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#and now i've come to love them and put them in so many things
slasherscream · 1 day
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She Likes a Boy (And I’m Not Just a Boy)
pairing:  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.
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gif credit: artemidosgifs and stannyramirez
“Oh shit, Jordie, wait-” You can’t catch your breath, legs shaking where they’re thrown over Jordan’s shoulders. 
“Stop fucking squirming.” 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 Jordan’s room? It’s hard to keep track of anything, when you’re with them. His tongue finds your clit again. Insistent, rough swipes. You’re too overworked now for anything gentle to even register. How many times have you cum now? 
“You always taste so fucking good.” 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 can’t move. Jordan’s eyes are always glued to your face when you fuck. As if he’s daring you to shy away from whatever he’ll do to you next. 
Considering that his favorite thing to do is overstimulate you, you’re not sure the irritation is fair. What are you supposed to do when he’s made you cum four times and is still going? According to Jordan, the answer is simple: lie there and take it. 
Lifting you up. Pinning you down. These are the solutions he’s arrived at. Jordan hates having to chase you just to give you the orgasm you begged him for in the first place. 
“You ready for my fingers again?” Jordan asks, but it’s not a real question, because you don’t get to so much as gasp before he’s plunging three fingers into you again. 
He’s 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. 
“Fucking shit, Jordan!” Your hands fall into his hair, grip like a vice, and Jordan half moans and half laughs against you.
It’s 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. 
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.
“I can feel you smirking, jerk.” You laugh weakly, hitting his arm.
“You soaked my fucking fingers. Think I'm allowed a smirk.” Jordan says. 
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. 
“I'll tell you what you're allowed.” You tease, grinning at him. 
“Hah! Always have enough energy to be a fucking brat, huh?” Jordan rolls his eyes. 
You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. “I've got enough energy to make out too! Gimme a kiss.”
“Fucking insatiable.” Jordan scoffs, but gives in. Because he always does. 
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. 
“Yeah princess? You want me again?” 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. 
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. 
“Gonna be good for me?” Jordan asks.
You nod your head frantically, legs dragging him closer. It's never close enough. No matter what you do. 
“Yeah, I'll be good, Jordie.” You say the words he wants to hear, feeling your head go soft and thoughtless again.
“Fucking liar.” He grinds his hips into yours and chokes you harder when you clench around him. 
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You’d 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 didn’t even feel like getting to know one another. It just felt like coming home.
You didn’t 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. 
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. 
Jordan saw you too, in turn. You’d never felt like much more than a pretty face, before Jordan. 
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: ‘she’s so pretty’, and ‘well look at her!’, or ‘oh wow!’ 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. 
A man and woman showed up a day later in suits, wanting to meet you personally.
“She sure is a little looker, isn’t she?” The man had said, and he’d held your hand for too long before he let go. 
They’d 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. You’d never worn a skirt that short before. You hadn’t been allowed, hadn’t even wanted to, really. If you’d 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. 
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. 
“What about school?” You’d asked, quietly, and everyone in the room had turned to look at you baffled. 
“What about school, sweetheart?” The woman laughed. “You’ll get a private tutor, of course. But your future is big. You won’t even have to worry about stuff like that anymore. Goodbye lame homework. Hello red carpets!” 
You sat very quietly until they left. Your parents were more angry than you’d ever seen them, when you told them you wanted to wait until after high-school to pursue being a hero. 
You knew telling them you weren’t sure you wanted to do it at all was off the table. 
During high-school you noticed people didn’t 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. 
You stopped talking so much about things you cared about. No one listened anyways. 
‘Bimbo.’
‘Airhead.’
‘Slut.’ 
Were all things you’d heard before you’d ever gone on your first date. Gotten so much as your first kiss on the cheek. High-school was lonely, and you couldn’t talk about it being lonely without sounding like an asshole, you quickly realized. The few friends you had would roll their eyes when you’d 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.
‘Look at me, I’m Y/N, and life’s so hard because I’m so pretty and popular. Is she fucking serious? Stuck up bitch.’ 
You stopped venting.
When you got to God-U, you weren’t sure what to expect. College was a chance to reinvent yourself. Even if you weren’t sure you wanted to be a Superhero you knew this could be a chance to find your people. Lifelong friends. 
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. 
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 you’d gotten all your life from girls, and you knew you’d 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 you’d put them in a fucking burn book. The look alone almost made you give up and just go home. 
You went for a walk instead, fighting back tears. That’s when you ran into Jordan. Literally, ran into Jordan. You knocked the both of you to the ground. 
When they’d snapped, “What the fuck dude?” at you, harsh and angry and very them, you’d burst into tears. 
It wasn’t the perfect way to meet your person. But you were glad you met them at all. 
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 “Stop moving your eyes away from the screen.” Jordan says. 
“I’m not allowed to move my eyes away from the screen?” You laugh.
“No, this part is really important. You have to pay attention. I wanna see if you catch it.” 
You try your best to keep your eyes glued to the screen, as instructed. But you can’t help the way you keep glancing towards Jordan. She looks good. She always looks good, but right now you don’t 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. 
“Are you watching?” Jordan asks, and you smile at the excitement in her voice. 
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. 
“Did you see that in the background?” You shake her again, for good measure.
“I saw it.” Jordan laughs.
“That means that he killed the wife!” 
“How do you figure?”
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 don’t know whether you love or hate that look. Your feelings on the matter change day to day. 
Jordan is leaned up into the arm of the couch, relaxed, and she’s 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. 
Jordan had asked you, back then, why you always stopped telling stories halfway through, or stopped talking about your day, or the latest book you’d read. 
You wanted to lie, at first. Eventually you told a half truth, “I never have anything interesting to say.” 
Jordan had looked at you for a long time. You were worried that somehow, up until that moment, they hadn’t 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. 
Instead, Jordan had told you that she loved the way your mind worked, and she’d smiled The Smile at you, for the first time. You hadn’t known how to respond, to the words, or the smile. You turned the conversation back towards Brink’s latest class assignment. 
Later that night you’d gone back to your dorm room and cried, but you’d felt happier than you’d ever felt. 
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. 
“Well?” Jordan nudges you with her foot, still smiling, and waiting for you. 
You shake your head to break free of the spell she puts you in, “Well, 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, didn’t he?” 
Jordan pauses for a second and then laughs. “I don’t know how you always guess right. I didn’t see the twist coming at all the first time I watched it.”
“Secondary super power.”
“Connecting all the dots?”
“Connecting all the dots, yeah.” 
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“Y/N! Y/N, thank fucking god, you gotta come with me.” Cate grabbed you by the arm, rougher than she’d ever touched you before. 
“I was on my way to class.” You tripped over your feet as Cate pulled you the opposite way you needed to go.
“Forget class! Jordan’s gonna get themself expelled.” Cate snapped. 
“What?!” 
“They’re beating the shit out of Peter in the locker room. Luke’s not on campus. I can’t get close enough to stop them-”
You’d broken into a sprint towards the fighting arena. You didn’t 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. 
You’d never gotten anywhere so fast in your life. Andre was standing steadfast in front of the entrance to the boy’s locker room, a small group of other students standing outside. You could hear the sounds of fighting pouring out from the door. 
“Back it up you fucking vultures.” Andre snipped. He might not have super strength but he was still Number 4, and could look intimidating when he needed to. 
“Andre, what’s going on?” You pushed to the front of the crowd. 
“Thank fuck Cate found you. You gotta get in there. Jordan’s gonna fucking mur-” 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, “Jordan is actually gonna fucking kill Peter. I’ll keep the crowds back. Get in there.” 
You moved past him into the locker room and your jaw dropped at the state of the place. 
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.
“Get off of me you fucking animal.” You heard Peter cry from further in the room and ran. 
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. 
“You 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.” 
Peter laughs through a mouth full of blood,“Not my fault she gave it up so easy, Li-” 
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. 
“Y/N?” You can see some of the anger fade from Jordan’s face, just a little, at the sight of you.
“Hey, Jordie. Think Peter has had enough.”
Jordan scoffs, “No, he really fucking hasn’t,” he leans around you to yell at Peter, who’s trying to push himself onto his knees, “He’s still running his fucking mouth!” 
“Pussy whipped asshole-” Peter groans.
You glance at Peter on the floor, aghast, “Peter! Stop antagonizing, Jordan. What’s wrong with you?” 
“Unbelievable, honestly. You walk in on Jordan kicking my ass and you tell me to stop antagonizing the fucker?” Peter huffs, pushing his nose back into place so it won’t heal wrong. 
“Name calling isn’t gonna make him stop kicking your ass. I’m trying to help.” You shoot back.
“Well, no one needs your help, you dumb-” 
“Hey.” Jordan interrupts. He’s not yelling anymore, but his voice is the loudest thing in the room. “Watch your mouth, Peter. I fucking mean it.” 
You look back and forth between them. They watch each other for a long moment. Jordan looking eerily calm. Peter looks away first. 
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. Come on, Y/N.” 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. 
He doesn’t stop until you’re back in his dorm room and he’s shut the door behind the two of you. 
