#01. 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 .

Hello! I've decided to post something for Pride Month, and the character I've chosen is Jordan Li (Gen V). This post explores identity, representation, and empowerment through Jordan’s lens while honoring the themes of Pride. Enjoy!

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It’s June. Rainbow flags ripple across cities, small towns, social media feeds, and storefronts. Pride Month isn’t just a celebration—it’s a reclamation. A shout of existence in a world that still, in many corners, insists on silence. And for Jordan Li, that shout has always been more than just a volume knob. It’s a transformation.

At Godolkin University, where power, perception, and politics twist like DNA strands in a lab, Jordan has always stood out—not just because of their unique ability to shift between male and female forms, but because they refused to be reduced to one.

Jordan Li isn’t a metaphor. They are the lived embodiment of fluidity, queerness, and duality. And during Pride Month, their story resonates louder than ever.

Most Supes at Godolkin have abilities that define them—some shrink, some explode, some manipulate minds. But Jordan? Jordan adapts. They don't just switch forms for convenience or tactics; they switch because both versions of themselves are themselves.

Their male form radiates strength, stoicism, and control—traditionally masculine traits that still dominate society’s ideals of power. Their female form brims with agility, grace, and sharpness, often underestimated by opponents until it's too late. Neither form is a mask. Neither is a lie. Jordan is both, and neither exclusively. That truth challenges norms—and terrifies those who can’t fit it neatly into binary checkboxes.

That’s what makes Jordan so important, especially during Pride Month. Their story tells the world that queerness isn’t something to decode or categorize. It’s something to honor. Their fluid identity reflects the spectrum of the LGBTQ+ experience—not just in gender, but in being.

At a place like Godolkin—where branding, rankings, and optics matter as much as raw strength—Jordan’s identity was never easy to navigate. They faced rejection and fetishization in equal measure. Their powers were often discussed with a smirk or raised eyebrow, reduced to a talking point on Vought’s PR agenda.

But Jordan never buckled. They persisted.

And in a world still fighting for representation, Jordan’s existence is radical. They’re not “ing.” They’re not trying to fit. They are. They confront viewers with a reality many still deny: gender is not a cage; it’s a spectrum, and that spectrum is sacred.

When younger, closeted viewers saw Jordan on screen—confident, complex, unapologetically fluid—it was a revelation. For many, it was the first time they saw themselves reflected not as side characters or tragic tropes, but as powerful, central figures in the narrative. That matters.

Their journey is a fight—not just against corrupt corporations or monstrous conspiracies—but against erasure. Against shame. Against the pressure to be one thing to be legible. To be loved. And that’s what Pride is, too. It’s not just rainbows and parades. It’s a legacy of resistance. Of Marsha P. Johnson throwing bricks. Of queer kids refusing to apologize. Of chosen families saving each other when the world turns cold.

Jordan, like many queer people, fights battles others don’t see. Their strength doesn’t just lie in shapeshifting or martial arts—it lies in the courage to be authentic in a system designed to flatten, to silence, to market you into palatability. They are a mirror and a challenge: What if you didn’t have to pick one version of yourself to survive?

In my opinion, to Jordan, Pride isn’t performative. It isn’t limited to a month. It’s woven into every shift, every moment of being misgendered, affirmed, questioned, or celebrated. It’s in their relationships, their heartbreaks, their scars. It’s in standing up even when it would be easier to blend in.

Pride is the ability to say, “I exist beyond your comfort.”

Pride is knowing you don’t owe anyone simplicity.

Pride is walking through a world of boxes and burning the labels.

Jordan doesn’t need a parade to prove their worth—but their presence in one would be revolutionary.

Now... for all the "Jordan's" out there.

To everyone out there who feels like too much or not enough. To the fluid, the nonbinary, the queer kids who shift between selves and fear they’ll never find peace: Jordan Li sees you. Pride is yours. Because like Jordan, you don’t have to conform to be powerful.

You don’t have to explain yourself to deserve love.

You don’t have to pick a side to belong.

You are the future—ever-shifting, ever-rising. And this Pride Month, the world better make room.

Happy Pride. :rainbow:

For every version of you that deserves to be seen.

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Lots of love,

                                                           Tilly. :purple_heart: