#a boy can MOVE
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Hey, don't cry. Ghost yuri, okay?
(Now that you know the girls, they need to meet the boys!)
#payneland#edwin x charles#dead boy detectives#dbda#fem payneland#although technically as everyone is the opposite gender their last names should be different#OKAY you know the drill u get fanart and i get to ramble about it#Edith wears pants now#this pains me because i love drawing skirts but after she escaped hell#she met charlotte who made an offhand comment about how it's easier to move with pants#and edith who just spent 70 years running in hell went wait a tick#she feels safer that way is what i'm saying#interesting because as you can see she wore a skirt to confess and we know how THAT went but anyway#charlotte's mom was abusive of course#and she forced her to practice ballet despite charlotte being interested in a lot of other sports#she did fairly well at ballet but this means no cricket bat :(#i know we all love butch fem charles but as he's mostly gender conforming i decided to not do that#no reason for the bracelets but as i wanted to give her a choker i thought they would combine with the earrings#crystal is still crystal because his parents are weird artists who like stupid names#niko though... i don't know what to name him#dead girl detectives
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She Likes a Boy (And Iâm Not Just a Boy)
pairing:Â jordan li x fem!reader
summary: You and Jordan are friends with benefits, and Jordan is trying so hard to be okay with that. Somehow, they still fell in love with you despite their best efforts to not fucking do that. But you've only ever fucked them when they're a guy, so they assume you're only interested in them one way. Just like everyone else. You've never said anything to make them think any different so it's obvious, right? So they take what they can get. Which is only half. And they keep you at a distance, because anything else will kill them.
A/N: flashbacks are in all Italics. some smut.
gif credit: artemidosgifs and stannyramirez
âOh shit, Jordie, wait-â You canât catch your breath, legs shaking where theyâre thrown over Jordanâs shoulders.Â
âStop fucking squirming.â Jordan huffs, licking some of your wetness off your thigh.
Your vision is swimming a little. How long have you been in this position? Or in Jordanâs room? Itâs hard to keep track of anything, when youâre with them. His tongue finds your clit again. Insistent, rough swipes. Youâre too overworked now for anything gentle to even register. How many times have you cum now?Â
âYou always taste so fucking good.â Jordan moans, voice hoarse and low.
He puts a hand under your back to press you further into his mouth. With only your shoulders pushed into the mattress you canât move. Jordanâs eyes are always glued to your face when you fuck. As if heâs daring you to shy away from whatever heâll do to you next.Â
Considering that his favorite thing to do is overstimulate you, youâre not sure the irritation is fair. What are you supposed to do when heâs made you cum four times and is still going? According to Jordan, the answer is simple: lie there and take it.Â
Lifting you up. Pinning you down. These are the solutions heâs arrived at. Jordan hates having to chase you just to give you the orgasm you begged him for in the first place.Â
âYou ready for my fingers again?â Jordan asks, but itâs not a real question, because you donât get to so much as gasp before heâs plunging three fingers into you again.Â
Heâs rough as he rocks his fingers into that soft spot inside of you that always makes your eyes roll back into your head. He knows the angle you like him to use by heart.Â
âFucking shit, Jordan!â Your hands fall into his hair, grip like a vice, and Jordan half moans and half laughs against you.
Itâs the vibrations that send you over the edge again. The breath leaving your lungs in one rush as that coil inside releases and makes the world go white and your ears ring.Â
You come back to yourself slowly. Jordan hovering over you, pressing kisses into the side of your neck. You grasp at his shoulders, pulling him down so that he's laying on top of you. The weight is comforting after the overwhelming head rush. You still feel shaky. He goes down easily, wrapping one arm underneath you.
âI can feel you smirking, jerk.â You laugh weakly, hitting his arm.
âYou soaked my fucking fingers. Think I'm allowed a smirk.â Jordan says.Â
He lifts his head from your neck and there's that smug look you love to see him wear. It's enough to make you ready to have him all over again. You settle on gently massaging his scalp.Â
âI'll tell you what you're allowed.â You tease, grinning at him.Â
âHah! Always have enough energy to be a fucking brat, huh?â Jordan rolls his eyes.Â
You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. âI've got enough energy to make out too! Gimme a kiss.â
âFucking insatiable.â Jordan scoffs, but gives in. Because he always does.Â
It's hard to think when Jordan kisses you. He kisses like he doesn't need to breathe. Or be anywhere else but with you. One of his hands finds yours, locking your fingers together. You squeeze tight. Try not to imagine holding his hand like this outside each other's dorms. Because that only ever makes you feel empty afterwards when all the hormones from the orgasms should leave you floating.
You get a third wind when Jordan rocks his hips against yours and you feel he's hard again. You reach a hand between the two of you, grasping his dick to angle him back inside. Thank God for Supe refractory periods. You sigh when his tip pushes into you.Â
âYeah princess? You want me again?â He tries to sound teasing, nonchalant, but he only sounds like he wants you just as bad.
You rock your hips so that he slides inside fully. Watch him tilt his head back and moan for you as you move. Hungrily taking in the way every sound shapes his mouth. You lean up to kiss at the underside of his jaw. You can't leave any hickies on him but you always kiss him like you want to. God you fucking wish you could. Maybe if you could leave marks people wouldn't chase after them so much. If everyone knew Jordan was yours. But Jordan isn't yours.Â
You bite him a little harder.
Jordan's hand finds your throat. You whine, the noise strangled against his palm. You go lax as he pushes you back into the bed. Gently. His fingers flex, a little tighter, and your eyes flutter shut.Â
âGonna be good for me?â Jordan asks.
You nod your head frantically, legs dragging him closer. It's never close enough. No matter what you do.Â
âYeah, I'll be good, Jordie.â You say the words he wants to hear, feeling your head go soft and thoughtless again.
âFucking liar.â He grinds his hips into yours and chokes you harder when you clench around him.Â
Youâd been fast friends, best friends, since the moment you stepped on campus and met one another as freshman. Talking to Jordan. Spending time with them. Everything that first year didnât even feel like getting to know one another. It just felt like coming home.
You didnât say as much to Jordan. They would have rolled their eyes and scoffed at how sensitive you were, if you had. But you knew they felt the same way. You were the one Jordan went to whenever they were sad. When they were excited. When they were coming into themselves, learning to love who they were after a lifetime of everyone else telling them not to.Â
You were the first person to see them. Before Brink, even, you saw them. All their potential. All their greatness. All of them, and Jordan had never forgotten that.Â
Jordan saw you too, in turn. Youâd never felt like much more than a pretty face, before Jordan.Â
You were the type of beautiful that made people look twice when they walked past you. When you were a little girl you soaked in all the praise like a flower. Every: âsheâs so prettyâ, and âwell look at her!â, or âoh wow!â was nourishment to your little soul.
It would be impossible to pinpoint the moment you realized that was all anyone saw. Even once your powers manifested. Advanced healing, advanced reflexes, limited invulnerability, energy manipulation. You were the whole nine yards. Your parents, when you were thirteen, had sent a video of you using your powers off to Vought.Â
A man and woman showed up a day later in suits, wanting to meet you personally.
âShe sure is a little looker, isnât she?â The man had said, and heâd held your hand for too long before he let go.Â
Theyâd come prepared. With ideas for costumes. Which team of teenage Supes you should be placed with. If you should just go straight for television. The adults talked around you. Not paying you any mind as you stared at the costume that would reveal so much skin. Youâd never worn a skirt that short before. You hadnât been allowed, hadnât even wanted to, really. If youâd come home from the mall having bought anything like that on your own, your parents would have blown a fuse. Now they just sat on either side of you, mile wide grins plastered on their faces.Â
All the voices faded to background noise. You realized maybe you were too young to be a superhero. You thought it would involve more... saving people. Running into burning buildings. Getting the bad guys. Saving the day. The people from Vought were only talking about magazine spreads. About what persona would fit your look.Â
âWhat about school?â Youâd asked, quietly, and everyone in the room had turned to look at you baffled.Â
âWhat about school, sweetheart?â The woman laughed. âYouâll get a private tutor, of course. But your future is big. You wonât even have to worry about stuff like that anymore. Goodbye lame homework. Hello red carpets!âÂ
You sat very quietly until they left. Your parents were more angry than youâd ever seen them, when you told them you wanted to wait until after high-school to pursue being a hero.Â
You knew telling them you werenât sure you wanted to do it at all was off the table.Â
During high-school you noticed people didnât listen to you. You would be telling someone about your favorite book; or talking about a movie that changed your whole worldview, only to realize the other person had been staring at your lips the entire time.Â
You stopped talking so much about things you cared about. No one listened anyways.Â
âBimbo.â
âAirhead.â
âSlut.âÂ
Were all things youâd heard before youâd ever gone on your first date. Gotten so much as your first kiss on the cheek. High-school was lonely, and you couldnât talk about it being lonely without sounding like an asshole, you quickly realized. The few friends you had would roll their eyes when youâd try and vent. You thought it was just playful ribbing. Friends tease each other. It made you feel included! Until you caught them mocking you behind your back to one another.
âLook at me, Iâm Y/N, and lifeâs so hard because Iâm so pretty and popular. Is she fucking serious? Stuck up bitch.âÂ
You stopped venting.
When you got to God-U, you werenât sure what to expect. College was a chance to reinvent yourself. Even if you werenât sure you wanted to be a Superhero you knew this could be a chance to find your people. Lifelong friends.Â
People who you could get coffees with between classes. Who would go to all your birthdays and want to be there. People you would spend hours on the phone with. Fall asleep studying together. Girls who might like you enough to make you their maid of honor. Guys who would high five you when you did something cool and not try to sneak a glance at your chest.Â
You were imagining it all as you unpacked your boxes. Your stomach twisting itself into knots. Living in a half world between excitement and dread.
