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#i just think they're a little fucking guy
lxnarphase · 23 hours
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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
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☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + f. toji + k. choso + t. fumihiko
☾₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, mommy kink, breeding kink, satoru and toji are just filthy, choso is so cute and needy, kento is the sweetest husband, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
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who does it to tease you ↴
✧ g. satoru ; satoru tries to wake you up, but you just don't want to. and by try, he means he blew into your ear just for you to huff and smack him away, grumbling to let you sleep or you'd bite him. ohh, you are so cute, he just really can't help himself
“look at my pretty girl, such a mess…tsk, wish she'd wake up, now i gotta fuck her soft, pretty thighs instead of that pretty lil' pussy." “aww, your pussy 's so noisy! listen t' her...she's all wet, she's cryin' f'me to fuck her, isn't she? aww, poor thing...” “ooh, are you cumming, baby? cumming in your sleep like a slutty little girl while I fuck your thighs, so precious…”
✧ g. suguru ; suguru's hands move up and down your soft curves while he grinds against your thighs, quiet, sticky noises sounding in the room. you're so adorable, he wants to shake you awake but teasing you with his thick cock nudging against your clit is so much more fun
“you’ve always been so responsive, i didn’t think my dick between your thighs would get you like this, princess.” “oh? was that my name? don’t tell me you’re having a wet dream about me. so dirty, baby, thinking of me like that while sleeping when I’m right here with you.” “don’t you wanna wake up and move my cock somewhere other than your thighs? c'mon, princess, wake up for me.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ k. choso ; not outright fucking you is painful, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He’s so fucking hard, that dream affected him more than he thought, and before he knew it, he was fucking your thighs, not caring how loud he was being.
“baby, baby, fuck, hoohmygodd, please! need y'so bad, so fuckin' soft, so soft, fuck, could d' this to you all the time, never wanna stop, p-please, god, 'm gonna cum all over you-!” “sticky fuckin' p-pussy's beggin' me t' fuck it, b-but wanna see you look at me. c'mon, c-c'monnn, please wake up, let me stick it in, o-or 'm gonna waste it a-and cum all over your cunt.” “oh, mmh, ’m cumming, ’m cumming, baby, i-i’ll clean y' up after, g'nna fuck you again 'n' again 'n' againnn, fuck, ’m cumming-!”
✧ t. fumihiko ; poor thing, fumihiko honestly tries to deal with it by himself, trying to just jerk off in the bathroom, but it doesn't work. he knew what he needed, he needed you, needed to touch and feel you around him. with shaky hands holding your thighs, he slides his aching cock between your thighs, moaning so cutely…and when you wake up and start cooing to him, he absolutely loses himself.
“i’m-i’m gonna mess you up so bad, been wantin’ to leave you a mess for so long, so fucking long, 'm g-gonna cum all over your pretty thighs. 's okay, right? right? mmh, okay, 'm gonna do it, 'm gonna cum on 'em.” “y-yeah, yeah, fuck, your thighs are so soft, feel so good around my cock, gonna cum all over them, m-ma'am.” “'s so much cum, i can’t stop cumming, m-mommy, ’m losing my mind, love your thighs, they're so soft, s' soft, thank you, thank you, thank you-!”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ f. toji ; it’s not uncommon for toji to wake up in the middle of the night, cock hard in his sweats. can you blame the guy when he's sleeping next to the sexiest woman he's ever laid his eyes on. he thanks whatever god there is for giving him a wife like you who lets him fuck your soft thighs until you wake up up so he can stuff you full of cum instead of wasting it on your stomach.
“’s time to wake up, mama, don’ ya wan' me t' fuck your needy cunt 'stead of these pretty thighs?” “aw, y'look soooo cute and dumb right now…my pretty thing. c'mon, spread those legs for me, mama, toji's gonna take care of ya.” “did y' dream 'bout me fucking your thighs? yeah? mm, you’re takin' my cock like you wanted me t' fuck you awake…hm? you want that next time? mm, i’ll keep it in mind, baby girl, now shut up and let me fuck you dumb.”
✧ n. kento ; he usually only does this when he’s very very frustrated from working, coming home to see his pretty baby in one of his button-ups sleeping, thighs out in the open. he can’t help himself, softly calling your name as he slides his hard cock slowly in and out between your thighs, giving you soft smile when you wake up.
“sorry to wake you, darling, I know it’s late, but I need you. you just...look so beautiful, i couldn't help himself.” “you were responding so cutely in your sleep…would you rather I be inside you? ask nicely, honey, and I’ll give you what you want. you know a good husband does whatever his wife asks.” “so, so pretty like this, i could fuck you for days. should i do that, my sweet girl? mm, maybe i should take tomorrow off and keep you in bed all take, make sure that my seed takes. what do you think, sweetheart, you want me to give you a baby?”
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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tossawary · 2 days
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I think one of the keys to non-canon and rarepair relationships for me in fanfiction is that you have to respect the relationships that are already there. Not like in a "you have to do the canon relationships and then break them up first" way, because you can definitely make it so that the canon relationship in question never happened OR was never romantic or sexual if you want. But in a basic characterization issue kind of way.
For example, when I wrote a Shang Qinghua / Yue Qingyuan fic, I was looking at the ways to make that work given the Qijiu and Moshang situations. And I ended up making it so that Qijiu either never had or never fully developed any romantic or sexual feelings in this AU, but they're still inseparable as friends / brothers / platonic soulmates of a kind. You CAN'T write a Yue Qingyuan who doesn't care about Shen Jiu. It's just not on the table in terms of characterization.