“You were fucking that loser?” He asks, clicking the lock into place.    
“You’re lucky Andre and Cate kept people out of the locker room so there’s no video of everything! You could get expelled, Jordan! What the fuck happened?” 
“He hit me first and he’s not even in the top ten. What’s he at? Number 14? No one’ll give a shit what happens to him. When did you start fucking him?”
“I’m not fucking him! Or… I’m not just, fucking him. I’m… I was dating him. Why were you two fighting?” 
“Dating? For how fucking long? You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.” Jordan’s hair is already a disheveled mess. He yanks his fingers through the strands and makes it worse. 
“We’ve been going on dates for like… three months? Kinda? Maybe.” You say quietly. 
“Three months?! Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me? What the fuck?” 
“Why are you so mad?”
“Friends talk to each other about shit like this! And if you’d talked to me, I would have told you that Peter is a clout chasing piece of shit that’ll never amount to anything. You should’ve heard the shit he was saying today. Fucking piece of shit!” 
“That’s why you were fighting?” You wring your hands together, a knot tying itself over and over in your stomach. “What did he say?”
Jordan stops pacing the room, goes still and turns away from you. 
“Well? What did he say? It was bad enough to make you two beat the shit out of each other! So what was it?” 
“He just… You don’t have to worry about it, okay? He won’t go near you again.” Jordan says firmly.
“Whatever he said he’s gonna keep saying. Just behind my back. I should know.”
Jordan sighs and moves to sit beside you on his couch, knee bouncing with anxiety. “He was… bragging to his shitty friends. About being the first guy on campus to fuck you. About how it didn’t even take that long and… how… he was thinking of recording you. So he could show them how slutty you are. It was…. fucking disgusting.” 
“Oh.” You say. 
You swallow around the lump in your throat. You’d 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. You’d spent nights staying up on the phone laughing and talking. You’d put off sleeping with Peter for a whole two months, even though you liked him, because you wanted to make sure he liked you. 
You hadn’t 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. You’re just something pretty to look at. Even Vought doesn’t take you seriously, despite your powers. You’re 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. 
You wipe at your burning eyes and try not to cry about something you’ve already accepted. 
“Fuck that guy. Fuck him. He’s so far beneath your level I’m surprised you can perceive his plane of fucking existence, okay? He’s a fucking single cell organism. He doesn’t even know what a brain is.” Jordan gets up from the couch to kneel in front of you, tries to look you in the eyes. 
“I’m so fucking stupid.” 
“No, you fucking are not. Don’t say that about yourself. He’s fucking stupid. It’s genuinely insane you even wasted your time with him. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing anyone?” Jordan asks, voice quiet.
“I just…. I wanted to make sure he was actually gonna stick around before I even brought him up to you. You’re so … important, why tell you about someone who isn’t? It’s not like you write home to me about any of the people you mess around with! We’ve never really talked about this kind of stuff.” 
“Yeah, but it’s different. I’m not serious about anyone! You were actually dating, Peter. And I would have told you not to.” Jordan rolls his eyes.
“Well, I wanted to make sure it was serious. Before I even said anything.” 
“It wouldn’t have gotten serious if you’d told me about it in the first place. I wouldn’t have let Peter within ten feet of you!” 
“We’re talking in circles.” You huff in frustration, pressing your palms into your eyes to stop the stinging.
“Sorry, I just…. Fucking still wish I was beating the shit out of him, honestly.” Jordan says.
“You are not leaving this room for the rest of the day, Li. Even if he is Number 14, you can’t walk away from a fight then go back for seconds cause you didn’t get it all out the first time. That won’t hold up too well in court.”
“He heals too fast for there to be any marks left on him. It’ll all be hearsay.” Jordan smirks.  
You let out a weak laugh. Jordan reaches out, touching the corner of your lips. “Can we shoot for something a little bigger? If I don’t see you smile soon I’ll actually go kill him.” 
You roll your eyes and slide to the edge of the couch, so you’re resting your head on Jordan’s shoulder, leaning all your weight against him. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles into your spine.
“I really wanted it to work out, Jordan.” You mumble into the skin of his collarbone.
“With fucking Peter?” 
“With… anyone.” Your voice wavers and Jordan’s grip gets tighter. “It’s so fucking lonely. I just want to be someone’s 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.” The tears start falling now and Jordan pulls back and makes you look up at him, one hand on your cheek. 
“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I fucking… I like you. I’ve always liked you.” Jordan says, frantic as he wipes away the tears as they come.
“It’s not the same, Jordan!” You shake your head, and bite your lip. You’d almost said it’s not enough. Because it isn’t. But you can't think about that for too long. It makes the hole in you ache a little worse. 
“Yeah….guess it’s not.” Jordan says quietly. He keeps wiping away the tears, dutiful and gentle as he goes. 
“You said he hit you first?” You ask, after a long moment of him quietly soothing you.
“Come on, I’m not stupid. Had to let him get the first swing in.” Jordan smirked.
“What did you say to make him hit you?” You ask.
“Told him he was lucky you believe in charity work and giving back to the fucking needy.” 
It’s 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 don’t notice it, too busy laughing. 
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“Y/N, good to see you dear. You keeping our Jordan out of trouble?” Brink asks as he comes out of his office, not surprised to see you perched on Jordan’s desk. 
“Professor, we both know that I’m the one getting Jordan into trouble.” You flash the older man your most mischievous grin. 
“Ah, my apologies. I assume that means you’re distracting her from doing her work, as well?” Brink raises an eyebrow teasingly. 
“Yes.” You say.
“No.” Jordan protests, at the same time. 
You throw your head back with a laugh. “It’s a goal I hold most dear to my heart, to distract Jordan from grading these papers. I think I’m succeeding wonderfully, you’ll be happy to know, Professor.” 
“She’s joking, Professor.” 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 she’s like this. 
“You know, Jordan, I didn’t happen to lose my sense of humor after I hit sixty.” Brink waves off Jordan’s concern and leans towards the two of you, whispering conspiratorially, “I know the gray hair gives the illusion of being a boring old fart, but I do like to laugh every now and then.”
Jordan shakes her head with a small laugh and you can’t 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 Jordan’s desk. It’s suddenly fascinating. Is it real oak? Cherry?
“You close to being done, Jordan?” Brink asks casually. 
“Uh-” Jordan’s face blanches and you suddenly feel genuinely sorry for distracting her from her work. 
“-relax, kiddo. You’re not in trouble. Geez, what am I, a work nazi? Those papers don’t need to be graded for another four days, right? You work too hard. I was just asking cause’ I was getting a little hungry myself and wanted to know if you could use a break? There’s a great new Indian place nearby, apparently. Professor. Karp was telling me about it yesterday. It’s only a twenty minute ride away. Wanna tag along?” 
“I should probably finish up a few more papers-” 
“She would love to take a break, Professor.” You reach over, saving the work Jordan’s done and shutting down her laptop at lightning speed. 
“Brat.” Jordan mouths the word at you quickly, so Brink won’t see. 
You stick your tongue out at her, not caring if anyone sees. 
“You should come along too, Y/N. Been awhile since we last caught up.” Brink has a twinkle in his eye that you can’t quite place.
You slide off Jordan’s desk anyways, not willing to pass up any valuable Time Spent With Jordan, “I’m not sure if I trust Professor Karp’s recommendation on restaurants, but I’ll try and be very brave about it if the food is awful.”
“Jordan, have I ever told you how much I love this girl?” Professor Brink shrugs on his coat with a laugh. 
“Yeah.” Jordan watches Brink help you into your own coat with a small smile. “Yeah, Professor you have.” 
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“Fucking fuck me!” Jordan throws her phone onto the coffee table in front of her.
“Are the parental units being emotional terrorists again?” 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. 
“No, it’s just the whole fucking roster is busy.” Jordan roughly runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her bob. 
“Huh?” You look up from your notes.
“The whole roster is locked in for finals but I really need to let off some fucking steam!” Jordan sighs.
“How big is the roster?” You try to sound curious, like a best friend would be, and not irritated, like someone in love with their best friend would be. 
“Too big for me to not be fucking someone right now.” Jordan snips. 
“We are studying right now. Or I’m studying, and you should be studying too, instead of thinking about needing to get your rocks off.” You say coolly, flipping to the next page. 
“I can’t fucking focus.” Jordan groans, but comes back over to the bed and flops down beside you, throwing her arm over her eyes. “What concept are we on now?” 
“Theories on limiting public and private property damage in fights with other Supes.”
“There is no fucking way I can focus on something that fucking boring without having an orgasm first.”Jordan groans, again, “It’s not even about limiting loss of human life or injury?”
“Nope. Property damage.” 
“Fuck me!” 
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. 
Your mouth is opening before you can stop yourself, “You could fuck me.”
“Huh?” You’ve never seen Jordan sit up so fast.
“I just mean- … we really gotta focus and I... I mean if you just need to let off some steam we could always…” 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. 