Then you met your roommate and she gave you the look. The look youâd gotten all your life from girls, and you knew youâd never be real friends. Girls who looked at you like that kept their boyfriends away from you at parties. And they never shared the secrets that friends share because they thought youâd put them in a fucking burn book. The look alone almost made you give up and just go home.Â
You went for a walk instead, fighting back tears. Thatâs when you ran into Jordan. Literally, ran into Jordan. You knocked the both of you to the ground.Â
When theyâd snapped, âWhat the fuck dude?â at you, harsh and angry and very them, youâd burst into tears.Â
It wasnât the perfect way to meet your person. But you were glad you met them at all.Â
 âStop moving your eyes away from the screen.â Jordan says.Â
âIâm not allowed to move my eyes away from the screen?â You laugh.
âNo, this part is really important. You have to pay attention. I wanna see if you catch it.âÂ
You try your best to keep your eyes glued to the screen, as instructed. But you canât help the way you keep glancing towards Jordan. She looks good. She always looks good, but right now you donât even want to look away from her. The colors of the movie flashing across her face, blues and golds, make her look like a painting.Â
âAre you watching?â Jordan asks, and you smile at the excitement in her voice.Â
You look back towards the movie, wondering what she wants you to see so badly. You look just in time. A small detail catches your eyes and you gasp, reaching out a hand blindly to shake her in your own excitement.Â
âDid you see that in the background?â You shake her again, for good measure.
âI saw it.â Jordan laughs.
âThat means that he killed the wife!âÂ
âHow do you figure?â
You pause the movie, ready to explain where you think the plot is heading. When you turn to face Jordan you have to take a deep breath. You donât know whether you love or hate that look. Your feelings on the matter change day to day.Â
Jordan is leaned up into the arm of the couch, relaxed, and sheâs staring at you with The Smile she wears sometimes. She started doing it a few months into your friendship. Back when you used to talk and then slowly stop. So completely sure that nobody wanted to hear what you had to say.Â
Jordan had asked you, back then, why you always stopped telling stories halfway through, or stopped talking about your day, or the latest book youâd read.Â
You wanted to lie, at first. Eventually you told a half truth, âI never have anything interesting to say.âÂ
Jordan had looked at you for a long time. You were worried that somehow, up until that moment, they hadnât realized how boring you were. But you acknowledging it out loud had made them think about it, and now they were going to ditch you for a friend who was interesting, funny, and smart.Â
Instead, Jordan had told you that she loved the way your mind worked, and sheâd smiled The Smile at you, for the first time. You hadnât known how to respond, to the words, or the smile. You turned the conversation back towards Brinkâs latest class assignment.Â
Later that night youâd gone back to your dorm room and cried, but youâd felt happier than youâd ever felt.Â
It made you feel warm and soft that three years later Jordan still smiled at you like that. It felt like your cue to say anything on your mind, no matter how dumb. Green light means go. The Smile means talk.Â
âWell?â Jordan nudges you with her foot, still smiling, and waiting for you.Â
You shake your head to break free of the spell she puts you in, âWell, look at his sense of style for the entire movie. All his stuff is modern and sleek and then the first time we see his bedroom all the rest of the decor is in line with the rest of the house, except that one thing. All the camera shots are so purposeful and they lingered a little, after he walked away. They wanted us to see he was keeping a trophy. He totally killed her, didnât he?âÂ
Jordan pauses for a second and then laughs. âI donât know how you always guess right. I didnât see the twist coming at all the first time I watched it.â
âSecondary super power.â
âConnecting all the dots?â
âConnecting all the dots, yeah.âÂ
âY/N! Y/N, thank fucking god, you gotta come with me.â Cate grabbed you by the arm, rougher than sheâd ever touched you before.Â
âI was on my way to class.â You tripped over your feet as Cate pulled you the opposite way you needed to go.
âForget class! Jordanâs gonna get themself expelled.â Cate snapped.Â
âWhat?!âÂ
âTheyâre beating the shit out of Peter in the locker room. Lukeâs not on campus. I canât get close enough to stop them-â
Youâd broken into a sprint towards the fighting arena. You didnât know what the hell was happening. Peter and Jordan had spoken maybe ten times to each other in all the years of attending the same university.Â
Youâd never gotten anywhere so fast in your life. Andre was standing steadfast in front of the entrance to the boyâs locker room, a small group of other students standing outside. You could hear the sounds of fighting pouring out from the door.Â
âBack it up you fucking vultures.â Andre snipped. He might not have super strength but he was still Number 4, and could look intimidating when he needed to.Â
âAndre, whatâs going on?â You pushed to the front of the crowd.Â
âThank fuck Cate found you. You gotta get in there. Jordanâs gonna fucking mur-â Andre glanced at the phones pointed at the both of you, trying to record even a drip of gossip about top students trying to seriously hurt each other and lowered his voice, âJordan is actually gonna fucking kill Peter. Iâll keep the crowds back. Get in there.âÂ
You moved past him into the locker room and your jaw dropped at the state of the place.Â
You thought these lockers were bolted down. Apparently not. At least four rows of them were knocked to the ground, heavily dented. A water bottle refilling station had been crumpled to nothing, exposed pipe spraying water across the floor.
âGet off of me you fucking animal.â You heard Peter cry from further in the room and ran.Â
Jordan had shoved Peter up against the wall. You were surprised Peter was still conscious. He was lucky he healed so fast. You could see his black eye fading even as Jordan broke his nose.Â
âYou fucking stay away from her. You understand? I hear you fucking talking like that again and I take the tongue out of your fucking mouth, you asshole.âÂ
Peter laughs through a mouth full of blood,âNot my fault she gave it up so easy, Li-âÂ
Jordan throws him into one of the last standing lockers and you see that they are indeed bolted into the ground. Evidently, Jordan throws stronger than Supe resistant steel can take. When Jordan moves to lift Peter out of the crater his body made in the downed locker you rush in between them, putting a shield up.Â
âY/N?â You can see some of the anger fade from Jordanâs face, just a little, at the sight of you.
âHey, Jordie. Think Peter has had enough.â
Jordan scoffs, âNo, he really fucking hasnât,â he leans around you to yell at Peter, whoâs trying to push himself onto his knees, âHeâs still running his fucking mouth!âÂ
âPussy whipped asshole-â Peter groans.
You glance at Peter on the floor, aghast, âPeter! Stop antagonizing, Jordan. Whatâs wrong with you?âÂ
âUnbelievable, honestly. You walk in on Jordan kicking my ass and you tell me to stop antagonizing the fucker?â Peter huffs, pushing his nose back into place so it wonât heal wrong.Â
âName calling isnât gonna make him stop kicking your ass. Iâm trying to help.â You shoot back.
âWell, no one needs your help, you dumb-âÂ
âHey.â Jordan interrupts. Heâs not yelling anymore, but his voice is the loudest thing in the room. âWatch your mouth, Peter. I fucking mean it.âÂ
You look back and forth between them. They watch each other for a long moment. Jordan looking eerily calm. Peter looks away first.Â
âYeah, thatâs what I fucking thought. Come on, Y/N.â Jordan grabs your hand and marches you out of the locker room. Past Andre and Cate, who try to stop you both but Jordan waves them off and muscles his way past the crowd too.Â
He doesnât stop until youâre back in his dorm room and heâs shut the door behind the two of you.Â
âYou were fucking that loser?â He asks, clicking the lock into place.   Â
âYouâre lucky Andre and Cate kept people out of the locker room so thereâs no video of everything! You could get expelled, Jordan! What the fuck happened?âÂ
âHe hit me first and heâs not even in the top ten. Whatâs he at? Number 14? No oneâll give a shit what happens to him. When did you start fucking him?â
âIâm not fucking him! Or⌠Iâm not just, fucking him. Iâm⌠I was dating him. Why were you two fighting?âÂ
âDating? For how fucking long? You didnât tell me you were dating anyone.â Jordanâs hair is already a disheveled mess. He yanks his fingers through the strands and makes it worse.Â
âWeâve been going on dates for like⌠three months? Kinda? Maybe.â You say quietly.Â
âThree months?! Are you serious? Why didnât you tell me? What the fuck?âÂ
âWhy are you so mad?â
âFriends talk to each other about shit like this! And if youâd talked to me, I would have told you that Peter is a clout chasing piece of shit thatâll never amount to anything. You shouldâve heard the shit he was saying today. Fucking piece of shit!âÂ
âThatâs why you were fighting?â You wring your hands together, a knot tying itself over and over in your stomach. âWhat did he say?â
Jordan stops pacing the room, goes still and turns away from you.Â
âWell? What did he say? It was bad enough to make you two beat the shit out of each other! So what was it?âÂ
âHe just⌠You donât have to worry about it, okay? He wonât go near you again.â Jordan says firmly.