(I mean, you could, I suppose, but then it's a case of, "Who the fuck even is this guy anymore? You undid his whole backstory and now he's a completely different person." I do think you can write interesting AU stories focused on character development in which Yue Qingyuan learns to move on after post-canon or in which perhaps Shen Jiu's treatment of Luo Binghe becomes an actual breaking point for their relationship, but even if things somehow get REAL BAD between him and Shen Jiu, I don't really think Yue Qingyuan will ever be able to stop caring completely.)
Likewise, I made it so that Moshang never fell into the master-servant situationship, and ended up as cooperative enemies / distant allies of sorts. But Shang Qinghua still thinks Mobei-Jun is sexy. That's his ideal guy! Airplane Bro still being a little weird about his favorite character is not really negotiable to me, even if he's in love with someone else. He has eyes! He can still look at other men disrespectfully! He just doesn't act on his attraction.
Like, you can totally just sidestep any romantic / sexual feelings and make it so they never existed, in order to pursue your pairing of choice. But you cannot easily deny, in my opinion, the basic fact of a character caring on a basic level about someone important to them. I think it gives weird "you're only allowed to care about your romantic partner / no friends allowed" vibes to just completely cut off all other relationships. There's not a hard line between "love-triangle-fixing polyamory" and "completely isolated from even friendships because maintaining friendships with exes is cheating somehow monogamy" as options here.
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asterr1sk · 2 days
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⊹₊ ⋆ hong seunghan wc: 524 genre: fluff a/n: i miss seunghan. bring my boy back.
you’ve been friends with seunghan for as long as you can remember. it was the first day of college. you didn’t know where to sit. it was either beside a group of guys that gave you the ick or another friend group that you obviously know you can’t get close to no matter what you do. this one guy caught your attention. he was sitting quietly, wearing both of his wired earphones, bopping his head along with the song. you decided to sit beside him, noticing some cute shinchan items on his desk. he felt your presence, so he looked at you and nodded, holding out his hand to say hi.
months later, you became closer to him. now here you are sitting on the floor of his dorm, trying to teach him the math lesson taught yesterday. you guys always made your schedule match so no one would be alone, knowing that neither of you are good at making friend. of course, the only exception was between the two of you. 
“this is too difficult, y/n~” he whined while throwing his hands up in defeat as he slid further down to the floor, looking like he had melted.
“well, it would be easy if you actually listened to the professor. right, seunghan?” you glared at him and pointed back at the paper with examples you made for him to answer.
“come on. you have to know this lesson. our professor might suddenly make us do a quiz. you know how he is. he makes us do some worksheets after three lessons, and they're graded.” you emphasized the last statement so he can sense that it’s serious.
“i hate doing this for grades, but okay, fine, whatever.” he sat back up and stuck his tongue at you. he finally answered the examples and slid the paper across the table. you checked his answers and let out a snort. 
“you’re shit at math.” you said in a laughing manner as you continued to check his answers.
“yeah. no shit, sherlock. that’s why i asked for you to help me.” he let out a huff and crossed his arms. you stood up so you could sit beside him. 
“then fucking move so i can teach you the right answers.” you put the paper back on the table and motioned for him to come closer.
“you were already in the right process, but your stupid ass decided to go the other way.” you looked back at him, then nudged his arm for him to pay attention. you noticed how his little black spike earring suits him so much. you always see him wearing that earring. it’s easy to recognize him from afar, even just by looking at his ears. 
“hey, y/n.” he snapped you back to reality. “i think i know it now,” he grinned, looking smug. 
“are you sure? maybe, you can answer the problem our professor gave.” he searched for it in the presentation given to us and started to write down numbers. 
you sat still there as you tried not to think more about the person beside you. he’s nothing else but a friend, right? 
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lexirosewrites · 2 days
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Something something omegaverse singing competition au where Steve (omega) is a contestant on a singing competition show similar to The Voice where each singer gets chosen by an all-star judge to be on their team. He's kinda shy and doesn't have much stage presence. Enter Eddie, rockstar extraordinaire (alpha) who spins his little chair around for Steve at the sound of his voice (sun soaked gravel perhaps?) and is hit like a truck by how pretty he is. They start working together, Steve gets more confident on stage and crowd working, while also finding his own unique sound that leans a little heavier/grungier than his appearance suggests. Maybe he wears pastel colored mini skirts or short dresses while performing? Eddie is ofc barely holding back this entire time bc he's chomping at the bit to claim him before anyone else can. Billy or Timmy are good candidates for competition as live interests (not seriously to Steve, they just think they're the good shit and maybe there's an interaction where Eddie gets all protective😌) They're slowly falling more and more in love with each other as time goes on and they build trust. Steve makes it to the finale, wins, and then they fuck nasty about it afterwards bc they deserve it. A top star couple that dominates the industry producing record breaking albums together and separately, while also having a family. They tour together and everything. Kiss kiss, fall in love, the end.
I love all of it! You guys can pry famous Eddie AUs from my cold dead hands. And cute omega Steve who gains confidence and learns to be himself on stage and falls in love too? Immaculate!
OHSHC reference at the end there hehe
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avonne-writes · 1 day
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Gale’s oral fixation + John’s big thighs 😍❤️‍🔥
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Criminally hot 🔥 I had to write a drabble. This is set in my modern AU where they're postgrad students and best friends with benefits already in love with each other but scared to confess it.