“Are you serious right now?” Jordan shifts halfway through the sentence, eyes glued to your every nervous, jittery movement as you sit in front of him.
“Wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t a real offer.” You say quietly, not looking up from the book. 
Jordan snatches said book from your lap and tosses it away, ignoring your noise of protest. “You don’t think it’d make things weird?” 
“Weird 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?” You try to say it casually. 
“Would… would it be a one time thing?” Jordan asks slowly.  
“It could be more… we could be-” You say, equally as slow. 
“- could be?” Jordan echoes, voice sounding oddly tight and expression carefully blank.
The look is so strange it makes you panic, and if you’d thought of saying something stupid and desperate for one second like ‘a couple’, well, that look on his face is more than enough to send you straight back to reality on the ‘my-life-fucking-sucks’ express in no time flat.
“We could be like friends with benefits!” You blurt out in one breath. 
“Oh.” Jordan says. 
“It was just an idea.” You reach for the textbook again, which landed near Jordan’s thigh. You’re 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. “A stupid idea, forget it.”
“Why’s it stupid?” Jordan’s brow furrows, tone teetering on the edge of defensive. 
“I mean…” You can’t think of a reason fast enough. “We’re probably sexually incompatible.” 
“Why do you assume that?” Jordan goes from staring at you, to glaring at you. 
You’ve always hated how once Jordan latches on to a line of questioning, you can’t get them to drop that interrogation for shit. A dog with a bone has nothing on a Jordan who wants an answer.
“I don’t… know?” You say, but it sounds like a question. 
“I think we’d be compatible.” Jordan states this like he’d state the sky is blue or water is wet. 
“Have you thought about it before?” You ask, bewildered. 
“What, are you into something really kinky?” Jordan answers your previous question not at all.
“No!” There goes that nervous body language of yours again. 
“Only way to really know if we’re sexually compatible is to actually try it out.” Suddenly, Jordan is within your personal space bubble. 
You don’t really know how to react, your body freezes up on instinct. Jordan’s hand comes up to rub soothing circles into the crook of your elbow. Your shoulders fall away from your ears.
“Can I kiss you?” Jordan’s 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 can’t place at all. 
You feel his breath on your lips and nod absentmindedly. 
“Don’t want you to nod when I ask you a question like this. Yes or no, Y/N?” 
“Ye-” 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. 
You pull yourself into Jordan’s lap and try to focus on how good it feels when he nips at your bottom lip, instead of how much you wished you’d asked him to be your boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. Everything. Even if he’d said no, at least then you would have had an answer. Now you’ve only made your life harder. 
You stop thinking so much when Jordan puts a hand on your hip and guides you to grind yourself against him. 
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“Y/N’s right.” Jordan mutters, not looking up from his phone. 
“No, she is not. You’re just agreeing with her because that’s your default factory setting. Listen to the context of the argument please.” Andre snaps, drowning his Vought Triple meat burger in ketchup.
“I did. Your grim dark theory on children’s media is lame, and Y/N knows more about the Monster’s Inc universe than you ever will.” Jordan shrugs.
“Hah!” You laugh in Andre’s face.
“Is it really such a flex to be an expert on the lore of a Pixar movie universe?” Cate asks teasingly. 
“Yes.” You say. 
“No.” Andre says, like a sore loser.  
“I agree with Y/N, it’s literally in the explicit text of the movie, Monsters Inc isn’t a post-apocalyptic world. It’s 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.” 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. 
“I’m glad someone pays attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You sniff haughtily. 
“I literally agreed with you first.” Jordan looks at you from over the top of her phone in a way that makes you blush. 
“I’m glad two people are paying attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You clear your throat. 
“Thank you.” Jordan’s intense brown eyes fall away from you and you take a gulp of your drink. 
“Bathroom alert, Y/N. A stall just opened up.” Cate tells you pointing to the bathroom door right as another girl exits. 
“I am kissing you on the lips, telepathically.” You say, sliding from the booth you’re all sharing.
“Don’t you telepathically lip lock with my girlfriend.” Luke calls after you, laughing.
“Get some powers of telepathy yourself and make me, fire boy.” You enter the bathroom, shutting out the sounds of laughter from your table with a smile. 
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. 
“So how was it?” A monotone voice asks, you assume one of the hand washers.
“You know I don’t usually kiss and tell, but it was insane.” A higher, more giggly voice answers. 
“So they really are good in bed then, huh?” The monotone voice sounds a little more curious. 
“Incredible. All the rumors are true. They’re a little… uh, brusque, about the after sex part, if I’m putting it lightly, but the sex itself was great!” The high voice chirps. 
“What? Did they throw you a towel and tell you to kick rocks?” The monotone voice asks. 
“Pretty much.” The high voice sighs. “But they made me cum so many times I think I’d still pick up if they called me again. You think they might?” 
“I say this with all the love in the world: girl stand up.” Monotone voice drawls. 
“You wouldn’t be telling me that if you knew how good it felt to sit on her face.” 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, they’re not being that quiet about the conversation anyways. 
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Or 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.” 
“Jordan Li, pussy eating extraordinaire. Can we go now? Our food is probably ready.” Monotone voice sighs. 
“Fine, but I’m telling you, the things they can do with a strap are-” 
The voices fade away with the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. 
You find you don’t 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 Cate’s concerned gaze boring into the side of your skull. 
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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 don’t want to touch you when they’re a girl. You wonder what about you is so uniquely off putting. You wonder why it can’t be you. Why can’t it ever fucking be you? 
Jordan barges into your room on day three of the silent treatment that you told the group chat was due to a raging fever. 
Luckily your eyes, swollen shut from all the crying, and the red nose to match, corroborate the story. 
“We got it all. We’ve 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.” Jordan begins to unpack everything onto your counter. 
“I don’t want to take anything.” You say morosely, and a little mean, kind of wanting to hate them but just feeling sad. Jordan’s your best friend before anything else, and you could never hate your first real friend. 
“Come on, just a little something. You sound fucked up.” Jordan practically coos, touching your forehead. “Feels like your fever’s gone down a little. Sit up for me.” He says, and pulls you to sit up when you don’t do it on your own.  
“I don’t want to fucking-” 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. 
“Thanks for that. That was really fun for me.” You snap once you’re done.
“It’s for pain and should bring down the rest of your fever.” Jordan lays you back down, tucking the covers all the way up to your chin. You marvel at the way he doesn’t rise to the bait of your very clear attitude. Jordan, catching the look on your face offers you a small glare. “I’m worried. You usually don’t get sick. I’ll check that attitude when you’re better. Now, do you want the damn hot toddy or not?” He rubs your head soothingly.
“Yes, please.” You try not to pout as you watch Jordan make the drink for you. You really hate how hard it is to hate them. “Sorry, Jordie.” 
“Oh, you can go ahead and save that apology for when I make you cry into your pillow, yeah?” Jordan doesn’t even look up from measuring the ingredients.
You pull the covers over your head and leave them there until Jordan pulls them back down. 
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You almost hadn’t come to the party. 
You weren’t 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 you’d promised to come. The group bullying hadn’t worked so much as Jordan asking you one single time to go had.
So here you were. 
You’d been nursing one drink for the better part of an hour and hadn’t 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. 
At the moment you’re nearly sober. Because you didn’t so much as want to touch Jordan right now. Let alone do something like snort a line off of him. Then you’d 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. 
And you think, for the sake of your sanity, you need to be done fucking Jordan Li. 
It’s been about three weeks since you were “sick” and you’d 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 didn’t hang out alone with them and pretended not to see Jordan’s ‘you up?’ texts until morning. 
Your friendship just needs a hard reset. This time spent not having sex will do it. 
Besides, it’s not like Jordan isn’t swimming in fucking choices. What does it matter if you’re one less body off the menu? There are plenty of hot girls at this school. Jordan’s probably already fucked half of them.
You throw back the rest of the drink you’ve been nursing all at once.
“Are you okay?” Cate puts a hand on your arm and you offer her a blinding, completely fake smile. 
“Yeah!” You say, as chipper as possible.
“Jesus christ.” Cate replies, face going all sad and concerned. “What did Jordan do?” 
“Huh?” You blink, confused.
“You are the most pissed off I’ve ever seen you. What did Jordan do? You’ve been avoiding them for like two weeks. What gives?” Cate pulls you closer by the arm so that she doesn’t have to shout over the music. 
“Nothing!” 
“Can you try to lie again but do it better, this time?” Cate frowns.
“Jesus Christ, does everything have to be about Jordan? Must my whole entire goddamn life revolve around Jordan Li?” You snap, the way someone who isn’t mad about anything does.  
“Okay.” Cate says slowly. Like she’s trying to placate a wild animal. 
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. 
“Y/N-”
“I’m fine, Cate. I just have to get over it.” 
“Get over what?” Cate narrows her eyes at you. That shrewd look she sometimes wears when she knows something before someone else falls onto her face. 
You wonder if you’re 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? 
“So, this is where the real party is hiding!” 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 they’re pretty damn close. Especially when it comes to you. 