âWhatever he said heâs gonna keep saying. Just behind my back. I should know.â
Jordan sighs and moves to sit beside you on his couch, knee bouncing with anxiety. âHe was⌠bragging to his shitty friends. About being the first guy on campus to fuck you. About how it didnât even take that long and⌠how⌠he was thinking of recording you. So he could show them how slutty you are. It wasâŚ. fucking disgusting.âÂ
âOh.â You say.Â
You swallow around the lump in your throat. Youâd done everything you could to avoid something like this happening. Had kept your dates off campus, to make sure he actually wanted to date you and not just the hot girl ranked Number 3. Youâd spent nights staying up on the phone laughing and talking. Youâd put off sleeping with Peter for a whole two months, even though you liked him, because you wanted to make sure he liked you.Â
You hadnât even let him call you his girlfriend until a few days ago. You thought he really liked you. But no matter how hard you try⌠you guess this is it. Youâre just something pretty to look at. Even Vought doesnât take you seriously, despite your powers. Youâre the top ranked student in everything. Right behind Jordan. Forensic analysis. Combat. Battle strategy. Still, you only ever get asked about makeup routines and how to maintain your figure in interviews.Â
You wipe at your burning eyes and try not to cry about something youâve already accepted.Â
âFuck that guy. Fuck him. Heâs so far beneath your level Iâm surprised you can perceive his plane of fucking existence, okay? Heâs a fucking single cell organism. He doesnât even know what a brain is.â Jordan gets up from the couch to kneel in front of you, tries to look you in the eyes.Â
âIâm so fucking stupid.âÂ
âNo, you fucking are not. Donât say that about yourself. Heâs fucking stupid. Itâs genuinely insane you even wasted your time with him. Why didnât you tell me you were seeing anyone?â Jordan asks, voice quiet.
âI justâŚ. I wanted to make sure he was actually gonna stick around before I even brought him up to you. Youâre so ⌠important, why tell you about someone who isnât? Itâs not like you write home to me about any of the people you mess around with! Weâve never really talked about this kind of stuff.âÂ
âYeah, but itâs different. Iâm not serious about anyone! You were actually dating, Peter. And I would have told you not to.â Jordan rolls his eyes.
âWell, I wanted to make sure it was serious. Before I even said anything.âÂ
âIt wouldnât have gotten serious if youâd told me about it in the first place. I wouldnât have let Peter within ten feet of you!âÂ
âWeâre talking in circles.â You huff in frustration, pressing your palms into your eyes to stop the stinging.
âSorry, I justâŚ. Fucking still wish I was beating the shit out of him, honestly.â Jordan says.
âYou are not leaving this room for the rest of the day, Li. Even if he is Number 14, you canât walk away from a fight then go back for seconds cause you didnât get it all out the first time. That wonât hold up too well in court.â
âHe heals too fast for there to be any marks left on him. Itâll all be hearsay.â Jordan smirks. Â
You let out a weak laugh. Jordan reaches out, touching the corner of your lips. âCan we shoot for something a little bigger? If I donât see you smile soon Iâll actually go kill him.âÂ
You roll your eyes and slide to the edge of the couch, so youâre resting your head on Jordanâs shoulder, leaning all your weight against him. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles into your spine.
âI really wanted it to work out, Jordan.â You mumble into the skin of his collarbone.
âWith fucking Peter?âÂ
âWith⌠anyone.â Your voice wavers and Jordanâs grip gets tighter. âItâs so fucking lonely. I just want to be someoneâs favorite person. Not because of how I look, but because they like me. Really like me. And no one fucking does, no matter how hard I try.â The tears start falling now and Jordan pulls back and makes you look up at him, one hand on your cheek.Â
âHey, hey, donât cry. I fucking⌠I like you. Iâve always liked you.â Jordan says, frantic as he wipes away the tears as they come.
âItâs not the same, Jordan!â You shake your head, and bite your lip. Youâd almost said itâs not enough. Because it isnât. But you can't think about that for too long. It makes the hole in you ache a little worse.Â
âYeahâŚ.guess itâs not.â Jordan says quietly. He keeps wiping away the tears, dutiful and gentle as he goes.Â
âYou said he hit you first?â You ask, after a long moment of him quietly soothing you.
âCome on, Iâm not stupid. Had to let him get the first swing in.â Jordan smirked.
âWhat did you say to make him hit you?â You ask.
âTold him he was lucky you believe in charity work and giving back to the fucking needy.âÂ
Itâs enough to startle a laugh out of you. You smack his arm weakly before pulling him into another hug. He kisses the top of your head so softly you donât notice it, too busy laughing.Â
âY/N, good to see you dear. You keeping our Jordan out of trouble?â Brink asks as he comes out of his office, not surprised to see you perched on Jordanâs desk.Â
âProfessor, we both know that Iâm the one getting Jordan into trouble.â You flash the older man your most mischievous grin.Â
âAh, my apologies. I assume that means youâre distracting her from doing her work, as well?â Brink raises an eyebrow teasingly.Â
âYes.â You say.
âNo.â Jordan protests, at the same time.Â
You throw your head back with a laugh. âItâs a goal I hold most dear to my heart, to distract Jordan from grading these papers. I think Iâm succeeding wonderfully, youâll be happy to know, Professor.âÂ
âSheâs joking, Professor.â Jordan smacks your thigh and you glance down just in time to burn the image of her hand on your thigh into your brain. She almost never touches you, when sheâs like this.Â
âYou know, Jordan, I didnât happen to lose my sense of humor after I hit sixty.â Brink waves off Jordanâs concern and leans towards the two of you, whispering conspiratorially, âI know the gray hair gives the illusion of being a boring old fart, but I do like to laugh every now and then.â
Jordan shakes her head with a small laugh and you canât help but watch, entranced, at the way her hair brushes the olive skin of her cheeks. When you look back towards Brink you find him already watching you, a knowing smile on his lips. You laugh nervously, and look down at the wood grain texture of Jordanâs desk. Itâs suddenly fascinating. Is it real oak? Cherry?
âYou close to being done, Jordan?â Brink asks casually.Â
âUh-â Jordanâs face blanches and you suddenly feel genuinely sorry for distracting her from her work.Â
â-relax, kiddo. Youâre not in trouble. Geez, what am I, a work nazi? Those papers donât need to be graded for another four days, right? You work too hard. I was just asking causeâ I was getting a little hungry myself and wanted to know if you could use a break? Thereâs a great new Indian place nearby, apparently. Professor. Karp was telling me about it yesterday. Itâs only a twenty minute ride away. Wanna tag along?âÂ
âI should probably finish up a few more papers-âÂ
âShe would love to take a break, Professor.â You reach over, saving the work Jordanâs done and shutting down her laptop at lightning speed.Â
âBrat.â Jordan mouths the word at you quickly, so Brink wonât see.Â
You stick your tongue out at her, not caring if anyone sees.Â
âYou should come along too, Y/N. Been awhile since we last caught up.â Brink has a twinkle in his eye that you canât quite place.
You slide off Jordanâs desk anyways, not willing to pass up any valuable Time Spent With Jordan, âIâm not sure if I trust Professor Karpâs recommendation on restaurants, but Iâll try and be very brave about it if the food is awful.â
âJordan, have I ever told you how much I love this girl?â Professor Brink shrugs on his coat with a laugh.Â
âYeah.â Jordan watches Brink help you into your own coat with a small smile. âYeah, Professor you have.âÂ
âFucking fuck me!â Jordan throws her phone onto the coffee table in front of her.
âAre the parental units being emotional terrorists again?â You ask from your spot on her bed, turning the page of your textbook, mindlessly highlighting another sentence that could be important for the upcoming final.Â
âNo, itâs just the whole fucking roster is busy.â Jordan roughly runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her bob.Â
âHuh?â You look up from your notes.
âThe whole roster is locked in for finals but I really need to let off some fucking steam!â Jordan sighs.
âHow big is the roster?â You try to sound curious, like a best friend would be, and not irritated, like someone in love with their best friend would be.Â
âToo big for me to not be fucking someone right now.â Jordan snips.Â
âWe are studying right now. Or Iâm studying, and you should be studying too, instead of thinking about needing to get your rocks off.â You say coolly, flipping to the next page.Â
âI canât fucking focus.â Jordan groans, but comes back over to the bed and flops down beside you, throwing her arm over her eyes. âWhat concept are we on now?âÂ
âTheories on limiting public and private property damage in fights with other Supes.â
âThere is no fucking way I can focus on something that fucking boring without having an orgasm first.âJordan groans, again, âItâs not even about limiting loss of human life or injury?â
âNope. Property damage.âÂ
âFuck me!âÂ
You both fall into silence. You studying. Jordan, you assume, weighing the pros and cons of downloading Tinder. The thought makes your stomach drop.
Then you get an idea. An awful, horrible, no good, rotten fucking idea.Â
Your mouth is opening before you can stop yourself, âYou could fuck me.â
âHuh?â Youâve never seen Jordan sit up so fast.
âI just mean- ⌠we really gotta focus and I... I mean if you just need to let off some steam we could alwaysâŚâ You try your best to fumble your way into proper usage of the English language but even the thought of fucking Jordan makes that impossible.Â
âAre you serious right now?â Jordan shifts halfway through the sentence, eyes glued to your every nervous, jittery movement as you sit in front of him.
âWouldnât have said anything if it wasnât a real offer.â You say quietly, not looking up from the book.Â
Jordan snatches said book from your lap and tosses it away, ignoring your noise of protest. âYou donât think itâd make things weird?âÂ
âWeird was when I had to take you to get your wisdom teeth removed and you kept saying the green man was gonna get us while you were still high off the good stuff. Sex is just sex, right?â You try to say it casually.Â
âWould⌠would it be a one time thing?â Jordan asks slowly. Â
âIt could be more⌠we could be-â You say, equally as slow.Â
â- could be?â Jordan echoes, voice sounding oddly tight and expression carefully blank.
The look is so strange it makes you panic, and if youâd thought of saying something stupid and desperate for one second like âa coupleâ, well, that look on his face is more than enough to send you straight back to reality on the âmy-life-fucking-sucksâ express in no time flat.
