The Flat-Chested Yuri Angel's Meltdown
The dorm room shared by Love's Cupid Lily-bbangjang and her childhood friend is quiet. The only sound breaking the man-made silence is the occasional rustle of Dana flipping through her book pages. A TS yuri-obsessed perv and a bookish black-haired delinquent yuri specialist—what kind of ridiculous combo is this? That's what I think to myself, but I don't say it out loud. It'd be weird to point it out now, after dealing with it pretty much every day since enrollment.
Someone might say, She got punched in the stomach this morning, and she's still clinging on like nothing happened? Talk about thick-skinned. But whatever. If a little gut punch was enough to ruin our friendship, we wouldn't even be roommates now. I've thought this before, haven't I? This setup is all profit for me—maybe too good to be true. Who else is gonna be the outlet for my homeless desires if not Dana? She lets me grope her, sexually harass her, and grind my pussy against her all I want in exchange for a bit of skinship. What yuri fanatic could hate a girl like that? No matter how many times I crunch the numbers, Dana's a steal.
So Dana's an angel. Pussy-grinding genius, level 1 angel...!
"Uhihihi..."
"Don't laugh like a creep."
"Aang, Danaaa."
"No aegyo."
"What's wrong with our princess, uhehehe~?"
"Don't cling. And who's the princess?"
Obviously you, duh. I answer simply.
"Anyone pretty is a princess, right?"
"What kinda logic is that?"
"There's even a saying: 'Pretty means princess.'"
"No such saying exists. Anyway, you're cringey—cut it out..."
She's embarrassed, obviously. Dana always grumbles like this when I shower her with compliments on her looks, pretending she hates it. I do this a lot—maybe too much—when we're snuggling. Not to flirt or whatever the trendy term is these days... flirting? Nah, that's not it. There's a real reason. Girls with high self-esteem have better odds of becoming top-tier lesbian queens. The type who whines about being worthless trash no one needs? Sure, I love that too, but they don't pull other girls. So one more time.
"What can I do when you're so pretty, Dana?"
Boost self-esteem magic, activated. Just for you. Delivery and expression are key here—no ulterior motives, pure sincerity, innocent face locked in, straight eye contact. Tilt the head 15 degrees with a cute puzzled look, batting those eyelashes. Boom. Who'd suspect this pure soul of being a malicious yuri perv blowing smoke for dirty reasons? Not Dana, at least.
"...Fine."
Her ears are red. She loves the praise. I barely hold back from teasing her more. How's she still this innocent? Ten years of this, and her reactions stay fresh every time. So cute I could die...
If there wasn't one last thing to remind myself of, I'd have let a pervy grin slip right then. My goal. I beam brightly and say,
"So let's exterminate the polar bears?"
"Huh?"
"Grind your pussy raw with other girls—uhok, ohoot, ohohohohoho..."
"..."
Call me the gaslighting master. Dana looks seriously grossed out, like she's been yanked from a sweet dream. She's pissed. Why? Obvious. A yuri beauty like you not grinding pussies is a loss for all humanity. Do you know the weight on your shoulders? Apologize to the homeless freezing this winter without heat. Unless you wanna skip that—contribute to global warming right now...!
"Wanna die?"
"Wait, Dana. Violence is bad."
"What you do is worse."
"..."
How'd she know? By crime severity, sexually harassing a flower-like girl to death beats a few punches any day. For a con artist like me who's been ripping her off forever, this is shocking. She broke my gaslighting hypnosis on her own...?! Dana, you scary girl...!
"Ah, wait, no—you're gonna hit me...?"
"..."
I try the cute act, but it flops as expected. I slump like a defeated dog, tail between legs, lifting my shirt a bit and bracing for the kick to my gut. Quietly awaiting my doom...
...But no kick comes. Was my harassment not pervy enough?
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
Dana sits on the edge of my bed, way closer. Thought she was winding up for a hit—not that. She hesitates a sec, then asks with unusual seriousness.
"Why'd you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Serina."
"Wh-what...?!"
No way. Dana just dropped another girl's name—dead serious, enunciating every syllable! Is this it? Does Serina bug her? Did the sweet girl melt Dana's heart? Oh em gee, since when? Not from the first meeting, right? That'd be too spicy. If she's that into her already, one eye-lock and it's pussy-grinding time, not just kisses. Right? Neighbors, look at these two...!