You’ve never moved away from them holding you close like this before, so you can’t do it now. You try to just be still. Don’t lean into his warmth, but don’t 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. 
“-Princess?” Jordan gives you a gentle shake and your head snaps to the side to look at him. “You okay?”
“Yup!” Apparently, you didn’t 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. “I’m gonna head out, though.” 
“What?!” Twin exclamations of confusion form Jordan and Cate both.
“Not feeling it. I think I need to get some more sleep. I got a headache, or… something.” You shrug.
“Or something?” Jordan echoes.
“You are not going anywhere, yet, dear friend.” Andre throws his own arm around you, appearing from thin air, and tugging you away from Jordan. You’ve never been more grateful to him. 
“How do you figure that?” You laugh.
“We’re about to play truth or dare in the other room and you dodged playing last time. You can leave after you’ve played. You can’t get known as the truth or dare dodger.” Andre says. 
“You say that as if being a party game dodger is like being known for dodging the Vietnam draft.” You snort.
“No, it’s worse. People that dodged the Vietnam drafts are heroes. Truth or dare dodgers are cowards. Come on.” Andre begins to drag you towards the other room and you go along with minimal dragging of your feet across the floor. 
The room is crowded, but all the faces are familiar. They’re 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. 
You wish you’d 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. 
This does not make Truth or Dare more fun to watch. 
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 don’t like each other very much, but all call each other friends anyways. 
“Earth to Y/N the space cadet.” 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. 
“What?”
“Cate picked you. Truth or dare.” She says the words ominously, causing teasing jeering to rise from the entire group. 
“Well, Y/N, what’s it gonna be?” Cate raises her eyebrow at you challengingly. 
“She doesn’t have to play if she doesn’t want to, guys.” Jordan rolls his eyes.
“Dare.” You say, wanting to get this over with. 
The room erupts into excited noise. You don’t know why. Cate, of all people, would never force you to do anything humiliating. Or truly scandalous. It’s 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. 
As if Cate isn’t your closest friend beside Jordan. As if she’d abuse the trust you place in her. It makes you sick. You don’t wanna be here. At this party, or at this stupid fucking school.
“I dare you…. to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” 
“What?!” Jordan turns to give Cate the nastiest, most disgusted glare you’ve ever seen.
“She doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to. You know I’m all about consent.” Cate shrugs innocently, crossing her legs together and giving you a smirk. 
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 you’re not one of those.) But there’s only one girl you want to kiss at this party. 
There’s only one person in the world you want to kiss at all. 
You take a shaky breath, feeling like the walls are closing in. Andre nudges you subtly, catches your eye, as if to say: ‘you okay?’ but there’s something else in the look too. Something that says it’s 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 they’re too fucking smart not to, and they’re choosing to ignore it. Because it’s easier that way. Because your feelings are probably too inconvenient. Because you’re not their type. Because you’re clingy, and stupid, and not good enough- 
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. 
You walk past every other girl in the room, and stand in front of Jordan, who still isn’t 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 it’s really too fucking much, for someone as smart as Jordan to look so confused. So fucking baffled, about what’s happening here. But it’s a pretty convincing act. That only makes you more angry. 
You make an impatient motion with your hand. A ‘do it already’ movement of your wrist. The same way you’d crossly signal for another driver to go first at a fucking four way stop. 
He just blinks up at you, owlish. 
"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. 
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 don’t let yourself shy away from the attention. Not Jordan’s, not anyone else’s. 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. 
As if you could care less if Jordan leaves you stranded right now. As if it will be their loss, if they don’t kiss you, instead of the worst moment of your entire life. 
Jordan shifts. 
You try not to think of how desperate you must look, when you reach out at a speed that isn’t human to hold her face and angle it up, so you can finally fucking kiss the girl you love. 
You wish you could kiss her like it didn’t mean anything. Like she’s nothing. Like you hate her. But you don’t know if this is the only time you’ll ever get to kiss Jordan when she’s your girl, and not your boy. This might be the last time you kiss Jordan ever. 
It has to be. 
You close your eyes tight. Try to ignore the way they’re stinging. You kiss Jordan slow and tender. The way you’ve 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. 
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 she’s kissed you plenty. She pulls back, startled, like an animal. Big brown eyes full of concern. 
And the spell is broken, and you are standing in front of about thirty of the world’s worst, most unsympathetic human beings, crying, because you kissed your best friend who doesn’t want you back. 
You’ve got ten seconds to leave before someone pulls out their phone and records you. If they haven’t already started. 
So you run.
Through your tears the layout of the house becomes unfamiliar. You try to hide your face a little, and hope people don’t recognize you as you pass them by, sobbing openly. 
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 couldn’t just be grateful for the kindest, most understanding friendship you never even thought yourself worthy of. Why couldn’t that have been enough? 
Why did you fall in love with them? 
A hand closes around your wrist and you try to yank yourself away but you’re pulled into a bathroom and the door slams shut behind you. 
You wipe your eyes so you can see who’s tried to save you from embarrassing yourself any further. 
It’s Jordan. Because of course it is.
You burst into tears again. 
“Are you fucking drunk? What the fuck was that? Y/N what the fuck is happening right now?” Jordan sounds on the verge of a mental break. 
She’s probably wondering what type of things people are gonna start saying about the two of you on social media. She’s probably mad at you for giving her a PR mess to clean up. 
“I’m not drunk!” You protest, sounding a little like someone who might be drunk. 
“Are you high? What did you take? Lemme see your pupils.” Jordan reaches out to grab your face and you swat her hand away. 
“No one fucking drugged me, Jordan. I’m just a stupid fucking idiot who’s in love with you! There! Are you happy?! Why don’t you go laugh at me with one of your stupid fucking girlfriends. You’ve got so fucking many of them.” You wail, sinking down to the floor, and hiding your face in your arms. 
The room goes quiet, besides the sound of you crying. Loudly. You think you might be having an anxiety attack. You can’t breathe right. But maybe that’s just from the heaving, toddler-like sobs. 
“You’re in love with me?” Jordan asks, quietly. 
“As if you don’t know!” 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. “I follow you around like a puppy dog. Like your little shadow. And everyone notices except for you, because you don’t want to notice, because you don’t fucking want me. I got the message, Jordan. I got it!” 
“What message?!” Jordan grabs you by the shoulders, voice fraying at the edges, and looks like she wants to shake you.
“You don’t touch me!” Your voice raises to the edge of a yell, and the sound of it echoes in the small room. 
“What are you fucking talking about-”
“-don’t be cute, Jordan. You don’t touch me when you’re a girl! I thought… I thought it was maybe just that you didn’t touch girls when you’re a girl but it isn’t. Apparently you have plenty of fucking girls that you touch and fuck, when you’re a girl. It’s just me, that you don’t! What’s so fucking bad about me? Huh? What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you want me?” 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. 
Jordan is staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. Mouth agape. You wish you were dead, a little.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jordie.” Your voice goes small, and you sniffle. “I really tried to stop. But I can’t, I love you. I’ve probably loved you from that very first day. Because you’re wonderful, you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met and I don’t know how anyone…” You trail off, fanning at your eyes to try and pull yourself together. “...I don’t know how everyone else knows you without being in love with you. I wish I wasn’t in love with you, please don’t be mad, please don’t fucking-” You sob, again. 
You find yourself pulled into Jordan’s lap this time. It’s a foreign feeling, to be touching so much of Jordan when she’s 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 that’s familiar. The way she soothes you. Your hands wrinkle the fabric of her jacket, clinging to her tightly. 
“I’m sorry. I can get over it, I promise. I just needed to tell you. I’ve never kept anything from you before. It was killing me, but I can get over it, Jordie, I promise-” 
“Hey, hey, hey, no-” Jordan’s turning you to look at her suddenly. “Don’t fucking… I’m not… I’m not mad at you or fucking… gonna leave you, Y/N. What the fuck? I love you.”
You could start crying from the relief of hearing those words come from her lips again. You thought she wouldn’t 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. 
“I could see the words not fucking register in your brain the way I meant them. I am in love with you. Romantically.” Jordan barely pulls away, you feel her lips brush against yours, every other word. 
“What?” 
Jordan laughs, “Good, now you’re just as confused as I fucking was. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want you? I’ve always wanted you. You’re…you.” 
“I’m me?” You echo. 
“I didn’t…. I didn’t 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 doesn’t fucking matter. Or was a consolation prize, if I couldn’t get you to date me. It isn’t a consolation prize. It’s the most important thing to me in the fucking world.” Jordan laughs, and the sound is suspiciously choked up. 
“Oh.” You say, and are crying. Again. Jordan laughs and wipes the tears away with her thumb. 
“But what about when we started having sex? You still… never touched me when you’re like this.” 
“You’ve never said anything about liking girls.” Jordan says quietly.
“You’re not just a girl. You’re the girl. And guy. ” You say, holding her hand against your face and kissing her palm fiercely. She laughs again, and puts her forehead against yours. 
“So what? I’m the one girl you’re into?” Jordan raises a brow and doesn’t look very happy saying the words, oddly enough. 