âWe could be like friends with benefits!â You blurt out in one breath.Â
âOh.â Jordan says.Â
âIt was just an idea.â You reach for the textbook again, which landed near Jordanâs thigh. Youâre careful not to touch him when you grab it, or sound too disappointed, or heartbroken at the completely lackluster reaction Jordan has to the thought of having sex with you. âA stupid idea, forget it.â
âWhyâs it stupid?â Jordanâs brow furrows, tone teetering on the edge of defensive.Â
âI meanâŚâ You canât think of a reason fast enough. âWeâre probably sexually incompatible.âÂ
âWhy do you assume that?â Jordan goes from staring at you, to glaring at you.Â
Youâve always hated how once Jordan latches on to a line of questioning, you canât get them to drop that interrogation for shit. A dog with a bone has nothing on a Jordan who wants an answer.
âI donât⌠know?â You say, but it sounds like a question.Â
âI think weâd be compatible.â Jordan states this like heâd state the sky is blue or water is wet.Â
âHave you thought about it before?â You ask, bewildered.Â
âWhat, are you into something really kinky?â Jordan answers your previous question not at all.
âNo!â There goes that nervous body language of yours again.Â
âOnly way to really know if weâre sexually compatible is to actually try it out.â Suddenly, Jordan is within your personal space bubble.Â
You donât really know how to react, your body freezes up on instinct. Jordanâs hand comes up to rub soothing circles into the crook of your elbow. Your shoulders fall away from your ears.
âCan I kiss you?â Jordanâs voice is quiet, soft as he tilts his head to knock his nose against yours. Playful, teasing. But the look on his face is something you canât place at all.Â
You feel his breath on your lips and nod absentmindedly.Â
âDonât want you to nod when I ask you a question like this. Yes or no, Y/N?âÂ
âYe-â The words not fully out of your mouth before Jordan is kissing you, a heavy hand pulling you closer by the nape of your neck.Â
You pull yourself into Jordanâs lap and try to focus on how good it feels when he nips at your bottom lip, instead of how much you wished youâd asked him to be your boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. Everything. Even if heâd said no, at least then you would have had an answer. Now youâve only made your life harder.Â
You stop thinking so much when Jordan puts a hand on your hip and guides you to grind yourself against him.Â
âY/Nâs right.â Jordan mutters, not looking up from his phone.Â
âNo, she is not. Youâre just agreeing with her because thatâs your default factory setting. Listen to the context of the argument please.â Andre snaps, drowning his Vought Triple meat burger in ketchup.
âI did. Your grim dark theory on childrenâs media is lame, and Y/N knows more about the Monsterâs Inc universe than you ever will.â Jordan shrugs.
âHah!â You laugh in Andreâs face.
âIs it really such a flex to be an expert on the lore of a Pixar movie universe?â Cate asks teasingly.Â
âYes.â You say.Â
âNo.â Andre says, like a sore loser. Â
âI agree with Y/N, itâs literally in the explicit text of the movie, Monsters Inc isnât a post-apocalyptic world. Itâs a separate dimension from ours. The monsters come to our dimension to harvest screams of children to get clean, scream energy. God, Andre, pay attention during movie night.â Luke jumps in on the tormenting Andre train, grinning wildly at the other man from across the table. He gets a middle finger for his troubles.Â
âIâm glad someone pays attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.â You sniff haughtily.Â
âI literally agreed with you first.â Jordan looks at you from over the top of her phone in a way that makes you blush.Â
âIâm glad two people are paying attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.â You clear your throat.Â
âThank you.â Jordanâs intense brown eyes fall away from you and you take a gulp of your drink.Â
âBathroom alert, Y/N. A stall just opened up.â Cate tells you pointing to the bathroom door right as another girl exits.Â
âI am kissing you on the lips, telepathically.â You say, sliding from the booth youâre all sharing.
âDonât you telepathically lip lock with my girlfriend.â Luke calls after you, laughing.
âGet some powers of telepathy yourself and make me, fire boy.â You enter the bathroom, shutting out the sounds of laughter from your table with a smile.Â
You take the biggest stall at the back and try to go about your business quickly. You hear two faucets turn on, someone washing their hands, and try not to get pee shy.Â
âSo how was it?â A monotone voice asks, you assume one of the hand washers.
âYou know I donât usually kiss and tell, but it was insane.â A higher, more giggly voice answers.Â
âSo they really are good in bed then, huh?â The monotone voice sounds a little more curious.Â
âIncredible. All the rumors are true. Theyâre a little⌠uh, brusque, about the after sex part, if Iâm putting it lightly, but the sex itself was great!â The high voice chirps.Â
âWhat? Did they throw you a towel and tell you to kick rocks?â The monotone voice asks.Â
âPretty much.â The high voice sighs. âBut they made me cum so many times I think Iâd still pick up if they called me again. You think they might?âÂ
âI say this with all the love in the world: girl stand up.â Monotone voice drawls.Â
âYou wouldnât be telling me that if you knew how good it felt to sit on her face.â High voice says.
You stifle a laugh, trying not to get caught eavesdropping, but with Supe hearing it really is hard to mind your own business. Besides, theyâre not being that quiet about the conversation anyways.Â
âIâll have to take your word for it.â
âOr you could experience it for yourself. They were just as good as a boy as they were as a girl. Maybe better. I dunno. She was more aggressive as a girl, which was kinda hot.âÂ
âJordan Li, pussy eating extraordinaire. Can we go now? Our food is probably ready.â Monotone voice sighs.Â
âFine, but Iâm telling you, the things they can do with a strap are-âÂ
The voices fade away with the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing.Â
You find you donât really want to finish eating your food, when you get back to the table. You spend the rest of lunch trying your best not to look at Jordan, and also ignoring Cateâs concerned gaze boring into the side of your skull.Â
You pretend to be sick to avoid having to face the reality of Jordan being more than happy to touch other girls as a girl. They just donât want to touch you when theyâre a girl. You wonder what about you is so uniquely off putting. You wonder why it canât be you. Why canât it ever fucking be you?Â
Jordan barges into your room on day three of the silent treatment that you told the group chat was due to a raging fever.Â
Luckily your eyes, swollen shut from all the crying, and the red nose to match, corroborate the story.Â
âWe got it all. Weâve got tissues. We got soup. We got pain meds. We got liquid meds. We also have all the ingredients for a hot toddy, if you want to mix your poisons a little.â Jordan begins to unpack everything onto your counter.Â
âI donât want to take anything.â You say morosely, and a little mean, kind of wanting to hate them but just feeling sad. Jordanâs your best friend before anything else, and you could never hate your first real friend.Â
âCome on, just a little something. You sound fucked up.â Jordan practically coos, touching your forehead. âFeels like your feverâs gone down a little. Sit up for me.â He says, and pulls you to sit up when you donât do it on your own. Â
âI donât want to fucking-â Jordan puts two pills in your mouth as soon as you open it to bitch at him. He hands you water to help you swallow it down.Â
âThanks for that. That was really fun for me.â You snap once youâre done.
âItâs for pain and should bring down the rest of your fever.â Jordan lays you back down, tucking the covers all the way up to your chin. You marvel at the way he doesnât rise to the bait of your very clear attitude. Jordan, catching the look on your face offers you a small glare. âIâm worried. You usually donât get sick. Iâll check that attitude when youâre better. Now, do you want the damn hot toddy or not?â He rubs your head soothingly.
âYes, please.â You try not to pout as you watch Jordan make the drink for you. You really hate how hard it is to hate them. âSorry, Jordie.âÂ
âOh, you can go ahead and save that apology for when I make you cry into your pillow, yeah?â Jordan doesnât even look up from measuring the ingredients.
You pull the covers over your head and leave them there until Jordan pulls them back down.Â
You almost hadnât come to the party.Â
You werenât in a partying mood, as of late. You were in more of a Shakespearean pining era than a City Girls one. But the group had bullied you in the group chat for a week straight until youâd promised to come. The group bullying hadnât worked so much as Jordan asking you one single time to go had.
So here you were.Â
Youâd been nursing one drink for the better part of an hour and hadnât done a single line of cocaine. Jordan had offered you some, but the line had already been placed on the back of his hand. You politely declined, much to his confusion. You only ever did hard drugs with Jordan, and only at big rager parties like this one.Â
At the moment youâre nearly sober. Because you didnât so much as want to touch Jordan right now. Let alone do something like snort a line off of him. Then youâd have to do something like lick the residue off his skin. Which would lead to kissing him. Which would lead to making out with him. Which would lead to fucking him.Â
And you think, for the sake of your sanity, you need to be done fucking Jordan Li.Â
Itâs been about three weeks since you were âsickâ and youâd dodged every attempt at getting physical that Jordan tried to initiate since. At first you were able to pass it off as still feeling icky. That excuse worked for a week. Now, you didnât hang out alone with them and pretended not to see Jordanâs âyou up?â texts until morning.Â
Your friendship just needs a hard reset. This time spent not having sex will do it.Â
Besides, itâs not like Jordan isnât swimming in fucking choices. What does it matter if youâre one less body off the menu? There are plenty of hot girls at this school. Jordanâs probably already fucked half of them.
You throw back the rest of the drink youâve been nursing all at once.
âAre you okay?â Cate puts a hand on your arm and you offer her a blinding, completely fake smile.Â
âYeah!â You say, as chipper as possible.
âJesus christ.â Cate replies, face going all sad and concerned. âWhat did Jordan do?âÂ
âHuh?â You blink, confused.
