Trans-Male Imagines

1. Jughead Jones III

Hey there, readers (if there are any...)! Welcome to my book. A quick A/N- This book is gonna start off pretty heavy, but I needed to get this off my chest. Based off true events, minus the Jughead of course.

Warnings- Self-harm, panic/anxiety attacks, non-accepting parent.

(Y/N)- Your Name

(Y/B/N)- Your Birth Name

You sigh heavily as you tuck the razorblades back in their hiding place, before starting the tap and running your wrists under cold water. You hiss as it touches the open cuts, blood trickling into the basin of the sink. You wrap your arm in bandages, wincing, and slide a hoodie over your head, pulling the sleeves over your hands. You can't help but choke on unshed tears as you look in the mirror. Voices scream from behind your eyes.

Stupid. Freak. Weird. Pretender. Girl.

You wipe your eyes on your sleeves, picking up your backpack as you walk downstairs. Your (parent) waves to you as you walk out the door.

"Have a good day, (Y/B/N)! I love you!"

You scoff. No, you think . You love (Y/B/N). Not me. You try to calm down before starting your daily trek out to school. Your wrist burns, and you can feel your anxiety building up like a dam ready to crack. What if people are watching me? Oh, God, they think I'm stupid. Before you know it, you've taken off running, sprinting down the cracked sidewalk. Tears blur your vision, and you let out a yelp as you slam into something- someone; one of your only friends in all of Riverdale- Jughead Jones III. From the minute you had first stepped into the school as a freshman, Jughead had been the one to defend you, accepting you as a boy, helping you through your depressive episodes- always there for you. Now is no exception.

"Hey... slow down, okay? Breathe." Jughead's voice cuts through your frantically failing thoughts. You collapse against his side as he leads you around the corner of a building near Pop's. He lowers you gently to the ground, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You're cursing yourself for crying, even though you know that he won't care. The thought trips you up again, and your breath catches, the series of rapid, hyperventilated breaths crowding any sense of peace you may have clung onto away.

"C- Can't breathe-" you choke out. Jughead's eyes widen in concern as he looks around.

"It'll be okay, (Y/N), you're gonna get through this. I promise. Deep breaths, okay?" Jughead takes one of your hands in his, his grip reassuring. "In, two, three, four, out. See? You're gonna be okay." You follow the rise-fall pattern of your friends chest as best you can, air rattling out of your tin-can lungs. It strikes you again, how hard it is to stay afloat on the crashing waves of pain. It's been perhaps five minutes when you can finally breathe again. This almost sends you into a second bout of panic, but Jughead stops you before you can start to spew all your anxieties into the darkness of the alley. Your head drops.

"Thank you." It's a whisper, barely there, but he hears it.

"It's what I'm here for. Do you, um-" he pauses. He offers a hand. You take it, letting him pull you up. "Do you want to talk about it?" He hasn't let go of your hand, and as you go to pull away, you remember the cuts. You hiss as you feel them open, and you know that blood is leaking through your less-than-proficient bandaging. That's the only thing you've never told Jughead about. You make your decision right then.

"N-no." You turn before you can see his worried expression, once again sprinting off down the road. You make it into the front doors of the school with seconds to spare before the bell rings. Your lungs ache with anxiety, your ribs feel cracked beneath your binder, and, above all, you feel worse than you did when you left your home.

~~~

Four hours into school, and all you feel is numb. Why didn't I just let him help me? I could've just, If only I- Why didn't-STOP. You wish everyone knew how hard it was to keep your thoughts straight. All thoughts of thinking, however, are swept under a rug as a shadow is cast over your desk. You look up into the face of a red-headed demon- Cheryl Blossom.

"Oh, look at this, girls!" she calls back to her possè. They gather around your desk like spiders around a fly in the centre of a well-woven web, wicked grins gracing their features- perfect porcelain dolls. "It's the little girl that pretends to be a boy." You stare stubbornly down at your table, fists clenched tightly under the wood, despite how it hurts your cuts. "I hope you know you'll never be accepted, you freak." Despite your best try, tears gather at the corners of your eyes. "Oh, is the little girl gonna cry?"

"Fuck off, Cheryl." You're head snaps up at the voice of your saviour. It's Jughead, hands in fists at his sides, the darkest of glares on his face. "Leave him alone." Cheryl scoffs, beckoning to her followers as she sashays out the door with a 'you'll pay for this'. Jughead grabs you by the hand, dragging out the hall, down the door, and into a janitor's closet. He flicks the light on. You flinch as he yanks up your hoodie sleeve, the bloodied bandages coming into view.

"This," he says, gesturing to your mangled arm, "does not happen again. Do you hear me? I care about you too much to lose you to your own mind and a blade. I'll do whatever you need me to, I'll be here when you need me, I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, but don't do this anymore. I need you here. Veronica and Betty and Archie- they all need you here. I know you don't feel accepted, but even if you can't find it in you to love yourself, let me do it until you can. Please, please, please. Promise me, (Y/N)." You're choked with emotion, and it's all you can do to nod, wrapping your arms around Jughead's neck in a bone-crushing hug.

"Okay. Good. That's really good. You've promised me, and you know I hate broken promises. Don't go back on this. I care about you," Jughead says in your ear, letting you go carefully. "Now, let's get this cleaned up and go show life who's the winner here, yeah?"

A/N- Well, first chapter complete. I will upload as many times as I can throughout the week, and I hope you found this enjoyable. Remember- there are always people that will support you, no matter how hopeless your situation seems. The people that truly love and care about you will respect and help you through whatever you need them to.

-CarsonLell