You tilt your head trying to puzzle out why, slowly, you arrive at a conclusion. “I literally talk about girls all the time.” 
“When?!” 
“I’m constantly pointing out pretty ones!” You snap. 
“I thought you were just being sweet!” Jordan snaps back. 
You close your eyes and breathe in the smell of her cologne. 
“You make me so angry I don’t know how to think.” You say, and kiss her bottom lip softly. “You’re not an… experiment, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re the…” You trail off, realizing this is not one of your romantic daydreams where you’ve thought of the words you’d tell Jordan over and over again. 
In real life you can’t tell people that they’re the love of your life if you aren’t their girlfriend. Unless you want to look crazy.
Jordan, who is your best friend, before she’s anything else, melts. Because she knows you well enough to know what you aren’t saying.
“Yeah.” Jordan nods, sniffling once and trying to look very tough even though her lip is quivering a little. “I… I love you too. Or whatever.” 
“If it makes you feel better I’ve slept with other women before, to make sure I wasn’t just in love with you.” 
“Weird fucking thing to tell me after I say I love you, but go off.” She glares at you. 
“I think you could do with feeling a little jealous. Why am I hearing stories about how good you are at fucking other women while I’m trying to piss at Vought Burger in peace?” 
“What?” Jordan’s brow furrows. 
“Three weeks ago I heard-”
“-I fucking knew you’ve been mad at me!” Jordan grabs your waist, pulling you closer.
“You would have been pissed too, if you heard the shit I was hearing!” 
“If I hear anyone talking about fucking you ever again I’m going to go to prison.”
“Hot.” 
“Shut up and be my girlfriend.”
“Shut up and be my everything.” 
“You’re gross.” But she kisses you, and it’s gentle, and no one else is there to see it. 
And it’s perfect.
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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
127 notes · View notes
frostyhelltime · 1 day
Note
Hi again! I would love if you could write possesive or jealous Rosie. Whichever you prefer and feel works best. Thank you in advance!
A/N: I love our prim and proper Overlord of Cannibal Town! Hope you enjoy! ❤️
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Jealous/Possessive Rosie with GN!Reader
Rosie in general is very good at maintaining her composure. After all she barely even flinched when the angel's head was taken out and thrown on the table during the Overlords meeting.
It takes a lot to get her to break that composure. Normally, anyway.
But it is possible, and it's certainly much easier when it comes to you.
There are the small times it slips through, such as when someone happened to be hitting on you while waiting for her.
She'll cheerfully call your name, even using pet names such as dear or darling while she wraps her arm around yours, very clearly trying to send a message.
To anyone else if would just seem like a show of affection. But you knew Rosie enough to know this was her way of marking her territory in a way the doesn't appear to break her composure to the general public.
But you keep that secret of hers.
One of many reasons she loves you.
Now if someone has the audacity to hit on you even after you said no, or worse, in her territory....that composure breaks just a little more obviously to the naked eye.
"Oh darlin' you're gonna have to try this newest batch of lady fingers! I think I really outdid myself this time!" Rosie's voice is all cheer and smiles as she brings out the newest thing she's made.
You of course, trust her cooking implicitly and graciously take one before taking a bite.
"Woah! It's good. Has a kick to it, but good." You nod, looking it over as if trying to figure out what the flavor was.
"Oh excellent! I wanted to surprise Al since he's finally back in town so I've been messing around with some Cajun flavors! I think I really got it on this one!" She's got such a chipper edge to her voice because she's happy she succeeded, and you can't help but smile. Rosie was always so sweet, sometimes she felt like a beacon of light in hell just for you, and from the way her citizens talked about her, you would say they agree too.
"Oh he's gonna love it, I'm sure." You smile, leaning over to kiss her cheek, which just further keeps her energy up.
"I'm gonna go ahead and bring them out so I can put them on display and start selling 'em." Rosie smiles, giddy as she leans over and presses her lips to yours in a chaste and sweet kiss.
When she comes back though you seem visibly distressed, another person's hands even on you. She quickly puts down what item was in her hand and makes a beeline to the two of you. She is still smiling but there's a heat to her eyes that is dangerous, and a slight venom in her words.
"May I ask what you're doing?" She cocks her head to the side politely, giving them a chance to apologize and learn some manners.
"Just trying to convince a sweet thing to take a chance on me."
Ah. Well. She tried.
"I think you should leave." Rosie says coldly, although she is still smiling politely.
"What? No. I'm sure I can convince them."
You are clearly not anywhere close to considering going anywhere with this person. At the person's statement Rosie just laughs, placing a hand over her chest as if she had just heard the funniest joke.
"I was not asking, dear."
The man stills a moment from how ice cold her voice is now, and he looks at her as if trying to size her up. But before he can decide what to do she's speaking again.
"If you would like to continue to overstay your welcome, I should have you know that as their Overlord, I take care of all of my souls here in Cannibal Town very diligently...and I've never been one to let them...go hungry." Her smile is still there, polite, as if she were simply asking him if he needed help with anything today. Her threat is indirect but the message is received loud and clear and they let you go, quickly making their way out.
Once they're gone Rosie relaxes, shoulders no longer tense. She turns to you, peppering your face with kisses a moment, to which you just laugh in delighted joy.
"I'm sorry I didn't realize earlier they were harassing you."
But you quickly comfort her and tell her she came just in time. She looks worried for a split second, as if trying to figure out if you're actually okay, when you speak up.
"Why don't we go visit the hotel? Deliver these special lady fingers to Alastor personally?" You suggest, knowing Alastor's company was always a good mood boost for Rosie, and her helpful nature meant she would enjoy giving a gift to someone she cares about. So she smiles and nods, worry leaving her face as she relaxes a little more.
"Yes, I think you're right. That sounds just lovely." She agrees, holding her arm out for you to hold onto so you can both start the walk there.
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leonenjoyer69 · 19 hours
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Invades your inbox
Hihihihi!!! I wanna ask, what are some songs that remind you of J+H :33??? ((/nf))
HELLO!! :33 THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK! THERE ARE SO MANY KVKSKVKSLC
OKAY, SO! First of all, *casually drops my J&H inspired playlist* all the songs I mention are on here, (WHICH ARE ALL SONGS THAT REMIND ME OF JEKYLL AND HYDE (all songs I've been recently obsessed with, someday ill go back in my liked songs lmao) AND SOME REASONS FOR SONGS ARE SUPER SPECIFIC, PLZ DON'T BULLY ME PEOPLE 🙏) so if you mayhaps wanna listen to any of the mentioned songs, they're there :3
BUT, ONTO THE SONGS AND REASONS!
Of course there's all the Will Wood songs from this list I did forever ago, but there are some other Will Wood songs I didn't put on there, like -Ish (which reminds me of Jekyll) and Cicada Days (which is literally University Lanyon and Jekyll)
Onto the various artists!
Pray To God For Your Mother by Dance Gavin Dance- BIG Jekyll song to me. "Dependent on the medicine to keep my colors vivid", " part of me wants to believe that I will not come apart at the seams, that I will learn from the cut when I bleed", "blame it all on the lamest dude, blame it all on the payments due", " didn't think id have to answer for the lies I told myself, at least not so soon" I MEAN CMON
Lights Out by Mindless Self Indulgence- for Hyde, the little adrenaline junkie.
Mr. Doctor Man by Palaye Royale- Jekyll energy, ofc. "Mr doctor man questions his hands, lost his mind, clinically fine, but he found a way to cope, needle in his throat"
Necromancin Dancin by Bear Ghost- Hyde, but instead of it being, ya know, the dead, it's him unleashing the nightmares on Jekyll. "Now we've found it, I'm astounded, every town will be surrounded by a throng of marchin' death, delicious the riches that glisten ahead!" Plus all the dancing references work bc he unleashed them at that party :3
Ghost Town -Revisited- by Trickle- Jekyll, once more. "So sick of this city's disguise, it glowing on the surface but it's drowning in lies", "Is there a reason that I'm wanting to hide when I look into the mirror just to see empty eyes?", "ghost that tried living a tired life, I'm haunted by the memories I buried inside"
Evelyn Evelyn by Evelyn Evelyn- Jekyll and Hyde, another one where basically all the lyrics are spot on lmao, but I will say I see the feminine voice as Jekyll and the Masculine one as Hyde :3
Turn The Lights Off by Tally Hall- Jekyll and Hyde
There's also a lot of Chonny Jash ones! Obviously The Ballad of Dr Jekyll and The Mr Hyde Jive, but also:
A Devil's Tricks- this one is literally just Jekyll and Hyde, idek what else to say lmao. Like, this dude sitting in lowkey self loathing while his mind tells him bad things? Not to mention the accuracy of the lyrics in general. Id list them, but then id just be pasting the whole song 💀
End the Dance- Lanyon and Rachel being the ones caring, and then switches to Jekyll. Once again don't really know what lyrics to throw in lmao
Banana Man- Jekyll and Hyde, with the whole banana thing being Jekyll becoming Hyde. "Forget all your morals and go with the flow, forget about the bad the good is all you know, and forget about the voice that's lying deep inside, the one that's screaming and screeching proclaiming wrong from right" "tomorrow morning on the plane, no banana makes you go insane. Floating back to busy town, no banana makes you want to frown"
Don't Take It Personally- EOUGHKEKOGKD another angsty Jekyll and Lanyon song.. "You can surrender your heart, but it won't be enough, don't take it personally I'm afraid of love" "if the drugs aren't in my system, then what the hell has blurred my vision?" "My wrist and my heart where you kissed pulled apart" "so just keep playing your part, and ill keep calling your bluff, don't take it personally when push comes to shove"
Push- Jekyll, ofc pushing all his friends away. "I see you trying to slowly turn your back on them, the shadow of who you were when back when you felt condemned"
I also have a bunch of other CCCC songs but idk how to explain why my mind thinks they fit, so I'm just gonna list them and idk, some might get brief explanations
Ruler of Everything- Jekyll trying to stop Hyde from going out, then Hyde literally ruining his life.