âYou are the most pissed off Iâve ever seen you. What did Jordan do? Youâve been avoiding them for like two weeks. What gives?â Cate pulls you closer by the arm so that she doesnât have to shout over the music.Â
âNothing!âÂ
âCan you try to lie again but do it better, this time?â Cate frowns.
âJesus Christ, does everything have to be about Jordan? Must my whole entire goddamn life revolve around Jordan Li?â You snap, the way someone who isnât mad about anything does. Â
âOkay.â Cate says slowly. Like sheâs trying to placate a wild animal.Â
The tone alone makes you roll your eyes and move to disappear back in the crowd of drunk twenty-somethings. But she firms her grip on you, the leather of her glove digging into your skin.Â
âY/N-â
âIâm fine, Cate. I just have to get over it.âÂ
âGet over what?â Cate narrows her eyes at you. That shrewd look she sometimes wears when she knows something before someone else falls onto her face.Â
You wonder if youâre completely transparent about your pining or if Cate missed a dose of her medication. Is she starting to hear the buzzing of your frantic, angry, miserable thoughts? Or is she just naturally perceptive?Â
âSo, this is where the real party is hiding!â An arm is thrown around your shoulders suddenly and you are careful not to sigh, because Jordan may not be as perceptive as Cate, but theyâre pretty damn close. Especially when it comes to you.Â
Youâve never moved away from them holding you close like this before, so you canât do it now. You try to just be still. Donât lean into his warmth, but donât cringe away either. You probably used to melt against him, when he touched you. Pathetically. Desperately. A sunflower following rays of light across the sky.Â
â-Princess?â Jordan gives you a gentle shake and your head snaps to the side to look at him. âYou okay?â
âYup!â Apparently, you didnât say that convincingly because he starts to scowl at you. Surprisingly enough, the thought of withstanding a Jordan interrogation does not make you want to be at this party for much longer. âIâm gonna head out, though.âÂ
âWhat?!â Twin exclamations of confusion form Jordan and Cate both.
âNot feeling it. I think I need to get some more sleep. I got a headache, or⌠something.â You shrug.
âOr something?â Jordan echoes.
âYou are not going anywhere, yet, dear friend.â Andre throws his own arm around you, appearing from thin air, and tugging you away from Jordan. Youâve never been more grateful to him.Â
âHow do you figure that?â You laugh.
âWeâre about to play truth or dare in the other room and you dodged playing last time. You can leave after youâve played. You canât get known as the truth or dare dodger.â Andre says.Â
âYou say that as if being a party game dodger is like being known for dodging the Vietnam draft.â You snort.
âNo, itâs worse. People that dodged the Vietnam drafts are heroes. Truth or dare dodgers are cowards. Come on.â Andre begins to drag you towards the other room and you go along with minimal dragging of your feet across the floor.Â
The room is crowded, but all the faces are familiar. Theyâre all within the top twenty, or the groupies that hang around everyone in the top twenty. You pull Andre across the room to a spot on a raggedy couch you have to squeeze the both of you into. No room for Jordan, who you want to avoid. Or Cate, who is too fucking perceptive.Â
You wish youâd grabbed another drink for yourself. Jordan winds up across the room from you, in an optimal position for trying to catch your eye and give you a concerned look every ten seconds.Â
This does not make Truth or Dare more fun to watch.Â
Vulgar dare from one classmate to another. Forcing someone else to admit an uncomfortable truth. One humiliation after the other. Pick your poison on whether you want to debase yourself through the damnation of your own words or a physical act. All challenges of self-mortification being doled out by people who secretly donât like each other very much, but all call each other friends anyways.Â
âEarth to Y/N the space cadet.â The girl sitting next to you gives you a playful shove. You try not to glare at her. Her name escapes you. You think she hangs around with number 6. Or something.Â
âWhat?â
âCate picked you. Truth or dare.â She says the words ominously, causing teasing jeering to rise from the entire group.Â
âWell, Y/N, whatâs it gonna be?â Cate raises her eyebrow at you challengingly.Â
âShe doesnât have to play if she doesnât want to, guys.â Jordan rolls his eyes.
âDare.â You say, wanting to get this over with.Â
The room erupts into excited noise. You donât know why. Cate, of all people, would never force you to do anything humiliating. Or truly scandalous. Itâs why you trust her enough to say dare, instead of truth. But you never pick dare, because anyone else would abuse the power. Everyone looks too eager to see Number 3 do something embarrassing.Â
As if Cate isnât your closest friend beside Jordan. As if sheâd abuse the trust you place in her. It makes you sick. You donât wanna be here. At this party, or at this stupid fucking school.
âI dare youâŚ. to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.âÂ
âWhat?!â Jordan turns to give Cate the nastiest, most disgusted glare youâve ever seen.
âShe doesnât have to do it if she doesnât want to. You know Iâm all about consent.â Cate shrugs innocently, crossing her legs together and giving you a smirk.Â
You sit for a second, contemplating your next move. There are plenty of pretty girls at this party. In this room. If nothing else, the top twenty and their groupies are photogenic (hell, some of them are only in the top twenty because of their looks to begin with. You hope youâre not one of those.) But thereâs only one girl you want to kiss at this party.Â
Thereâs only one person in the world you want to kiss at all.Â
You take a shaky breath, feeling like the walls are closing in. Andre nudges you subtly, catches your eye, as if to say: âyou okay?â but thereâs something else in the look too. Something that says itâs not just Cate, who knows. Probably your whole friend group knows how you feel. Probably the whole school. Probably anyone but Jordan sees it. And Jordan probably does see it, because theyâre too fucking smart not to, and theyâre choosing to ignore it. Because itâs easier that way. Because your feelings are probably too inconvenient. Because youâre not their type. Because youâre clingy, and stupid, and not good enough-Â
You stand up. The room is a wall of noise, and smell and sound pressing in on you. You see Cate smirk. You see Jordan looking away. You see every girl in the room sit up straight. Delusional, if they think any of them could ever be anything, compared to Jordan.Â
You walk past every other girl in the room, and stand in front of Jordan, who still isnât looking.
You kick his ankle with the toe of your heel, to get him to look at you. His head snaps around, the curls of his hair sticking to his forehead, and he looks comically confused. And itâs really too fucking much, for someone as smart as Jordan to look so confused. So fucking baffled, about whatâs happening here. But itâs a pretty convincing act. That only makes you more angry.Â
You make an impatient motion with your hand. A âdo it alreadyâ movement of your wrist. The same way youâd crossly signal for another driver to go first at a fucking four way stop.Â
He just blinks up at you, owlish.Â
"Well? Are you gonna let me kiss the prettiest girl at this fucking school or what, Li?" The room has gone a little quiet, or maybe the blood is rushing in your ears so bad everything is quiet in comparison.Â
Jordan stares up at you for a moment longer than is comfortable. And you really start to feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you. You donât let yourself shy away from the attention. Not Jordanâs, not anyone elseâs. You straighten your spine and look down your nose at him, and tap your foot. Try to look like the mean girl everyone expects you to be because no one cares who you actually are.Â
As if you could care less if Jordan leaves you stranded right now. As if it will be their loss, if they donât kiss you, instead of the worst moment of your entire life.Â
Jordan shifts.Â
You try not to think of how desperate you must look, when you reach out at a speed that isnât human to hold her face and angle it up, so you can finally fucking kiss the girl you love.Â
You wish you could kiss her like it didnât mean anything. Like sheâs nothing. Like you hate her. But you donât know if this is the only time youâll ever get to kiss Jordan when sheâs your girl, and not your boy. This might be the last time you kiss Jordan ever.Â
It has to be.Â
You close your eyes tight. Try to ignore the way theyâre stinging. You kiss Jordan slow and tender. The way youâve always wanted to. You tangle a hand in her hair, to bring her closer. You try not to marvel at the way the longer strands tangle in your fingertips. She gasps against you, and her hands find your waist and you are too sober to cry over Jordan touching your waist above your clothes. Like a fucking middle-schooler.Â
But the tears start falling anyways. You let out a quiet sob against her lips that you try your hardest to stifle, and Jordan may not have kissed you like this before. But sheâs kissed you plenty. She pulls back, startled, like an animal. Big brown eyes full of concern.Â
And the spell is broken, and you are standing in front of about thirty of the worldâs worst, most unsympathetic human beings, crying, because you kissed your best friend who doesnât want you back.Â
Youâve got ten seconds to leave before someone pulls out their phone and records you. If they havenât already started.Â
So you run.
Through your tears the layout of the house becomes unfamiliar. You try to hide your face a little, and hope people donât recognize you as you pass them by, sobbing openly.Â
Years of pent up feelings are bubbling out of you. The relief. The grief. The way you hate yourself for falling in love with the only person who has ever loved you. Wondering why you couldnât just be grateful for the kindest, most understanding friendship you never even thought yourself worthy of. Why couldnât that have been enough?Â
Why did you fall in love with them?Â
A hand closes around your wrist and you try to yank yourself away but youâre pulled into a bathroom and the door slams shut behind you.Â
You wipe your eyes so you can see whoâs tried to save you from embarrassing yourself any further.Â
Itâs Jordan. Because of course it is.
