgoode

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134074/chapters/71522892

Here’s the link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134074/chapters/71522892

Feel free to submit any finished stories as AO3 links. 💖

[artificialqueens]

That Rosé x Denali sickfic was everything I needed and more!! So sweet, so soft.... just fucking amazing. Gigisgoode, you are my absolute fave! ❤️

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[artificialqueens]

to gigisgoode - i would honestly love to see you expand on your initial rosnali oneshot, see how they'd navigate their relationship in the context of the competition! Your first fic has me absolutely hooked and i'd love love love love love to see more!

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