Dream (Outro to Calamity)- kinda specific to my little "Whole Jekyll" AU (as most of these are to some slight degree)
The Mind Electric- Hyde
Be Born- also Hyde
Light- Jekyll and Hyde
Good Day- Jekyll
Just Apathy- Jekyll, with Hyde as mind
Two Wuv- Jekyll
Greener- once again, Jekyll
Mucka Blucka- Jekyll and Hyde, (and my "Whole" Jekyll)
We're gonna Win- Jekyll and Hyde (except eventually getting along)
There's some on my playlist ik I didn't mention, but I think this should be good for now, LMAO, AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK GJSKKVKD ILY GUYS 🗣️🗣️🗣️
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rederiswrites · 18 hours
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Worked in the front garden this evening. Reginald came and visited me. Got a total of eighteen plants in the ground in the front, and did some potting up of succulents in the back.
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Everything in this corner is just lovely. My columbine is even more beautiful this year than last, and the yarrow and bee balm have spread and grown so much in this, their second year. I'm so excited to see them bloom. I think the natural purple bee balm is further down and we have the red in this photo.
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My calendula is entirely self seeded now, but this one plant must have found a sheltered spot, because it's far outstripped the rest and bloomed such a vivid orange that it kinda screws with my camera. That, and one escape dandelion.
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In the back left are the many seedlings of funky-colored echinacea. The plants were pretty puny last year, but this year they're coming up thick! There was a red variety and... Something else? And an absolutely wild one called "green twister" that had pink and green flowers. I grew that one from seed last year, and an very eager to see if it's still there, because it didn't bloom last year. I do wish my actual echinacea purpurea had spread so much, but I only see a couple new plants in that area.
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This was a surprise find when I was weeding. There are two next to each other and none anywhere else, so it's a sure thing that I planted them. I *think* it's St John's Wort. Don't actually remember planting that so uh... Sweet.
I won't make you stare at a few leaves trying to figure out what I'm trying to show you, but I will say that within the last week I've seen new growth of a bunch of unusual natives I'd pretty much written off as lost money. I ordered them in late fall last year, and then because of The Sick never getting better until this year, I only got any of them in the ground by--i genuinely think it was December. They died back to the ground by mid-January, and I'd put them down as (quite a bit of) wasted money. But now I find myself pretty unmistakeably in possession of four Cardinal flower plants, six Rattlesnake Masters (best plant name ever?), two wood betonies, and at least four things that are definitely deliberate but which I cannot yet identify. Penstemon? I don't know, but I'm thrilled. I thought it was all lost, but in fact it's almost all growing! Unearned blessings for sure.
I lied, I will make you stare at leaves.
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Seedling bonanza! Poppy, calendula, wild violet, and in the bottom right a massive concentration of something that's far too small to id but given the placement might be a return of the toothache plant. I am intimidated by the future task of thinning. But what bounty!
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More seedling mania. Here, calendula, marigold, and a few chamomile. I'd expect there to be a LOT of reseeded coreopsis here too, but if so I can't id it yet.
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My succulent garden continues to be one of my great joys. And just look at all that new growth on my prickly pear! It would be amazing to get flowers and fruits this year. Just think, this was two pads in a pot last spring! By next year I'll have to start harvesting just to keep it back.
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Tree pretty.
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Hi, sorry to ask but have you written any fanfics where Jerry is autistic? I've read your autistic!morty fic and thought that was excellent. I'm trying to find Jerry-centric fanfics where he isn't mischaracterized/demonized. (Way too many people write Jerry as transphobic which -_-ll no he isn't)
Hi, no need to apologise! I haven't written any autistic Jerry fics and I'm not sure if I know of any (if anyone else does, please leave recs on this post!). I do 100% view him as autistic though. Thank you!
Yeah honestly Jerry being portrayed as transphobic is something that bothers me as a trans guy? I headcanon him as supportive but clueless/cringe at times (he a little confused but he got the spirit).
I do have a trans Morty WIP with a scene between Morty and Jerry, although Morty is still very early on in figuring out that he might be a guy, and Jerry kind of knows something is up but assumes Morty is a lesbian rather than a trans guy and so kind of fumbles but ultimately is trying to be supportive/nice. Morty does worry about Jerry not loving him anymore if he's trans, although this is Morty's POV rather than being objective/a thing that actually happens.
I'll leave the scene below the cut in case anyone's interested. Warnings for mention of periods (and them being referred to in a gendered way), fear of transphobia from parents, accidental misgendering (and misgendering/deadnaming of Morty in the text since this is only the very start of Morty's gender questioning).
“Morti? Rick said you’re sick. Are you OK?” Jerry opens the door. Morti quickly shoves her phone under her pillow. Thankfully, her dad is as oblivious as ever as he walks over and rests a hand against her forehead.
“You don’t feel warm. Is it, uh, you know,” Jerry points down towards his own abdomen, “woman troubles?” he asks in an exaggerated stage whisper. Morti wants to die all over again. She presses her face into her pillow.
“Hey, sweetheart, i-it’s OK.” Morti feels Jerry rest a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Do you need anything?”
Morti takes a few deep breaths to calm herself and then sits up.
“N-no, Dad, I’m OK.”
“OK, honey.” Jerry wraps his arms around her and Morti can’t help but wonder if he would still hug her like this if he knew what she’d spent the past couple of hours reading about. She hugs him back tightly, suddenly unable to stop thinking that she might have to make the most of the affection while it lasts.
When Jerry pulls back, his face clouds with concern and Morti realises she’s once again been crying. She’s getting really sick of that.
“Morti, honey, what’s wrong?”
Morti feels the question writhing around in her gut until it chokes its way out of her mouth. “Dad… you’d love me no matter what, right?”
“Of course, sweetie. No matter what, you’ll always be my daughter.”
The words are meant to be a comfort, but all Morti can think about is the possibility that she’s not his daughter.
“Morti? Are you gay? It’s OK if you’re gay, you know.” As always, Jerry is well-intentioned but clueless. Truthfully, Morti’s not really put much thought into her own sexual orientation, and it’s not her main concern right now. She shakes her head, and Jerry looks doubtful but leaves it. 
After a few minutes, Morti works up the courage to speak again. “Dad? Could-could you… tell me a story? Like when I was little?” she cringes as she says the words, knowing she’s far too old to be asking for something like that. To her relief, Jerry smiles.
“Sure thing, sweetie.” 
He launches into an improvised story, very similar to the ones she remembers him coming up with when she was younger. She has a memory of Summer complaining Jerry’s stories were boring, always demanding more action. However, once Summer had aged out of wanting a bedtime story and left Morti as the sole listener, Jerry had settled comfortably back into his original stories, which Morti found calming and reassuring. 
Her dad’s voice relaxes her and she rests her head against the pillow, feeling her eyelids begin to droop. Jerry’s hand rests on her hair and strokes it gently, just as he used to all those years ago. It’s enough to block out the negative thoughts for the time being, and Morti is so exhausted from the recent events that she soon drifts peacefully into sleep.
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dent-de-leon · 20 hours
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TALESIN'S INITIAL PITCH FOR LEO AMICUS!!
Taliesin: "I am playing with the notion of a character named Leonard--uh, Leo--Amicus. Middle name, last name--redacted. A socialite...a socialite in exile. Just these days, fixer, friend to whoever needs a friend. Enemy to whoever needs an enemy. How I ended up with Candela is, I come from a very rich family. We were living in the Eaves. I just had very little I needed to do with my life--other than spend money. Very little responsibility. And one of the wonderful things we used to get up to, was kind of a unsavory thrills and chills of the wealthy and the well-to-do and the interesting. Where we would throw parties--and interesting themes, just...anywhere from crazy swinging on the chandeliers, to whatever the version of unbelievable wealth's costume parties, et cetera. Any theme, any weirdness--"
"Just, disturbing decadence. The decadence of boredom. One of the evenings that I was supposed to have this--you know, four times a year club--I was supposed to be putting it together. I thought it would be fun to have a kind of faux seance, just sort of bring the vibe of the occult and the beyond to the party. Just have kind of that...kind of a fun, dark spiritualist vibe. The war was over--the vibe was everywhere. Didn't know that the object and the people involved were...uh...real! And things went. Very very wrong. And people died. It was...very bad."