You burst into tears again.Â
âAre you fucking drunk? What the fuck was that? Y/N what the fuck is happening right now?â Jordan sounds on the verge of a mental break.Â
Sheâs probably wondering what type of things people are gonna start saying about the two of you on social media. Sheâs probably mad at you for giving her a PR mess to clean up.Â
âI��m not drunk!â You protest, sounding a little like someone who might be drunk.Â
âAre you high? What did you take? Lemme see your pupils.â Jordan reaches out to grab your face and you swat her hand away.Â
âNo one fucking drugged me, Jordan. Iâm just a stupid fucking idiot whoâs in love with you! There! Are you happy?! Why donât you go laugh at me with one of your stupid fucking girlfriends. Youâve got so fucking many of them.â You wail, sinking down to the floor, and hiding your face in your arms.Â
The room goes quiet, besides the sound of you crying. Loudly. You think you might be having an anxiety attack. You canât breathe right. But maybe thatâs just from the heaving, toddler-like sobs.Â
âYouâre in love with me?â Jordan asks, quietly.Â
âAs if you donât know!â You snap your head up to glare at her. She kneels down in front of you, and puts her hand on your knee and you try not to get distracted by how pretty she is. âI follow you around like a puppy dog. Like your little shadow. And everyone notices except for you, because you donât want to notice, because you donât fucking want me. I got the message, Jordan. I got it!âÂ
âWhat message?!â Jordan grabs you by the shoulders, voice fraying at the edges, and looks like she wants to shake you.
âYou donât touch me!â Your voice raises to the edge of a yell, and the sound of it echoes in the small room.Â
âWhat are you fucking talking about-â
â-donât be cute, Jordan. You donât touch me when youâre a girl! I thought⌠I thought it was maybe just that you didnât touch girls when youâre a girl but it isnât. Apparently you have plenty of fucking girls that you touch and fuck, when youâre a girl. Itâs just me, that you donât! Whatâs so fucking bad about me? Huh? Whatâs wrong with me? Why donât you want me?â You demand.
You think you might sound like an insane person, and you wish you could pull the words back in but the hurt is bubbling out. A river relishing that first burst of freedom when a dam breaks, no matter how much damage it causes.Â
Jordan is staring at you like youâve grown two heads. Mouth agape. You wish you were dead, a little.
âIâm sorry. Iâm sorry, Jordie.â Your voice goes small, and you sniffle. âI really tried to stop. But I canât, I love you. Iâve probably loved you from that very first day. Because youâre wonderful, youâre the most wonderful person Iâve ever met and I donât know how anyoneâŚâ You trail off, fanning at your eyes to try and pull yourself together. â...I donât know how everyone else knows you without being in love with you. I wish I wasnât in love with you, please donât be mad, please donât fucking-â You sob, again.Â
You find yourself pulled into Jordanâs lap this time. Itâs a foreign feeling, to be touching so much of Jordan when sheâs like this. You bury your face into her neck and cry, and let her black hair block out the fluorescent lighting. She shushes you, cheek pressing against the side of your head, and thatâs familiar. The way she soothes you. Your hands wrinkle the fabric of her jacket, clinging to her tightly.Â
âIâm sorry. I can get over it, I promise. I just needed to tell you. Iâve never kept anything from you before. It was killing me, but I can get over it, Jordie, I promise-âÂ
âHey, hey, hey, no-â Jordanâs turning you to look at her suddenly. âDonât fucking⌠Iâm not⌠Iâm not mad at you or fucking⌠gonna leave you, Y/N. What the fuck? I love you.â
You could start crying from the relief of hearing those words come from her lips again. You thought she wouldnât ever speak to you again. She grabs you by the chin and kisses you, hard, your teeth clink together and your noses mush and you go completely still and frozen, like a scared deer.Â
âI could see the words not fucking register in your brain the way I meant them. I am in love with you. Romantically.â Jordan barely pulls away, you feel her lips brush against yours, every other word.Â
âWhat?âÂ
Jordan laughs, âGood, now youâre just as confused as I fucking was. Why the fuck wouldnât I want you? Iâve always wanted you. YouâreâŚyou.âÂ
âIâm me?â You echo.Â
âI didnâtâŚ. I didnât want to make you feel⌠like everyone else has. Like I was just fucking waiting around for a chance to date you. Or fuck you. As if your friendship doesnât fucking matter. Or was a consolation prize, if I couldnât get you to date me. It isnât a consolation prize. Itâs the most important thing to me in the fucking world.â Jordan laughs, and the sound is suspiciously choked up.Â
âOh.â You say, and are crying. Again. Jordan laughs and wipes the tears away with her thumb.Â
âBut what about when we started having sex? You still⌠never touched me when youâre like this.âÂ
âYouâve never said anything about liking girls.â Jordan says quietly.
âYouâre not just a girl. Youâre the girl. And guy. â You say, holding her hand against your face and kissing her palm fiercely. She laughs again, and puts her forehead against yours.Â
âSo what? Iâm the one girl youâre into?â Jordan raises a brow and doesnât look very happy saying the words, oddly enough.Â
You tilt your head trying to puzzle out why, slowly, you arrive at a conclusion. âI literally talk about girls all the time.âÂ
âWhen?!âÂ
âIâm constantly pointing out pretty ones!â You snap.Â
âI thought you were just being sweet!â Jordan snaps back.Â
You close your eyes and breathe in the smell of her cologne.Â
âYou make me so angry I donât know how to think.â You say, and kiss her bottom lip softly. âYouâre not an⌠experiment, if thatâs what youâre asking. Youâre theâŚâ You trail off, realizing this is not one of your romantic daydreams where youâve thought of the words youâd tell Jordan over and over again.Â
In real life you canât tell people that theyâre the love of your life if you arenât their girlfriend. Unless you want to look crazy.
Jordan, who is your best friend, before sheâs anything else, melts. Because she knows you well enough to know what you arenât saying.
âYeah.â Jordan nods, sniffling once and trying to look very tough even though her lip is quivering a little. âI⌠I love you too. Or whatever.âÂ
âIf it makes you feel better Iâve slept with other women before, to make sure I wasnât just in love with you.âÂ
âWeird fucking thing to tell me after I say I love you, but go off.â She glares at you.Â
âI think you could do with feeling a little jealous. Why am I hearing stories about how good you are at fucking other women while Iâm trying to piss at Vought Burger in peace?âÂ
âWhat?â Jordanâs brow furrows.Â
âThree weeks ago I heard-â
â-I fucking knew youâve been mad at me!â Jordan grabs your waist, pulling you closer.
âYou would have been pissed too, if you heard the shit I was hearing!âÂ
âIf I hear anyone talking about fucking you ever again Iâm going to go to prison.â
âHot.âÂ
âShut up and be my girlfriend.â
âShut up and be my everything.âÂ
âYouâre gross.â But she kisses you, and itâs gentle, and no one else is there to see it.Â
And itâs perfect.
A/N: this is my first time doing full on smut for a fic! it beat me the fuck up. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. and this fic took too damn long to write. xoxoxo
#jordan li x reader#jordan li imagine#black!reader#hey bee are you ever gonna do a non force field power having reader?? great question! answer is no adjkl#forcefields are THE coolest thing you can have#aside from the song she likes a boy i was thinking of hate that i love you rihanna and neyo while writing#if you see a fucking grammer error point it out i need to get this posted so i can MOVE ON adjkl this one has been kicking my ASS
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i feel like we donât talk about this scene from the titanâs curse enough, because i think about this a lot. like⌠a lot. the way he was just like âoh i can move faster than bullets, thatâs coolâ, and then immediately moved on and never thought about it again?? i mean, i knew he could SWIM at mach 5, which isâŚ. hypersonic speed, and equivalent to 3836 miles per hour. and i know all demigods are naturally a bit faster than humans. but like⌠he can move faster than bullets?
i guess i just wasnât expecting perseus to go all spider-man on me, thatâs all
#itâs the way itâs so casually mentioned#and never touched on again#HELLO??#my boy said screw bullets iâm getting to annabeth#percy can move faster than fucking bullets#and can⌠SENSE THEM??#rick explain#percy jackson#pjo#the titans curse#percy jackon and the olympians
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thinking about bird who was sleeping peacefully only to be woken up to soap mauling her. he was so mean and rough with her after a nasty 3 week solo mission got him all frustrated and worked up. shaking and limping into the living room after soap falls asleep snoring on the the bed. simon cooing at her to cmere. was the stupid mutt too rough with you sweet girl? :( he promises to kiss it all better, stroking her sides while he pulls her onto her lap so she can sniffle and shake into the side of his neck. heâs not a good man though and her tears are getting him all worked up :(((( itâs not his fault she looks so pretty when she cries and johnny got her all wet and pliant for him. why shouldnât he bounce her on his cock? :((
#love the thought of him smoking in the living room on his recliner watching the game on tv while he absent mindedly gropes his cock through#his jeans to the sound of soap roughing up their toy in the other room#playing all innocent and sweet giving her little kisses on the cheek and shaking his head over his boy not playing nice w their sweet toy#she can barely protest or move when his thick fingers start to play with her already spent pussy :(#anywhoooo#cod#ghost
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I've been thinking about Kim and Harry in their mid twenties again. Sighs
#i posted those wips and then it took me like a fuckin week to get em done#but here#also in this au harrys still a teacher but kim's doing his time in processing#bc he mentions that he spent some time working processing and i think abt it a lot#anyways#he gets a haircut when he finally moves out of processing and into juvenile#also you can pry Kim with Acne out of my sweaty fucking gorilla paws#disco elysium#harry du bois#kim kitsuragi#harrykim#kimharry#disco elysium art
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guys i got this screenshot while editing and I think you all deserve to see it
who knew the confession scene had such meme potential
#it's from the âyou can say whatever it is you want to say to me if we keep movingâ shot btw#i just found it too funny for some reason#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#payneland#the case of the very long stairway#my dbda posts
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Sonic dressing up baby Tails in something like this
#sonic the hedgehog#miles tails prower#sonic and tails#unbreakable bond#they are cosmic truth#theyâre brothers your honor#baby tails#baby miles tails prower#his little star boy#plot twist the baby takes it off beacuse he canât move#but itâs perfect for nap time or cold weather when baby tails doesnât have his thick fur fully developed#still sonic asks vanilla to make some holes in tha back so the kitâs tails can move freely#and when he gets all dressed up and wags his tails he looks like a tiny comet#star with two tails baby star
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still making gifs, still appreciating George Rexstrew. it's never enough.