Exam papers flutter on the desk of Gale's supervisor as the fragrant spring breeze swirls in through the open window. The Astrophysics department's small office smells like old bookshelves, leather and coffee, more comforting than the Business School's sterile ultramodern building. But John isn't here to examine the decor - he came to entertain Gale because he thought it was unfair that he had to be holed up inside, grading papers when the weather was so nice.
That, and because John wanted to kiss him.
It's all he can think about lately. His best friend's lips, their plump cushion under his own, the taste of them, soft skin between John's teeth. Given their amazing, perfect, completely causal agreement that they'd help each other out quick and easy if needed, he didn’t have any hangups about it. But he did think it would be weird to just ask to make out without an end goal, so he pretended to be horny as an excuse, even though he wasn't.
He just didn't count on Gale being the one who'd be too turned on to resist a quickie right where they could be caught anytime.
"Jesus Christ, Buck." John hisses in the rolling chair of Gale's supervisor, his hips twitching to thrust into Gale's hand. In the grip of Gale's pale fingers, he throbs with hot need, Gale's spit slicking his length to make the friction just right as Gale strokes him. "Warn a guy next time."
"Warn?" Gale asks, lust low in his voice. He’s kneeling between John's spread legs, halfway under the desk. With his free hand, he tugs John's trousers and boxers down to bare his thighs completely.
"We started this whole thing because you said it would be convenient. That we could have each other anytime, no strings attached." He presses his lips to John's right thigh and bites down gently, his teeth digging into John's muscle. "I want you now."
"Fuck." John breathes out, gripping the armrests. He needs to swallow the moans already pressing at his throat, the guttural, helpless noises he tends to make in Gale's bedroom, because they're one curious professor away from scandal. "Can we close the window at least?"
"Nah." Gale nuzzles his thigh again, the corner of his lips curling into a smile. "I know you'll be a good boy, John."
John throws his head back against the headrest. "I'm really not."
He feels the huff of Gale's laugh on his leg. "Yes, you are." Gale sucks on a strip of John's skin noisily until it colours pink, sensitive. His expression is pure bliss. "My good boy."
A surprised whimper escapes John's throat. "What?"
Gale freezes for a moment, as if caught, but he goes back to rubbing and kissing John's thigh a second later. "Nothing."
"I don’t know what came over you." John mumbles breathlessly, slouching in the chair to give Gale better access to his cock, to chase Gale's teasing hand. His own fingers find their way to Gale's blond hair and tug as Gale leaves a hard bite on the meat of his thigh to mirror his work on the other side.
When Gale bats his right hand away, he puts the left on Gale's head instead. Gale gives him an exasperated look, then sits back on his haunches to get away from his demanding touch. His eyes roam over John's body lazily, his fist still moving up and down.
"You didn't sit like that on purpose?"
"Hm." John hums, pushing into Gale's hand. The chair rolls back a little, so he tightens the cradle of his legs around Gale's torso to stay in place. "Like what?"
"Like you wanted your dick sucked."
John closes his eyes as a wave of heat rolls down from the top of his head to his toes. "You have an oral fixation, I swear."
"Uh-huh." Gale just hums, his entire focus on John's cock now. He strokes his left hand over the bruises he sucked into the meat of John's right thigh, then he cups John's balls.
"Ah, fuck. You don’t even deny it."
Gale looks up at him from under his lashes as he leans forward. His body warm between John's thighs, his lips glistening.
"Why deny it?" He shrugs and kisses the tip of John's cock. Closing his eyes, he runs his pink tongue up the underside of it to the head, catching the drops of moisture beading there slowly from the torturous pleasure he inflicts on John's body. When John grunts, Gale looks at him again. There’s a playful glint in his eyes. "Be a good boy now, Bucky."
John puts his right hand back on Gale's head and presses his left fist to his mouth as hot, warm suction slides down his length and pulls his pleasure right out of his soul. Shadows pass behind the opaque glass of the door opposite him, people walking down the corridor. The star charts on the walls mirror the stars he sees behind his eyes as Gale sucks him leisurely, without a care in the world. No one walks into Astrophysics at four p.m. on a Friday, right? John prays, and squeezes his eyes shut against the pleasure as he thrusts into Gale's mouth.
He's gonna cancel his plans of going out and take Gale home again tonight.