"The very rich family that I had covered it the fuck up. And paid off every bribe. Made everything go away. In return, I was told to leave--to lose my last name, never speak of the family again, and just live off the--very reasonable to most people--amount of money I was given to just live my life away. And never make noise again...Paid off and put into exile--which I have done. Especially since, almost every person who died at that party, was the direct relation of a very powerful, influential person--which Candela has been so kind to keep under the table for me."
"In return, I have given them access to the lovely collection of things--many of which I did not know were that interesting--that I had collected over the years. They get to pick through my apartment whenever they choose. And I in turn, I still know people, I still talk to people. Especially unscrupulous people. And I know things about people that shouldn't be...made public--so just, I've got a little bit of everything, and I am very bored."
"I have to kind of, I have to keep myself quiet. But I'm a little older, a little wiser, and good at, you know, paying attention now...[I keep going back to Candela out of] a mix of boredom--which is a very big one. They put in the work to keep me off the radar now that my family is fucking done. So. If any of the rich and important families found out that I was the one who caused their child, or grandchild, or otherwise--to be psychically incinerated into a lunatic who is now locked in an asylum with half a face, or whatever happened to them--I would be dead. So they keep me safe, and in return I do work for them, and I'm happy to do it. And I'm malleable for, as always--whatever anybody needs."
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kakusu-shipping · 1 year
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Another big Mario Self-Insert sketch page I’ve just been doodling on for the past few days. I’m obsessed.
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giulolosblackmail · 9 months
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Barbalius: did you fuck my dad
Gaelan: Really, for all that you present yourself as above petty insults and crass jibes, hardly behavior befitting a Red Top Knight after all, it is you who always-
Barbalius: DID YOU FUCK MY DAD
Gaelan: :3c
Barbalius: I'LL KILL YOU
#helix waltz#hw barbalius#hw gaelan bavlenka#the whole mess reminded me of that one avengers fic i read way back when where tony had a meltdown because he put two and two together#and realized his dad and steve probably boinked at some point#gaelan leading barbie around by the nose was so damn entertaining#i'm so upset they made gaelan 'secretly good the whole time actually' cuz now they won't make him such a bitch#and try to retcon his whole personality#and they're gonna be way more aggressive with it than they were with bg#god i've got a plotbunny about chopping off the secretly good crap and making a fic where nyx out maneuvers gaelan#to take control of the bavlenka house#and the scattered bavlenkas come together in a show of united force because everybody loves nyx and really not many of them care for gaelan#who ditched his responsibilities to focus on his beef with some foreign knight#come on man nyx was picking up all the slack#and gaelan#all but exiled from finsel in his fall runs into barbie in the church when he's praying#in front of the shrine to the newly canonized saint of hard decisions his old friend and barbie's father#obvi they don't hit it off or anything#but barbalius feels so bad about the whole thing and how bad it turned out for gaelan when he was actually fulfilling a dead man's wish#so he lets gaelan crash on his couch#they both hate each other more the longer they spend together#but barbie keeps letting him stay because gaelan speedran barbie's fall from grace and the parallels make him bend#but unlike barbie gaelan has no intention of getting better#he's not here because he went against anybody to do the right thing#he's here because he picked the wrong opponent to underestimate#he got backstabbed in the house of backstabbers really he should have seen that coming#so barbalius just has this asshole psudeo uncle figure living in his house and actively making his life worse while living off his money#and refusing to 'find his place in the world' or whatever idealistic bullshit barbie keeps spouting#he's going to milk this for as long as he can or until something better comes along#i just think they could make each other worse <3
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mieczyhale · 9 months
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becoming a fan of something or someone means getting weird secondhand embarrassment that didn't occur before. and anxiety! !SO MUCH!! both SO EASILY. just because i... now care about the thing or the people involved?? really??
because i really love a thing i can't freely enjoy it without some weird vague negativity related to some unknown vague people?? sure. okay. checks out.
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allsassnoclass · 2 years
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....
#going to do another fandom-related vent once again i don't want anyone to take it personally#this is just me thinking out loud this isn't a call-out this isn't me condemning anyone for how they behave online or interact with fandom#content. how many of these tags do i have to put so people can scroll past without expanding the meat of the post#is this good???? okay i think this is good now#i think. it would do well for all of us to remember that men can and should be platonically physically affectionate with each other#throughout this tour i have seen a lot of people describe stuff the boys have been doing as ''really gay'' and it's been rubbing me the#wrong way because the majority of these things are just. normal stuff i would do with my friends#and i know that it's not in bad taste. i know the people saying these things (that i've seen and who i follow) aren't actually speculating#on sexuality or labeling the lads without consent#but as someone who really values platonic love it's been really bothering me the more and more i see it#boys can cuddle with their friends. they can give each other compliments. these things are not inherently romantic or inherently gay#i also get excited when they show affection to each other! but some of the freak outs over comparatively small things are just. idk#idk man i just personally don't like calling certain actions gay when they're actually just normal friend things.#these guys care very deeply about each other i don't think it's amazing or unheard of for them to be touchy and verbally affectionate#they SHOULD be hugging each other and spinning each other around!#they SHOULD be calling each other attractive and hyping each other up!#they SHOULD be physically comfortable with each other in photos#men should be affectionate with guys they've been best friends with for a decade! especially coming out of their longest time spent apart#this isn't a piece of media we're analyzing these are just guys being dudes#and i don't think hugs and compliments and affection should be limited to romantic relationships#yeah. idk. it's just something i've noticed throughout this entire tour cycle that has been progressively bothering me more#i don't think we should erase the platonic love they have for each other by calling every little piece of affection they show ''gay''#that's just my thoughts and opinions
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asjjohnson · 2 years
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People are kinda like ice cream varieties.
There's different personalities, like how there's different flavors. There's vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, pistachio, blueberry, cherry vanilla, banana pudding, blackberry cobbler, cherry cordial, peanut butter, coffee, mocha, brownie, chocolate chip cookie dough, cookies and cream, vanilla bean, French vanilla, mint chocolate chip, chocolate swirl, strawberry swirl, and many more.
Then there's people who aren't 'typical'. Like how there's sugar free, lactose free, diet, light, organic, natural, and other such things. They're still the same flavors (although it might be harder to find what you're looking for, and some things are more expensive).
And if the carton you've bought isn't labeled as such, would you really notice that it's not 'typical'? It might taste slightly odd to you, but it might just be the way that particular flavor from that particular company is supposed to taste - how would you know? Unless you're actually familiar with the taste and/or effects of a particular added or removed ingredient (like Splenda, lactose, or sugar), you're not going to be able to tell whether that carton is different or if it's just normal variation.
So why are people so judgmental nowadays? It's like they're saying, "This peanut butter ice cream doesn't taste like chocolate. It must be missing some kind of health label!" But maybe they just need to realize it doesn't taste like chocolate because it's not chocolate flavored.
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porcupine-girl · 5 months
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An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.
Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.
So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?
Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.
If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.
ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.
The second reason you shouldn't do it?
IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.
I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.
Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.
Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.
Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.
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inkskinned · 9 months
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no, actually, where is the whimsy?
my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?
we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.
earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.
i stared at my ex. he stared at me.
his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!
it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.
and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.
my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.
which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.
but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.
the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.
so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.
and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.
where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.
it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.
this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.
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simplyreveries · 3 months
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I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!
what about a reader who’s unknowingly flirting with the twst wonderland cast (specifically savanclaw, octanaville and diasomnia) because of culture differences and species differences?
e.g petting their ears, giving them gifts, smiling with teeth (bc for moray eels that’s how they mate 👀)
OR fem reader who has her period and some of the twst students can smell it I LITERALLY HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT THIS 😭😭😭😭
OMLL I APPRECIATE ITTT!!! sorry for the wait!!! i chose some from each dorm bc of my character limit btw!!