#how does he say so much without saying anything at all?!?!?#also i am OBSESSED with the way he moves in that first gif#he is beauty he is grace#I think I cannot let this scene go because we see Edwin's gentleness on full force and I love him the most when he is gentle & kind & soft#dead boy detectives#dbda#edwin payne#edwin payne my beloved#DBDACastAppreciationWeek#dbda cast appreciation week#george rexstrew#George Rexstrew i am obsessed with your portrayal of edwin#can you tell?#my post#my gifs
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Homelander x fem!reader
Homelander cumming in a pair of readers panties and reader finding out and wearing them in public or to work around Homelander
No explicit sex, but- What if cum sock, but it's panties? I didn't proofread this. Undercooked smut, whore(affectionate) used.
Homelander is disgusting, is your first thought as you pick up a pair of your panties. They're crunchy. None of that discharge is yours. You make certain to wash that pair twice.
The second time it happens you're annoyed. Third time? You're resigned to your fate. Now? It's expected. It's not as if you can ask the fucking Homelander to stop fapping with your panties
Sometimes the panties are clearly coated in a suspicious glaze, others there's only the barest scent of him before you toss the panties into the laundry bin. Those you don't mind so much. For the most part, you're resigned to your fate.Â
Homelander is a territorial creature. The man likes to mark you in any way he can. Sinking his teeth in a little too hard. Fingers digging in a little too tight. Practically rubbing himself against you as if to mark you with his scent and of course making certain your always stuffed full of his cum.
Thus it should be no surprise that the moment you walk into the penthouse that afternoon?
Homelander pounces you, strips you, and fucks you as if he hasn't seen you in weeks. It was four hours, jesusfuck you needy little- It's no surprise that even after your rough fucking? -because this round certainly was a rough fuck He still manages to find time to soil your panties. The ones you had carefully taken off and set aside before going at it like animals not even a full thirty minutes ago. The lacey number that matches your bra and won't show a pantyline in the dress you plan to wear tonight. Those panties.
The crime is committed while you were in the shower cleaning up, as there's a charity ball you two must make an appearance at tonight. The culprit has already fled the scene, of course. Bastard.
You pluck up your clearly wrung out panties, inspecting them. A visual once over reveals that at least your lovemaking had robbed Homelander the ability to truly mark up this pair. At worst, they reek of sex and him. Even your perfectly average nose can smell Homelander on the fabric. His super-abled nose would be able to smell it a mile away, you muse.
You pause, eyes on the panties as you turn over that fact in your mind. A low chuckle escapes you as you wriggle back into the panties.Â
It doesn't take long to get dolled up for the event as you make yourself presentable post-shower. You're polished, clean, and looking flawless. You smile at your reflection in one of the many mirrors within Homelander's penthouse before making your way to the elevator.
As you enter the party, Homelander isn't hard to pick out. He's the one in the middle of it all with a flock of sycophants simpering about the supe's feet. They know by now to part in your wake, placid smiles in place that never reach their eyes. Yet, they bow and scrape to you as well. No one would dare give offense to you or get between the Homelander and his woman.
You glide into Homelander's open arms as he throws you a winning smile, finger crooked for you to come closer. You obey, sliding an arm behind his back as his cape flutters with the movement while he tugs you closer into his side. "Missed you," He breathes as he leans closer.
The moment Homelander registers what you've done is obvious to you. His pupils blow out and there's an imperceptible tightening about the give of your waist under his gloved fingertips. He inhales deeper, leaning in to ghost his lips over your forehead as he does so. To onlookers, Homelander is a chaste and affectionate boyfriend. Only you are close enough to hear the growl on his exhale.
You grin wickedly up to Homelander, mirth dancing in your eyes. "You just saw me, you know." You mutter as you tilt your chin up, regarding him. Idly, you start to trace patterns at the small of his back with fingertips. Given your cheeky mood, you slide your palm down and give his backside an affectionate squeeze under the cover of his cape.
Homelander has to bite his bottom lip, swallowing down an eager noise as he shoots you a dangerous look. The sort that says you're going to get it later. Your grin only grows wider, because the event has only started and you know Homelander can't escape yet.
There's a speech to give, investors to schmooze, and rich bastards to wring dry all in the name of charity. Homelander performs admirably, playing the perfect boy scout as with you draped on his arm. His hands never stray from your waist, endlessly chaste. You know it's because if he lets them roam further up or down, Homelander will lose control and then where would you be?
Well-Â
Enjoying yourself for certain, but you've never been one for public sex.
The hours crawl on and you can see your choice to throw Homelander's mess back under his nose is an effective one. The small twitches, how he keeps inhaling deeply any time he leans close, how Homelander can't help but nuzzle into your neck every chance he gets with a storm cloud in his eyes.
This'll be a fun night.
The moment Homelander is let off the event's leash, he's all but dragging you to the elevator and mashing the button to the top floor. He doesn't even wait for the elevator's doors to fully shut before he's on you with a growl. Homelander is hiking up your dress in a flash to see what's underneath. His suspicions are confirmed. Those are the panties he used to work himself off one last time before heading down to the charity event.
"I knew it. You little whore," He chides affectionately as Homelander backs you up against the elevator wall. Those hands are ghosting around the edges of your panties before he unceremoniously yanks them down.
"It's your mess," You shoot back, smirking up at him.
"M'gonna make you such a mess," Homelander purrs back as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, deftly lifting you up with one hand while the other works at the bucket of his belt with practiced ease. You laugh gleefully because Homelander is always a man of his word when it comes to properly ruining you.
#how many drabbles can I start with âHomelander is-â#homelander#homelander x f!reader#homelander x reader#homelander x you#x you#homelander smut#the boys fanfic#the boys smut#homelander writing#anon ask#ask#drabble#I don't know why the read mores keep MOVING in these asks
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snape celebration 2023 week 3 - âthe spyâ
occlumency, before meeting the dark lord.
#*slaps roof of snape* this bad boy can hold so much trauma in him!#the way i approach comics is kinda like frames of an animation..for better or for worse#ahhhh i do wish i could animate..all the snape scenes in my head#this thing took 2 weeks of redrawsâŚ..forcing myself to post it and move on TT.TT#if only i could will art into existence purely from thought!#i do love drawing hands thoughâŚ#mine#severus snape#hp fanart#snape#snapecelebration2023#occlumency
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i could explain why anyone that says "flowey cant feel (positive emotions) because he doesnt have a soul" is wrong but i dont feel like it. all you need to know that as a fellow trauma survivor he is my puppet to project onto whether he likes it or not
read the tags for more i suppose
#flowey is a metaphor#my headcanon is valid and cool and you will like it and accept it#let me isolate both socially and physically for my own safety that wont make it worse haha#said the silly whimsical goat boy after being assaulted and killed by an entire village after agreeing to his sibling sacrifing themselves#and dying in his arms#ptsd/cptsd often comes with a hollow feeling and a fuckton of attachment issues#love alone cannot fix something like that#flowey had no way to cope with it and created a hell of his own making instead#i relate to the emptiness that you drown out with anything you can#the timeloop did not help#i often see the timeloop he trapped himself in as an unhealthy coping mechanism and/or drug almost#frisk is the one who saves him from himself#he can finally learn to move on and just... live#yeah im crazy#flowey#undertale#shitpost#headcanon
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HE'S CHECKING OUT GARY!!!! I REPEAT, HE'S CHECKING OUT GARY!!!!
#i havent posted anything on this site for years and i talk for these bitches..... as it should be#hes doing the marceline sexy smoldering eyes too i cant take this#i havent seen anyone talk about this and i am LOSING it over this detail i need everyone and their mother to know this#i already commented about this on youtube and someone was already doubting like 'i thought hes looking at the lemoncarbs'#AND I WILL SET THE RECORD STRAIGHT. U CAN SEE HIS EYES GO DOWN (TO WHERE GARY'S ASSETS ARE) THEN UP TO MEET HIS EYES WHEN HE LOOKS BACK#the lemoncarbs are clearly to the left where gary is staring at in horror.....keep up people.#he doesnt look at the lemoncarbs once until they started insulting gary's cute lil baking with the 'i hate their little faces' line#and then u can see his eyes move from left (to where lemoncarbs are) to right to look at gary again.#THERE. CASE OVER#I BETTER NOT SEE ANYONE INVALIDATE THEIR OBVIOUS FUCKING FLIRTING OR I WILL#cry. theyre very important to me. i love bubbline/gumlee so much i will die for them#its also funny that hes doing that NOW when our boy is clearly stressed tf out#its giving 'hate to see you leave love to see you go' energy lmaooo#gumlee#adventure time#fionna and cake#adventure time fionna and cake#gary prince#marshall lee
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[Hey, where's Sophie??? She's technically a young woman who only looks like an old woman and besides everyone would vote for her and where's the fun in that?]