"Why'd you spit out what she gave you?"
"What? Oh. The cookies?"
"Yeah."
"...Hooeeeeek..."
For real? She's jealous over cookies from Serina? Mad I spat them out and called 'em gross when she didn't get any? Jealous psycho girl—the Dana? Nosebleed incoming. Is this hentai...?
I blink blankly, but my yuri-optimized frontal lobe spins at max speed, spitting out the perfect line.
"...C'mon, it was just cookies? Kinda heartfelt, sure, but zero flavor? Made me wanna hurl, so..."
Operation 'Trash-talk the crush to spark self-awareness'! I'll be your Cupid. When you two hook up someday, remember my sacrifice. If pretty girls get to grind pussies, I can be trash...! Yeah. Yeah. I'll help however. Serina's a loss, but Dana's my one and only bestie.
"Then why'd you eat it again?"
"Huh?"
"The stuff you spat out. You ate it later."
"Well, uh, felt like a waste after thinking it over."
"..."
"Shoulda given it to you...?"
"..."
Eating something that touched my mouth if Serina made it? How deep does this crush go? Crazy psycho lesbian much? My yuri circuits revving overtime, but Dana just sighs like the earth's collapsing.
"I know what you're thinking. It's not about that."
"No need to hide..."
"You know how people are treating you in class now?"
Not really interested~.
"They say it's gross. Some are seriously badmouthing you. Mood's sour."
"Oooong?"
"It's about you, not them. Listen seriously."
"So?"
"...Don't pick your nose. Gross."
"You brought up boring stuff first."
"Why's it boring? It's about you."
I fake nose-picking to dismiss the dull topic, but she shuts that down too. Rude. Dana stares at my nonchalant ass.
"Self-inflicted, right?"
"Kinda?"
Even I'd curse a girl who spits out my handmade cookies right in front of me and calls 'em nasty. Psycho bitch move. Looks might soften the blow, but baseline stance holds.
"Asking again. Why'd you do it?"
"Aang?"
"Why? I told you not to. You promised you wouldn't."
"D-did I...?"
"No playing dumb this time. Not letting it slide."
Uh-oh. Uh-oh oh. While I'm spacing out, things get weird. Dana's grilling face scrunches—then she starts tearing up.
Why cry? Doesn't suit you.
"Why try to be alone again? Like middle school. I hate it..."
"..."
Ugh... tricky. She stares at me, lost in old trauma, eyes chaotic. That fierce predator gaze droops lifeless, tears welling at the corners—horny no, pitiful face.
Why so serious? I scratch my cheek awkwardly, sigh, spread my arms wide.
"Dana. Hug?"
Handing out hugs like candy after bouncing one off days ago? No loyalty. But can't ignore a teary girl, right? Gah, don't just dive in! Shameless mutt. Honestly, I'm flustered. How'd it come to this? Why's she crying? Maybe I can't follow the emotional plot—too pure, or not fully girled out for empathy. Blame the TS reincarnation; teen girls' mood swings are normal, right? My fault for not getting it.
Damn, she's warm. Snuggled long, Dana mumbles through sniffles.
"...I hate you."
"Huh?"
"Hate that side of you. Acting like you deserve hate. Can't you like yourself? When you do that, what about people who like you? Why should I hurt watching?"
"Uh... sorry?"
"..."
What? Anyone'd think I'm a depressed mess. This mutt. No clue what she's on about, so I pat her back.
......
"Better now?"
"...Yeah."
Clung to me sobbing forever—calms at midnight. Head-yanking, blanket-kicking freakouts show she knows it's embarrassing. Fair. Fresh high school girl's overflowing emotions. Black history exists for a reason.
And—kraaack—can't not roast Dana, shame-flushed like she's breathing fire.
Mood's off for words, but gotta say it or I'll explode...!
"Dana, your chest is tragically flat..."
"What?"
"Chest or back? Skip the bra."
"Not that flat. Die?"
"It's fine. Feels like nothing. You wouldn't get it, but flat chests are canon in yuri."
"...Hey!"
"Nipples exist, though?"
"You're dead."
...That night, Lily-bbang gets reamed endlessly by pissed Dana-bbangjang... Waaah, hurts so bad, rolling on the floor, but scary eyes as she rubs my body, heek, roughly, hits right. Keeps demanding apologies—what for? Your fault. Who chooses flat-chested birth...? 😭😭