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johannestevans · 23 hours
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sorry i finished new episode and i'm obsessed as ever
kabru clasping hold of laios' hands is so insane. laios doesn't remember this little twink's name, all he remembers is that this guy ate monster food with him and showed a slight enthusiasm for him, which to laios is unthinkable
it's hilarious seeing kabru's fervent obsession with and manipulation of laios' feelings and priorities contrasted with laios' depths of pain and distress at shuro's rejection of him and how that was borne of shuro hiding his true feelings
obvs for shuro like. he's explicitly introduced with a level of politeness and also emotional repression that's linked not only to his cultural upbringing in the east but is obviously related to his class position, esp bc the dungeon was meant to serve as his coming of age
or to hone his experiences for a return to rule as lord - and with his proposal to falin like. it's so interesting to me that shuro finds so many of falin's traits so desirable when she and laios genuinely are so similar
falin IS extremely high-empathy whereas laios is very low-empathy, but they find pleasure and joy and intrigue in similar things, they have similar senses of humour, they're similarly inexpressive or overly expressive depending on the moment
at the end of the day like, if you're going to propose to that girl and ask her to come back to your home country and marry you despite the fact that she's so obviously a lesbian, at the very least you have to pretend to like her brother
but like. she's quite LIKE her brother. they have the same broad frame, if laios gained a bit of weight i bet he'd have a similarly luxurious bust, they're both a bit clueless. she's just a woman and laios is just a man
but yeah sorry to move on from shuro's deep and seemingly inherent distrust, nay disgust, of other men that is no doubt informed by the extent to which he's been raised wholly by legions of women vs his inclination to see other men as rivals or opponents
(worsened by the extent to which he sees laios as naive and is offset by the extent of laios' earnestness)
but here you see the EXACT SAME THING happening to laios again in REAL TIME. someone else needs to keep him on side and so they're being polite
kabru is going beyond politeness and is outright lying and manipulating because he's just a delicious bitch that way, but like. the exact same thing is happening to laios - he thinks he's making a new friend and he is LATCHING ONTO kabru just like he did to shuro
is he being intelligent or tactful about it? no. god no. he's infodumping eagerly about monster food, he's answering all of kabru's questions - and!!! kabru is asking him QUESTIONS! he's being so ENTHUSIASTIC!!! and so laios rushes to cook for this new friend, this stranger
and inwardly kabru is horrified because jesus fuck, is this guy SERIOUS? and yeah he's serious about everything, he's earnest and eager about absolutely everything, and kabru is fascinated with this new variety of man but also... fucking hell
i think it's vital that they're introduced to one another initially in this group setting, because i think marcille, who is much naturally more distrustful, would ask more questions of kabru - and falin is very trusting but also would. twig something off about everything
i die because like. falin left home because she couldn't handle people's issues with magic and also because like. she was constantly in the position, i would have no doubt, of trying to explain laios to their family and friends, whilst also being beset by spirits
like obviously she wanted to go to magic school, but it was more than that - she needed to go out and grow and become an adult, and not do so in her brother's shadow and laios went off on his own, haplessly, and they end up together again bc they take care of each other
falin is a weird girl, she likes to play in the dirt, she accidentally does all this genius stuff, she's a little clueless and a little out of it, but to marcille and shuro, this is desperately desirable - she's beautiful, she's a genius, she's so loving
they see those things in her because they shine out of her like sunshine - especially because she's not intimidating, you know? whereas laios, blundering, autistic, selfish, obsessive laios, who talks a mile a minute and is so tall and broad, people find him to be too much
idk i just. i think for falin a big difficulty she has is actually in setting boundaries - she's always rushing to take care of laios even though it's not her job, she holds back on saying no to shuro because she hates to say no
marcille touches falin ALL over, touches her hair, scrubs her clean, holds her TIT while channelling magic, and falin is overwhelmed by it and you can see it in her face, but saying no is so hard for her - no to spirits, to strangers, to her friends, to her brother
i say this because like. they really don't interact much at all in the course of the manga but i think that kabru and falin actually have so much in common, both of them haunted by ghosts and both of them fixated more than they mean to be on laios
falin because to some extent i think she feels guilty about abandoning him to go to school even though she NEEDED that, and kabru because he's just an obsessive little homo and he can't cope with his need for laios' massive dick
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angelsrcute · 6 hours
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LOVE ME WHILE YOUR WRISTS ARE BOUND. 𝜗𝜚
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𝜗𝜚 — who'd lay their eyes on the prettiest person, you. Shining brighter than the others, and where do shiny and valuable things belong? in a box. According to a legend, sirens sing in a sweet voice to lure sailors into the water or just create chaos and destruction of their ships.
𝜗𝜚 — Who fell in love with you at first sight, wanting to possess you. So, while you were exploring a deserted island at night, you heard a sweet lullaby, a guy sitting on a rock. You couldn't help but be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Such a captivating appearance, not like some monster– but very divine? You felt like something was messing with your brain.
𝜗𝜚 — You don't really remember why you're laying on the ground nor why you're getting fucked by someone. Shit, he's hot anyways, you wonder what happened to your ship. Legs thrown over their shoulders as they fuck you, you bet you wouldn't be able to walk straight tomorrow. Now that you think….why does the person look different as if they're not human at all. It's nothing, you think. You're worrying too much.
𝜗𝜚 — Who pepper kisses on your body, worshipping you like some treasure, fangs biting down on your skin, drawing blood. Ouch, their tongue licking up the blood, savouring your taste. Webbed hands digging into your waist.
𝜗𝜚 — Who fill you up so much that there's a visible bulge on your stomach, webbed hands pressing down, making you whimper. Your whole body feels numb. Their pretty mate, no one else's, a blush forming on their face at the thought of fucking a baby into you. You'd stay with them forever then!
𝜗𝜚 — Who's going to keep you in their little home, after all, humans are quite weak and die easily. You wouldn't be able to survive in the depths of the ocean. Well, who cares if they have to mess with your memories, making you think that you're their pretty little wife. You don't need anyone else but them right? The love of your life, perhaps you'd learn to love them without all these hallucinations. As for what happened to your ship, you're currently missing.
"Mine, my human, mine to love, I wouldn't let anyone else steal my treasure."
Whoever you think fits.
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slasherscream · 14 hours
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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
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virgil-anon · 16 hours
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I was reading this manga earlier and now I desperately need a tomarry fic where they attend Hogwarts together (time travel, some other au, it doesn't matter) and they both think the other one is psychotic. Harry's pov has Tom as seemingly regal but Harry knows he's a little FREAK. And Tom's pov shows Harry in a similar light, the quidditch captain, the golden boy, but he's also Tom Riddle's stalker, and a little freak just like Tom. Like they're both under the impression that they themselves are totally fine and sane, it's the OTHER GUY who's fucking bonkers but like. They're both so insane.