#I haven't seen The Wind Rises yet but as far as I can tell there aren't any old ladies in? If I'm wrong I'm sorry to her.#I don't remember there being any old ladies in Nausicaa#hayao miyazaki#studio ghibli#castle in the sky#laputa#my neighbor totoro#kiki's delivery service#Porco Rosso#princess mononoke#spirited away#howl's moving castle#Ponyo#the boy and the heron#post o' mine#tumblr polls
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HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY!!! To this elderly bapy boye!!! he...!!!
#cats#ghhbbb this is the first time I've genuinely considered tumblr blazing a post lol but no.. i shant.. I feel too weird putting financial#information into tumblr or whatever unless I made like a seperate bank account or something not associated with anyhting else lol#but I gave it serious contemplation which is really sayng something (the evil magical spell that all cats cast over u by their perfection)#ANYWAY.................... old man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#it's technically like march 8th but I did his party a little early. I have other pictures to post later maybe too..hrmm#The '1' candle is actually a '4' candle with the side part cut off because they didn't have any 1s#I went all out (like under $15 still lol) and got new birthday decorations for him instead of using the same old#ones from the past like 5 birthdays that I've done for the cats lol..#His theme was rainbows mostly in as light of colors as I could find#The legal age to drive a car in the US is 16 so.... honk honk beep beep.. I shall go out and buy him the most expensive car on the market#as soon as March 8th comes. then he can run little errands (probably mostly getting kibbles or chicken somewhere)#stealing the rotisserie chickens from walmart or something lol#AND they would let him have them. He would drive up and walk inside and they'd call the manager to come over#and they would be so moved by his presence and his big goofy stare that they would just be like..... okey.. have all the chicken in the#entire store. Actually. have the store. it's yours now. And This would continue all the way up the chain until he was handed#the entire walmart company. And every other company. a boy who owns everything. probably wouldnt use it for evil. he'd just abolish#everything and then focus on eating chickens.. ........ chibken son...
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the rage I feel when reading Blood of Olympus chapters 45-56 is almost equivalent in magnitude to the absolute joy I experience when reading The Last Olympian chapters 1-23.
remember when percabeth was good? when they meant the world to each other but had other people they cared about (nico, for one. both of them. so much), other worries and other storylines aside from their romantic plot? and when nico's completed arc wasn't repeated for no reason other than to dump more trauma on the youngest character in the series? when background characters were included in the story not for all the unnecessary last minute romantic subplots but because they were fun and fascinating to learn more about? and were actually friends with main characters? remember when grover was percy and annabeth's best friend forever? and antagonists were actually interesting and intimidating and had compelling goals? and the story revolved around friendship and family and loyalty? and death was definite and loss was palpable and battles were thrilling?
yeah. good times.
#rr crit#pjo#hoo#hoo crit#percy jackson#annabeth chase#percabeth#oh how i love them in pjo. how they loved.#grover underwood#<- remember him?#nico di angelo#will solace#dumpster fire of a canon relationship ->#solangelo#anyway!#last olympian will forever be the best book this man wrote#how can you finish one of your series so perfectly then fuck up so bad while ending the next story#cuz goddamn does blood of olympus boil MY blood#ESPECIALLY those last fucking chapters omg#why would you massacre my boys rick#putting nico and will in a room together for the first time just to turn will into a total asshole. great move thanks a lot!#will had so much potential from his previous appearances#you could've left it at that dream message nico had#that was nice!!! actually!!#instead you ruined all of it with a few chapters#justice for tlo-tlh will solace cuz that was one nice background character with potential to become a great main one day#nico deserves THAT will. not this piece of shit he meets#also nico and percy friendship in hoo is... nonexistent???#what is that about#fucking hell richard
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Diasomnia Spoilers, Chapter 8 (JP)
part 1
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After Idia finishes his explanation of the plan, he makes our Magic Stones able to switch our clothes (like a character customization screen / magical girls lmfao) and we use Silverâs UM to start moving around. The first dream we see is Epelâs
Epel's dream:
In his dream, Epel has a buff body but the same face (also his steps sound like a giant walking lmfao.)
We go to talk to him, but he picks a fight with Sebek. In Epelâs dream heâs taller than both Sebek and Jack (đ). We have to convince him that this dream isnât really what he wants in order to wake him up. He kinda loses it once we mention Vil.
We get blot clones of Vil and Rook that are trying to convince him to stay inside the dream, telling him how much Leona praises him as the best rookie in the magift team and how he embodies the strength and beauty of Pomefiore.
Grim snaps and reminds him of his wish to defeat Neige as the âpoisoned appleâ after the VDC.
Epel finally wakes up and accepts his true appearance. We fight against the fake Vil and Rook. Epel uses his UM to win. After that, Idia (in tablet form) explains the situation him.
Idia gives him the invitation he prepared, and we leave a fake copy of Epelâs body in the dream (the buff one đ) to keep Malleus from finding out too soon.
We then move on to Rookâs dream:
Just as the new SSR showed: we are in a dream where Rook is still a Savanaclaw student. He is not a first year. He recognizes Epel and wonders if Leona asked to see him because of magift.
We try the âVil would be mad if he saw you looking like thatâ strategy on Rook, however he doesnât understand why it would concern him since Vil is an RSA student (âźď¸)
Vil is also Neigeâs best friend (âźď¸âźď¸âźď¸)
Rook begins his fanboy rant about Vil and Neigeâs âfriendship.â He always imagined them as besties, and he keeps talking about their interviews and how they behave with each other. Sebek snaps at him and gets him to shut up for a bit, Rook is apologetic for getting too excited since he doesnât have anyone to talk about this topic in Savanaclaw (đ)
Ortho wants us to go into Rookâs room to get more information about this version of him to wake him up. Rook tries to stop us but we manage to get inside.
His room is decorated floor to ceiling with Neigeâs merch on the left and Vilâs on the right (đđđđ)
Sebek voice: what kind of rituals are you performing here?
Rook has been keeping his room a secret for all of his three years at NRC. He says he canât let us go nowâŚwithout looking at his oshisâ DVD collection first (đđđđđđđ)
5 hours later. Everyone is tired, and Silver even fell asleep for the first time since we got stuck in these dreams.
Epel tries to make him remember the VDC, but in this Rookâs memory Neige sang Minna de Yahoo! alongside Vil. He tells us goodnight and we leave his room.
The group starts to wonder if this dream means that Rook wouldâve preferred to not be friends with Vil, but Epel is against that idea. He thinks that Rook is still thinking about Vilâs overblot, and maybe he believes that if Vil and Neige werenât rivals then Vil wouldnât have gone through all that.
Our plan to make Rook wake up involves going to the Coliseum / VDC stage and sing Absolutely Beautiful (new rhythmic!)
We get a flashback of how we rehearsed the song. Epel guided us and assigned our places. Epel -> Vil / Ortho -> Jamil / Sebek -> Epel / Silver and Grim -> Adeuce combo / Yuu -> Kalim / Idia -> Audience and judge.
Idia is happy to take this role, since he is very strict about idol performances (đ) he also offered to get everything ready
Epel: â¨Really? Thank you, Idia-san! â¨
Idia: Ugh! Itâs too dazzling! For a moment I thought Iâd been reincarnated into an idol training game-
Idia: Pomefiore is frighteningâŚ.
Idia: I mean, doesnât this kinda make me a manager or a boys' idol group P?
Idia: âIdia ManagerââŚ.âShroud PââŚ..Hah! It doesnât sound too bad~
note: in the type of idol games Idia is talking about, the P stands for âProducerâ (time to Ensemble our Stars)
Rook begins to wake up, but blot clones of Vil and Neige appear. They begin to sing Minna de Yahoo! and Rook gets distracted again. Epel starts to scream at him
Epel: Look closely! The real Vil-san looks more wicked, and his eyebrows are so angled! His eyes are so sharp that his stare will make your heart skip a beat!
Epel: Your Roi de Poison! Our Queen! He is far more Poisonous and Beautiful [than the fake]!
Rook: PoisonousâŚBeautifulâŚ?
Epel: Donât you dare give out the words Vil-san wanted the most that day to those fakes! Youâre a worse traitor now than when you voted for the Royal Sword Academy! (ouch)
Epel: Come on, wake up! ROOK HUNTEEEER!
Rook: One vote for RSAâŚtraitorâŚugh!
Rook: Ugh!âŚ.thatâs rightâŚin this worldâŚthe most beautiful thing in this world isâŚARGH!
Rook wakes up, but the fakes are still trying to distract him. ( shoutout to Vilâs VA, this Vil speaks in a moreâŚprincely? manner. Definitely not Our Vil)
Rook knows this is a dream, but he still feels guilty about pointing his arrow at them
(Groovy spoiler for Rook's new SSR)
Fake Vil voice: Neige get behind me!
â¨MAGICAL GIRL TRANSFORMATIONâ¨
We defeat the blot clones, and Rook and Epel have their reunion
Meanwhile Sebek and Idia:
Sebek: I canât believe itâŚyouâre not only making me fight, but also dance.
Idia: Hehe. I managed to get a good recording of the magnificent Sebek-shi waving his arms and feet in such a clumsy manner.
Sebek: You-! Turn that off! If you show this to anyone, I will not let you get away with it!
Rook notices Idia and is moved by him âguiding the underclassmen as a Dorm Leaderâ (đ)
Idia is like âeh? Not reallyâŚIâm more of a P or a managerâŚâ
Rook asks him to explain what happened at Liliaâs farewell party. Idia shows him the video too. Rook joins our party, receives the invitation, and leaves a clone behind. We move onto the next dream.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst jp#twst spoilers#diasomnia spoilers#diasomnia chapter#my translation#working on mobile so I ran out of image space for Vilâs dream#hopefully Rook can breathe easier now#let the boy move on from the VDC!
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