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azul ashengrotto
despite how much azul continues to do his best to learn about life on land… relationships are certainly difficult for him to understand sometimes considering how long he has spent his life in the sea and though there are many similarities between merpeople… there are still some differences. once azul is rather close to you he does become unintentionally— clingy with you. (when you two officially get together that's another story) but he has a habit of wanting to lean close to you or have a hand on you in some way, like on the small of your back when showing you something in the mostro lounge.
so needless to say, he is in love with any sort of touch from you he takes that as some sort of hope and sign that you reciprocate how he feels haha. jade and floyd tease him ALL the time about it especially when he was struggling to keep his cool-headed composure after you once gave him a hug after he did something to help you once.
like I've said azul really doesn't think about it or even try to be this way around you he just does aljdfajdkhf. he’ll feel like a smitten fool as he sits in the vip lounge as he's doing papers and just think about how you playfully linked your arm around his to bring him somewhere. small things like that are actually quite big to him when it comes down to the differences.
jade leech
he's aware you probably don't know that you're unknowingly flirting with him, but he finds it amusing and plays along with you, nevertheless. he thinks it's cute that you don't know and all the more enticing, you’ll find him chuckling, trying to hide his grin with his gloved hand “oh my, I didn't know you liked me that much fufu” he’d say. you can't help but feel confused as to what he finds so interesting… like you literally just yawned.
it'll take him a while to actually tell you what it means since he finds the obliviousness to be quite cute. you only put two and two together when he tells floyd about what you did right in front of him and the two laugh about it. now you've got floyd teasing u about it..
like azul he is a little more affectionate just in a different more. in a less obvious fashion, though there definitely have been a few occasions where he likes to bring your hand to his lips and see your reaction, he finds it so amusing. he always has his teethy grin plastered on his face.
leona kingscholar
he hates the way he can always tell when you're wearing cologne or perfume and he hates that he likes it as well, he may or may not be a bit addicted to your scent. he literally can tell if you're near just because he knows the damn fragrance you use.
if you two are particuarly close... like him falling asleep around you and such. if you happen to pet his head and his ears, he immediately shoots you this look then mumbles something before being too tired to do anything about it or give you some retort. he just lets it happen... he does enjoy it anyway. slowly he kinda doesnt realize how clingy he can get with you because of it. he becomes a little needy and wanting more attention from you. he cant help it.... i mean you basically just showed him that you're fine with it anyways.
leona seems to be someone who can get pretty possessive, unintentionally too over you. kind of territorial, like if you're someone he has eyes for then he doesn't expect others to really get in the way of that.
malleus draonica
malleus is not only a fae but a pretty sheltered one too, I’d think he’d take almost anything from you as a sign of you being completely infatuated with him as he is with you. you could offer split your ice cream or invite him out somewhere, show any sort of interest in him as he talks about gargoyles as he’s doing single club activities. the one time you asked curiously and wanted to touch his horns, he’d be searching for the loveliest jewel to bestow you for your wedding day.
speaking of jewels… he gifts to you a lot especially after you give him anything first (it could be a cool rock you found) and he’d be so smitten and glad to reciprocate that by giving you earrings, rings, necklaces etc. and when you accept them even though you're not exactly fully understanding why he takes it even more as a sign of you accepting his advances.
after taking any of your little acts of being somewhat kind to him and he’s already so deeply into you, lilia would certainly be someone who hears just all about it. i think he would only feel happy for malleus, as it appears he must’ve found the right one. he is just supportive of malleus and is simply overjoyed to know he has some little human that makes him so happy.
lilia vanrouge
he has lived long enough and in different places to understands human courting's and more so than someone like malleus. he knows how different it is, trust me he is fully aware, but he thinks it's amusing. lilia pretends to take it the wrong way and watch you get all confused, when he's just being playful.
just cant help that he finds it so adorable when you unknowingly show him affections as a fae would in his culture. even just being slightly affectionate with him is enough to have him giggling and warning you to be careful to what fae you do that to. they do tend to take very kindly towards any affections and gifts!
lilia will straight up tell you though too, you could gift him and give him something neat you found or made, and he'd look up at you with a stupid grin like "kfufu... i accept your love, dear" NO???. he still holds onto anything from you with the utmost joy.
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tojirights · 3 months
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Prompt “❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜” with alastor :3
Likke reader has been with multiple people but alastor is the first person to make her cum 0.0
prompt: Hii I really like your work! Can you do face sitting with alastor like reader mentions that she wants to sit on alastor face to angel and alastor overhears or angels says outlook to husk while his wasted thank youu
a/n: combining these two prompts!! ^ thinking maybe alastor overhears you talking with angel about your woes and offers to uhhh assist 👀
"the guys down here suck, angel." you sigh, sitting next to angel in the hotel lounge. you crack open your beer and hand him one as well. "yer tellin' me, babe." he chuckles. "whats got ya worked up this tIme?" he hums, reaching an arm around your shoulders. "thats the thing! nothing!" you groan, leaning into his body. "you know how many times i've tried hooking up with someone just for them to bust in 30 seconds and rub my inner thigh?" angel almost chokes on his drink.
"they're the worst. no one down here has been able to make me cum but myself." you mutter, taking a sip of your drink. "who do you want, hm?" angel asks. "maybe i can hook ya up with someone good." he wiggles his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you. the alcohol is making you feel a little brave, so with a sigh, you let your words free. "y'know who i think about all the time?" angel's eyes widen with interest, anticipation building.
"alastor..." you admit for the first time out loud. angel does choke on his drink this time before he laughs. "bitch! the radio demon?!" he barely contains his cackle. "stop! i mean, have you seen him? god, angel. i'd get down on my knees and bark if he told me to. i wanna sit on his face, hold onto his antlers for support. ughh, he's so hot." you whine into angel's chest, embarrasmemt finally setting in. angel tries to contain himself, but you've never said something so out of pocket but also very relatable.
unbeknownst to you, alastor stands not far behind you, his ears twitching as he listens in. a part of him does feel a tinge of guilt for listening, but you'd be quieter if you didn't want anyone to hear you. "well now, isn't that interesting?" alastor's voice makes you jump, almost tossing your beer straight onto angel. "oh fuck..." angel all but pushes you over in an attempt to get away.
"oh my god. alastor i'm so sorry, i was just-" you scramble to defend yourself, but alastor puts his staff under your chin to raise your eyes to his. "what was that you said about wanting to... sit on my face? about these worthless little demons not knowing how to treat a woman?" the sultry tone in his voice has you clenching your thighs together, which you blame on the alcohol swirling in your gut. you laugh awkwardly, trying to brush this off as alastor teasing you but there's a look in his eyes that tells you he's dead serious. "it's nothing! just venting some frustrations, that's all."
your eyes are a dead giveaway, desire flooding them as you peer up at alastor. "why don't you accompany me to my room for the evening, darling? we wouldn't want these inexperienced fools to try and make a move now, would we?" he extends his hand, and you decide to throw caution to the wind. standing, you let him pull you close. "blow my mind, radio boy." you whisper, watching alastor's eyes darken and his smirk grow. alastor uses the shadows, leading you straight to his room in a mere moment.
your heart rate sky rockets, realization hitting your gut as you start to strip. "how long has it been?" he asks, picking you up with ease and carrying you to the bed. "w-what?" you hesistate, watching as alastor ushers you to climb on top of him. "since someone else made you cum?" you swallow, straddling his chest. "i don't even remember al..." alastor's hands come around to grip your ass and pull you forward. with a gasp, you brace yourself on the headboard and then the feeling of alastor's tongue immediately has your brain turning to mush.
it's dizzying, the slide of his tongue up and down your slit was already far better than anything you've experienced in such a long time. "o-oh fuck." your body shudders, barely being able to hold still. alastor's tongue dips passed your entrance, lapping up your juices like a man starving. you already feel that familiar coil in your stomach forming, threatening to snap all over alastor's face. "that's, oh god alastor, that's so good." you moan, gripping tighter on the headboard as your hips start to stutter on their own.
then, you feel alastor's hands on your ass start to push and pull you, forcing your cunt to slide over his tongue. "y-you, i'm gonna-" you can't even think straight, pleasure blinding you to anything else happening in the entire world. alastor hums against your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and that's it, you're cumming hard enough that your vision goes dark and tears well in your eyes.
you're shaking, barely being able to breathe as alastor's tongue runs lazy circles over your still sensitive clit to ride out your orgasm. before you're fully recovered, alastor quickly flips you onto your back and his fingers find your puffy pussy. "you have no idea the honor it is to be the only one to see you like this, my dear. the only one to feel you-" he pauses, pushing two fingers inside your needy cunt so he can hear your sweet moans. "cum. and i will be the only one to continue feeling that. you will cum on my face, my fingers, my cock... anything you please."
the desire burning in your core strengthens once more. not even your own fingers have ever made you cum twice, but alastor is about to pull a second orgasm from you almost completely back to back. "make me cum again." you whine, hips arching further off the bed as his fingers pump in and out slowly. "on your cock, fuck, please fuck me alastor."
alastor chuckles, his free hand unbottoning the front of his pants just enough to free his cock. "how could i deny such a good girl? cum on my cock, my princess." in an instant, alastor's fingers are replaced by the thickness of his cock. the first thrust alone has you teetering on the edge, while his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit.
your pussy clenches around his girth, pulsing with every sweep of his finger. each thrust of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, his cock filling you like no one else could ever. "y-you, gonna cum again." you cry out, spasms wrecking your body as your second orgasm hits even more intense with the feeling of his thick cock stretching your pussy.
alastlor groans, pumping his cock deeper, deeper until he's cumming as well. "such a good girl." he grunts, pushing each thick rope of cum further inside. "you won't ever have to worry about not being taken care of, my dear." he assures, pulling out slowly even as your cunt tries to squeeze him in. "there's plenty more where that came from, rest your pretty little eyes." he coos, pulling a blanket on your tired body.
you just know this is going to be the best sleep pf your fucking life...
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a-b-riddle · 5 days
Text
Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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