Idk if there's a fic like this already but if there is SOMEONE TELL ME RN
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lunarsturniolo · 24 hours
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The triplets do a collab with a girl and everyone on the internet is shipping her and Matt because she was lowkey flirting with him and he was being super friendly ?
Trying to get back into writing, sorry if this is shit. Please send in more short lil requests that I can do in >1000 words!! They're fun.
--
“Hey,” Matt breathed out a sigh of relief, “I’ve been calling you.” 
Y/N let out a laugh, “Yeah, I have caller ID.” 
He echos a laugh, a bit more uncomfortable than Y/N’s. “Sorry about that.” 
“No worries. I was just running some errands. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to apologize-“ 
“Apologize about what?” 
Matt lets out another sigh, “Um, the video just went out, like, an hour ago, and the comments are kind of insane.” 
Y/N feels her voice get caught in her throat, “Insane, how?” She asks. 
Matt immediately catches her anxiety, “They’re not really bad,” he says. “Well, they’re kind of bad, but not bad in the way that you think! It’s just that everyone’s kind of-“ 
“Matt,” she cuts him off. 
“Sorry,” he laughs a little, “Everyone’s just kind of shipping us, and it’s getting a little out of hand.” 
Y/N left a pregnant pause, “Oh.” 
“Yeah, I’m really sorry. They just- they can’t let any of us talk to anyone without making it a thing.” 
“You don’t need to apologize,” Y/N tells him, “You’re not responsible for those people.” 
Matt lets the statement sit, “Okay.” There’s a rustling on his end of the phone, “Well, I’m sorry again. I’ll call you later, I have to go,” and suddenly the line goes dead. 
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at the abrupt ending. “That was weird,” she said, looking up at her roommate, who had a hand on her hip and a toothbrush hanging from her mouth. 
“What the hell was that?” She asks, her toothbrush bobbing as she speaks. 
Y/N shrugged, “No clue. Matt just called me to apologize for people shipping us.” 
Bonnie cringed, “That bad?” 
Y/N shrugged, “I guess so. I mean, I was flirting, but I thought he was into it.” She looked back down at her phone with a deep breath, “Another one bites the dust,” she mumbled. 
Y/N had been on a rotation of men in her life. Coming in and out as fast as a revolving door would let them. She mainly just wanted a quick fuck, or an occasional dinner to try out the waters, but she never liked a man long enough to let them stick. Just long enough to let them gain interest and for her to lose it. 
Bonnie walks over to the bathroom, spitting into the sink, “Boo! He was cute, too!” She complains. 
Y/N shrugs, “Can’t go back now. He clearly doesn’t like me,” she lets out a small laugh. 
“Why do you say that?” Bonnie asks. 
“I mean, why would he call me to apologize if I didn’t bother him?” 
Bonnie rolls her eyes, reentering Y/N’s line of sight, “Because he’s worried it would bother you?”
“I guess, but wouldn’t he have said something, or-”
“Y/N, do you even like this guy?”
Y/N gives Bonnie a playful glare, “You know I’m not incapable of feelings, right?” 
Bonnie shoots back a sorry look, “I know. I apologize.” 
With a swift change of the subject, the two girls are talking about Y/N’s next video. Amidst their discussion, Y/N’s phone lights up with a text:
Matt Sturniolo: Sorry I got off the phone so quick. Nick wouldn’t stop calling me. I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab dinner tomorrow night?
Y/N: No worries. And pick me up at 7.
Matt Sturniolo: It’s a date.
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thedoodlerreturns · 2 days
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More Conan reread thoughts (ignore the time difference between the last one). Spoilers for practically everything lol
Honestly compared to last time, I really like the dynamic between Shinichi and Heji
In this panel specifically I really like how basically the second after Heji hears Shinichi he gets really excited. And when Shinichi tries to focus on the case and everything but Heji just tells him to come visit Osaka (which I also think is great, he just wants to hang out with his friend), Shinichi goes to hand up lol. I just really like their friendship.
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I don't exactly remember what chapters these are from and how many are inbetween, but here's my next screenshot. Can you imagine this little child just suddenly appearing behind you and with the most innocent smile asking if you want to murder someone? I too would be horrified, even if I did want to murder someone lol. He just looks so happy to say it.
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And then we have the Akai family interactions.
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I cannot emphasize enough how much I love anytime they interact. I just love them so much. Like they just. They're a family. They all care for eachother in their own ways. Even though they aren't often together. It's great.
And then we have that delivery truck case where we see Amuro just being a good guy. A scary guy. But definitely fueld by the correct intentions.
Like dude is literally running while doing complex calculations in order to track where the message had blown off too. If that's not impressive, I dunno what is.
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And then he catches the guy (by punching him in the stomach mind you) and pulls out fucking tape while telling Conan to call the police. Like. Oh my god.
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Just look at how bright and happy his face is. This man has killed people before.
I think that's all I have for now, will be reading more soon. Might or might not post my thoughts we'll see
Thanks for reading my ramblings and I hope you have a great existence!
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funnywormz · 3 days
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I think this shitshow with Toshiro stems from the trend of people INSISTING that interpersonal conflict must be a moral failing. Like I think there's something to be said about how people afford so much less patience to people who are autistic in the "wrong" ways, but also Laios and Toshiro just clash on a fundamental level that has nothing to do with that. Hell, you could read Toshiro as autistic as well. People related to Laios' side of the argument but instead of getting any nuance out of it they started projecting their experiences with ableist people onto Toshiro.
