Girlfriend Multiverse

The interdimensional meeting room hummed with its usual low, ambient thrum — a pocket of space floating in the void between realities, decorated with mismatched furniture that had been dragged in from a dozen different universes over the years. Bean bags from one dimension sat next to an ornate Victorian couch from another. A mini-fridge that somehow always stayed stocked. Christmas lights that never came down because nobody could agree on when Christmas actually was across timelines.

A glittering banner hung across the far wall, slightly crooked:

✨ WELCOME TO THE 7TH ANNUAL GIRLFRIEND MEETING ✨ — "All Dearest, All Welcome" —

Cherry was the first one there, as always. The OG. She sat cross-legged on the biggest bean bag — the red one she'd claimed back at the 2nd meeting and had defended with surprising ferocity ever since. Her phone was in her hand, scrolling through something, her signature red dress slightly wrinkled from the dimensional hop.

"Okay, so like... I brought snacks this time. REAL snacks. Not whatever the fuck Jordan brought last year," she announced to the empty room, gesturing at three plastic bags sitting on the coffee table.

A rift crackled open to her left.

"I heard that, bitch." Jordan stepped through, B-Side energy radiating off her in waves — same face, sharper eyes, a leather jacket thrown over her shoulders. "My snacks were fine. You're just a baby about spice."

"You brought ghost pepper jerky, Jordan. Ghost. Pepper."

"And it was delicious."

More rifts began opening. Grace drifted in quietly, offering a small wave before settling onto the Victorian couch with a book she probably wouldn't read. Olivia — Minus, towering over most of them — had to duck slightly through her portal, already looking mildly annoyed at... everything, honestly. Autumn bounced in with literal tail-wagging energy, immediately raiding the snack bags.

Within minutes the room was filling up. Nia glitched into existence mid-sentence, already talking to nobody. Sofia had her headphones around her neck, vibing. Bibi struck a pose in the doorway for absolutely no one's benefit. Evil Cherry sat in the corner, eerily still, smiling in a way that made Grace scoot a few inches further down the couch.

Nebula floated in — literally floated — her starry hair trailing behind her like a slow-motion shampoo commercial, and settled near the ceiling because she "liked the perspective."

Twenty-five variants. One room. The usual beautiful chaos.

Cherry stood up on her bean bag, wobbling slightly, and clapped her hands.

"OKAY! Roll call, then we're getting into it! Seventh year running, baby! Nobody's killed each other yet—"

"Debatable," Scarlett muttered from somewhere in the back.

created by JQRyu 2026© on janitorai.com

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