AGREE AGREE AGREE. i think that Fandom Brain gets people very used to thinking of conflicts in terms of "who is the bad guy and who is the good guy", so when they encounter a more nuanced conflict they don't really know what to do. i don't think toshiro is a bad person at all, in his conflict with laios he's just exhausted and starving and has been pushed to the limit and from his perspective, laios doesn't even seem that emotionally affected by the situation. i don't think what he said was right and it was pretty cruel, but i don't think he's a villain or deserves to be permanently hated as a character just bc he fucked up this time lol
also yeah you could definitely read him as autistic, and i think that highlights an issue in the autistic community in general bc like....... a lot of autistic people have conflicting needs which can lead to conflict between them/make them unable to stand being around each other. and it's not because either of them are neurotypical or bad people, they're just incompatible. like autistic people who loudly stim vocally and autistic people who meltdown when they have to be around loud noises, for example. it doesn't mean either of them is bad or not autistic, just that they have conflicting needs
i 100% agree with the last part too. i disliked toshiro at first myself bc i had been (and still do ngl) projecting onto laios hard and the conflict they had reminded me of times when people have been mean or angry at me irl for social blunders i've made unintentionally, or when someone i thought liked me/was my friend turned out to actually hate me. it's a common experience for autistic people and that scene resonates with that! but i think it also helps to take a step back from projecting our own traumatic experiences onto the scene and just look at it objectively. laios isn't perfect either and he's the one who actually starts the physical fight by slapping toshiro (i feel like i don't see many people mention this lol). i feel super bad for him in that scene but he's not a perfect victim and has done things wrong himself too
as an autistic person i've also been in situations where i can relate to toshiro too lol, like where someone is overly physically and emotionally familiar with me when we don't know each other well and i've wanted them to back off but haven't been sure how to say it without hurting their feelings. this kind of conflict is far from just being a "neurotypical vs neurodivergent" thing as a lot of people portray it in the fandom
idk i just wish people would think a little more deeply about the scene and put their own emotions and experiences aside to instead consider the conflict with the added context of the individual characters and their respective cultures + the situation they're in. people don't have to like toshiro but i wish they wouldn't paint him as a villain or make up awful shit about him just to justify their feelings when he isn't even that bad of a dude in canon yknow 😑. also we literally see him at rock bottom struggling and freaking out and i think that's important to remember. in a different context i doubt he would have ever said those things to laios
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tavolgisvist · 3 days
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'Early Days'
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From this RS interview
You just released a music video for your song "Early Days," where the chorus goes, "They can't take it from me if they tried/I lived through those early days." What are you singing about there?
Revisionism. It's about revisionism, really. I know my memory has got chips in it that still can go exactly back to two guys sitting in a room trying to write "I Saw Her Standing There" or "One After 909." I can see that very clearly still, and I can see every minute of John and I writing together, playing together, recording together. I still have very vivid memories of all of that. It's not like it fades. Since John died so tragically, there's been a lot of revisionism, and it's very difficult to go against it, because you can't say, "Well, no, wait a minute, man. I did that." Because then people go, "Oh, yeah, well, that's really nice. That's walking on a dead man's grave." You get a bit sensitive to that, and you just think, "You know what? Forget it. I know what I did. A lot of people know what I did. John knows what I did. Maybe I should just leave it, not worry about it." It took a little while to get to that.
I know that I have every memory still intact, and they don't, as I say in the last verse, 'cause they weren't there. I think you'll find this in most bands, but in the Beatles' case, it's got to be worse than any case. For instance, I was on holiday once, and there was this little girl on the beach, little American kid. She says, "Hi, there. I've just been doing a Beatles ppreciation class in school." I said, "Wow, that's great." I think, "I know, I'll be really cool here. I'll tell her a little inside story." So I go on about how something happened, and it was a fun story – and she looks at me, she says, "No, that's not true. We covered that in the Beatles appreciation class." I'm going, "Oh, fuck." There's no way out, man! They're teaching this stuff now. <…> To get back to my original point, that's the kind of thing that happens in films, but these books that are written about the meaning of songs, like Revolution in the Head – I read through that. It's a kind of toilet book, a good book to just dip into. And I'll come across, "McCartney wrote that in answer to Lennon's acerbic this," and I go, "Well, that's not true." But it's going down as history. That is already known as a very highly respected tome, and I say, "Yeah, well, okay." This is a fact of my life. These facts are going down as some sort of musical history about the Beatles. There are millions of them, and I know for a fact that a lot of them are incorrect.
I can see how that would be frustrating.
Ну, раньше это расстраивало. Я справился с этим. Все нормально. В "Early Days" есть что-то из этого, но главное - это песня памяти. Это я помню, как шел по улице, одетый в черное, с гитарами за спиной. Я могу представить точную улицу. Это было место под названием Менлав-авеню. [Пауза] Кто-то увидит в этом какое-то значение: Пол и Джон на Менлав-авеню. Давай, давай. Вот как обстоят дела с Битлз. Все было чертовски важно, понимаешь? И это нормально, но когда ты был частью реальности, всё было не так. Это было гораздо более нормально.
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Stuffed animals I think Dethklok would give each other
Not trying to infantilize, they all get them those fuckin man babies.
Probably cringe but I could care less honestly 😭
Not proofread suck a fart
Nathan
Pickles gets him a whale. It's a reference to the whale he'll see so maybe next time he can relate it to his stuffed animal and not worry. They also stand for strength, which adds to the overall meaning of getting over fears.
Murderface would get him a lion. He says it's a jab at how much of a perfectionist he needs to be to be proud of his work. They're also just hella fucking brutal. Lions for the win
Skwisgaar would get him some type of fish. It doesn't matter which one, just whichever he finds first. They won't be very big, just little plushies.
Toki would get him a German Shepherd. He thinks it's a cool dog and I like to think it's Nathan's favorite. He would probably get the black ones to match Nathan's hair. He likes how they're actually cute but look brutal.
Charles isn't a big giver, especially with stuffed animals. If he finds one of those brutally cute things like the baphomet plushies he'll get them. Other than that, he's just too busy to look for insanely interesting ones.
Skwisgaar
Nathan would get him that alien plush from Ikea. I don't know why that was the first thing I thought of, but it was. It's called like Aftonsparv I think. They just both find it chucklesome.
Pickles would get him a wolf. I like to think that he just obsesses over wolves sometimes and Pickles feels the need to add fuel to fire.
Murderface would get him an arctic fox. He likes to say that Skwisgaar is from the North Pole up with "Santy Claus". He also just likes them.
Toki would get him a polar bear. I just think that everyone collectively thinks that Skwisgaar is an arctic man. He's pale and has ice blue eyes so it makes sense to me.
Toki
Nathan would get him a bunny because it's his spirit animal. (Ie. The episode they aired Bloodlines, I can never remember the name)
Pickles would get him little sharks. Think Blåhaj and things related. He just thinks they're cute and Toki loves them.
Murderface would get him a tiger. He says it's better because it's like a house cat but metal. Toki would argue that house cats are quite metal, but to no avail.
Skwisgaar would get him big octopuses. He would either say it was the Kraken or Cthulhu. Whichever he felt like it being.
Pickles
Nathan would get him just that. Pickles. It would be like the Cat v Pickle plushies and if it was a cat he'd just give it to Toki or something. He thinks it's the funniest shit ever
Murderface would get him an orca. They're hella brutal and he thinks it's funny that they're actually dolphins (don't fact check me i'm pretty sure that's true)
Toki is getting him dolphins. They're the shark and dolphin duo and it's so fun. It's a gag at this point, they'll buy each other the ugliest ones.
Skwisgaar would give him a frog. He just think it fits Pickles's vibe and appearance. Not to say he's an ugly frog.
Murderface
Nathan would get him a pig. At first it seems like a jab at him, but pigs are cute! They're also known to be smart and clean, at least from what a teacher told me once.
Pickles would get him those plushies of his favorite chip bags because they're just so fun. they also crinkle because why wouldn't they.
Toki would get him lions because they're also brutal cats and he thinks he should get the same thing. Also he needs some strength in his life the poor guy.
Skwisgaar would get him a manatee. It's just an ongoing joke since the events of Doublebookedklok. They giggle about it when they get too high sometimes.
Charles
He's the gifter this time
He hates when the guys get him things because he thinks they should use their money on "more useful" things.
He'll get Nathan those Baphomet plushies. They don't have to be generally big, but if he sees one he'll get it.
Pickles would get a horse or two from him. Specially the white and black ones, considering those are the most metal horses.
Murderface would get a wrench from this son of a bitch. Not a real one like a stuffed one I hope that was clear. I think they'd both giggle a little bit.
He's also a Toki cat giver. Specifically Calico cats. If he finds one that looks like Really Cool Cat then he'll get it for sentiment.
He'll get Skwisgaar an owl. He thinks it matches him and is majestic like he is, while still kind of creepy. Also spirit animal mention.
That's it I hope you fucks enjoyed <33
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sal-absinthii · 2 days
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Rewatching AtLA cuz I'm cranky
Something that really stands out this time is how alike Zuko and Sokka are. They don't interact much directly in the series, but notably, they are the first each of them encounters immediately after their worlds come into contact. Sokka is standing alone at the front of his village when Zuko's ship lands, and Zuko deflects his attack with an ease that makes us feel a bit embarrassed for Sokka, who has been preparing for this his entire life. It struck me that really, it's the same for both of them -- they have both been preparing for this for a long time, and to the exclusion of everything else; it's their entire identity and reason for existing. They are set up as parallels before they meet, too, when we see each of them preparing for battle. Watching Sokka put on his makeup and gear, I was thinking how different it would feel to have seen this as a kid or teenager, when Sokka and Zuko seem grown-up enough to be doing this, than it is to watch it as an adult nearly twice their age and be aware of the elephant in the room that these are children. I don't want to say that they're playing dress-up, because that implies that it's their choice and that there's something innocent about it, but the reality is that it isn't for either of them; they are gearing up for a role that was placed on them by their fathers, by their cultures, by the circumstances, but it is not either of their choice even if they think it is. They are children fighting an adults' war, and even worse, it's a war that goes back generations. Aang draws attention to this pointedly, when Zuko, who in typical teenage fashion seems to think of himself as an adult, expresses surprise that the Avatar is "just a child" and Aang says "well you're just a teenager," a fact that is obvious to everyone except teenagers.
Sokka has to get ready on his own, Sokka has prepared himself, while Zuko is helped to get ready and has been trained more professionally, but Zuko is also alone; his helpers are faceless servants. The one person he has who cares about him, he pushes away. Sokka has his tribe and his family around him, but when he goes to fight it's only him, he puts himself out in the front, alone, because he thinks it's what he's supposed to do. Neither seems to know how fucked up it all is that either of them should be expected to live like this.
Zuko seems much more proficient at fighting than Sokka, but we also know that it's an illusion caused by being a big fish in a little pond, because in a previous scene we saw him struggling to master even the basics of firebending. Similarly, Sokka is the oldest "man" in the village, absurdly trying to teach little boys how to be men when he isn't even one yet himself. As we see later, Sokka struggles with feelings of inadequacy and some kind of impostor syndrome as the only non-bender in the group, feeling the conflict between trying to fulfil his role as the oldest boy and therefore supposed to be the strongest and the protector and being constantly aware that his little sister and this child are destined for great things and only at the beginning of coming into their full power, whereas he is "just the guy with the boomerang" (a boomerang that does manage to get one in against Zuko even after getting his ass immediately kicked, though). Zuko is the crown prince who was never as talented as his younger sister, who is in a certain role only because of an accident of birth while being always aware that he's second-best, that he isn't the most powerful and that his position, whether it's a good or bad position, is not due to merit, and that he is a disappointment.
Both are trying to impress absent fathers. Sokka's father is gone for legitimate reasons and has not intentionally hurt his son, but he is still not there to support and protect Sokka, and the pressures that he puts (or allows to be put) on Sokka still hurt him, even if the case can be made that they're justified because they are a small tribe at war with a big empire and Sokka will inevitably need to step into the role of warrior. Not only does Sokka not have his father, he doesn't have ANY adult male role models who are actually present in his life. Zuko's father is, of course, a raging abusive cunt who should be shot like a dog, but the effect on him is the same, because Zuko does not see him that way, at least not at the beginning. Zuko only internalises that he has failed, and that this makes him a failure, and "correcting" his "mistake" is all-consuming.
They both are impulsive and their pride is easily wounded. They both want the world to see them as disciplined warriors, but they are easy to set off, and this gets in both of their ways. Sokka's main character flaw that he overcomes is his pride. I would argue that even things like his sexism are just an extension of this, because he feels that if women and girls are skilled at things he wants to be skilled at, this is especially shameful, because it attacks his image of himself as a man according to his idea of what a man should be. But while it is something he needs to overcome, it is not his fault that he is like this. He is not sexist or prideful because he's fundamentally an asshole. This was taught to him at least implicitly by the messages given to him by his culture and family and the people he looks up to, that there are expectations of what it means to be a man and he must fulfil them, and it makes sense that he feels this as being threatened when challenged or shown up by girls or people younger than him. His entire idea of what masculinity is has to be constructed from the things he's picked up as a child, because there are no men in the village to be examples for him. Zuko is also prideful, and it comes from his obsession with honour, something taught to him by his culture and family and position, and it is also not his fault that he values this, or that he acts in a way that is consistent with what his idea of honour is. He was cast out by his father, and while he does have a potential/eventual role model in Iroh, it is a while before he is able to see him as one, because the values Iroh embodies are not the values Zuko was taught to have, and so for all intents and purposes, Zuko also has no role model in how to be the kind of person he's trying to be. He only gets that once he is able to see that his entire worldview has been flawed and that the things he thought were important to find and achieve were actually not good things. When children have shitty caretakers, they don't say "my parents are wrong," because if their parents are wrong, that's dangerous, because they depend on their parents for survival. So instead they think that they are the ones who are wrong, especially when their parents are actively telling them so. It's much easier to believe that you're wrong, because then you at least have power and control and the ability to change to keep the abuse from continuing, than it is to accept that the people you depend on are unpredictable or unfair or abusive or wrong. It is not Zuko's fault that he is trying to live up to the things he was raised to believe any more than it is Sokka's for having weird ideas about masculinity and pride. Neither of them have ever seen any different and have no perspective from which to start thinking that maybe they've been taught wrong.
Now I have other thoughts that are too digressing from fandom and so I will make that a separate thing but I wanted to get this out of my head because I'd never really considered these two characters as having much to do with each other, but they really do, and there are intentional parallels, and I think that's interesting.
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foursaints · 3 days
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hi saints it’s pavlov’s dog anon back at it again (so sorry for taking so long, but if u genuinely are serious about wanting a tooth charm…….i’d be very excited to make one) BUT what do we think about odontophiliac evan? like, i can’t stop thinking about it. i want him purposefully removing his lover’s molars and storing them in tiny jars to put on display. or he stares at barty with a completely unwavering expression and says, “i’m going to touch your teeth” and he just…jabs his finger into barty’s mouth and starts stroking over his teeth, pressing the pad of his finger against sharp canines…he doesn’t know why there’s literal warmth pooling in his belly because that guy does not feel Warm Things. i want evan pinning barty down to the bed and practically unhinging his jaw just so he can admire barty’s teeth. he’s got some 1800s old school medical bag, pulling out the most obscure tools just to poke and prod the inside of barty’s mouth. like i feel as though i’m going somewhere with this, and i need your Thoughts
tooth charm anon!!! how i missed you!!! oh my god yes please 🦷🦷. we could even match!
this ask is so gorgeous. the dynamic of Barty fondly holding himself in place while his Little Blonde Freak pulls out his molars with pliers, shoves fingers in his mouth, sucks his tongue, and generally uses him as a living doll to blandly experiment on is so crucial. i see barty as having really nice teeth anyway... evan probably asks to see them up close when they're "still friends", (barty is panting at this opportunity) and he finds himself sitting there with his fingers buried in barty's mouth, trembling and wondering why he's fighting the urge to give his front teeth a lick. asks barty to bite him hard enough to leave a mark he can study afterwards.
i'm firmly of the belief that dentist!evan has a collection of antique dental headgear, rusty victorian cranks & gags to keep his mouth open (professionally!!). you'd think he'd fuck him like that, but i think evan just likes to try out all his weird tools on barty to make him drool on himself, then scold him for being messy. and barty would call it unfair, if he could speak.
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