#my mother's daughter

[erraticrandomficwriter]

My Mother's Daughter - A Ginny and Georgia Fanfic

I got hit with the sudden inspiration to write the first "Episode" of my Ginny and Georgia fanfic featuring my OC Alexandria Miller. I don't know if I will be writing the other "Episodes" any time soon so I won't be posting this anywhere but here. Hope ya enjoy reading it!

There's a lot going on in this "Episode" so here's a Trigger Warning for assault/sexual assault and other stuff that I'm not sure needs a warning or not just be forewarned that Alex has experienced and done a lot. Nothing is explicitly described but it's in there.

Below the cut is Season 1 Episode 1 of My Mother's Daughter

My mom had my sister Ginny and me when she was just fifteen. We got the sex talk when we were seven, and while people might have thought it was bizarre or inappropriate, it actually made perfect sense. Did they miss the fact that our mom had us when she was fifteen? The timing of the talk was understandable based on that. But of course, in my mom’s unique way, it wasn’t the typical birds and the bees story. Oh no, she was far from typical, and I loved her for it. In fact, I loved her for everything she was and everything she had done—my mom was a mother bear in a Prada dress, fierce and beautiful.

Alexandria "Alex" Miller, twin sister to Virginia "Ginny" Miller, sat in her Math class, scribbling away in her notebook. Was this for an actual assignment? Oh hell no. Alex wasn’t in AP classes like her sister for a reason. Well, she wasn’t in all AP classes for a reason. Alex excelled in everything English and Literature-related, but the other subjects… not so much. It wasn’t because she wasn’t smart enough; she simply didn’t care. Like right then in class, when she was working on a journal entry instead of the word problems assigned by the teacher.

Just when Alex noticed the teacher noticing her not doing her assignment, the Guidance Counselor stepped into the classroom and said, “Alexandria, can I speak to you in the hall, please?”

Alex froze. Was this it? Was she in trouble? Was there a cop with her? No, no, no. There wasn’t a cop. It was just the sweet, well-meaning guidance counselor who was as naive as they came. Alex relaxed, got out of her seat at the back of the classroom, and followed the counselor into the hall. “What’s going on?” she asked as the counselor closed the door behind them.

The Counselor said in her sweet way, “Oh, Alexandria, I’m so sorry. Your stepfather’s been in an accident – he didn’t make it. Your mother is on your way here with your brother and your sister is waiting for them in the office. I’m so sorry.” She hugged Alexandria in a comforting manner.

Alex stood there frozen as the counselor hugged her. Did she say it was accident? It was declared an accident? And he was dead? Her stepfather was dead?...Good.

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Flash forward to the funeral. Someone who knew her stepfather Kenny gave Alex a hug and murmured their condolences. Were they truly sorry? Or was it just the obligatory thing to say at funerals? Alex didn’t care either way and didn’t bother looking at Kenny’s body in the casket, unlike Ginny and their little brother Austin.

“People are gonna talk if you don’t pay your respects, Andie,” Ginny whispered like she was disciplining her.

Alex clenched her fists slightly at the name. Ginny knew she hated being called Andie, which is precisely why she used it now to make her point. “People are going to talk either way,” Alex replied. “Or haven’t you heard everyone here in the room?” With a scoff, Alex walked away to find her mother, Georgia Miller, speaking to a group of people as the perfect grieving widow—praising Kenny, saying how he’d be missed, how he was a godsend after being a single mother for so long, and all that jazz. Georgia was amazing, and Alex was in awe of her. Suffice it to say, Alex wanted to be just like Georgia when she grew up—hell, she was already partway there. After all, she was her mother’s daughter.

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Alex felt an immense wave of relief wash over her when her mom announced they would be leaving Texas for Wellsbury, Massachusetts. The sooner they got out of Texas, the better.

As Alex loaded the last of the essentials into the trunk for their road trip to Massachusetts, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she closed the trunk and found Georgia standing there. “Jesus!” she exclaimed, having not heard her mother approach.

“Oh, come on now, we both know I’m not that saintly,” Georgia beamed, giving her daughter a playful hip bump. “How you doing, baby girl?”

“Can we start with a less loaded question this morning?” Alex joked, trying to brush off the gravity of the situation. But she could tell from Georgia’s serious expression that her mother was looking for a genuine answer.

Alex took a deep breath to gather her thoughts. “I’m not going to fall apart, Mom. I’m good. I’ll be even better once we hit the road. We don’t need to talk about it. In fact, I’d be so happy if we never talked about it again. Okay?”

Georgia saw the resilience in her daughter’s eyes but also recognized the toll recent events had taken on her. “Okay, baby girl.” She hugged Alex tightly. “This move is going to be so good for you. For all of us.”

Alex was grateful when her mother didn’t press her further and mentally pushed the troubling thoughts aside—more like buried them deep in a concrete-sealed vault, never to resurface. Alex was good at repressing her feelings, though it often meant something else would eventually bubble to the surface.

Alex hugged her mom and joked as she pulled back, “Well, if Ginny and Austin don’t get their butts in the car, this move will never happen.”

“Heard that,” Ginny sighed, approaching with Austin. She opened the convertible’s door, moved the seat so Austin could climb into the back, and motioned for Alex to do the same.

“Excuse you, what makes you think you’re riding shotgun?” Alex demanded, hands on her hips and head tilted in a perfect imitation of Georgia.

“I’m not—I’m driving, which means…” Ginny trailed off, gesturing to Georgia, who immediately chimed in, “You’ll have to pry shotgun from my cold, dead hands, missy.” Georgia looked playfully smug as she settled into the front seat.

With a dramatic eye roll, Alex climbed into the back with Austin. She didn’t mind riding in the back; she just didn’t want Ginny to snag the front passenger seat first.

Once everyone was settled, and the car began to move, Alex finally allowed herself to breathe. They were embarking on a new adventure—a new life—and she couldn’t wait to start living it.

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The road trip had been nothing but smooth sailing so far, as they journeyed all the way from Texas to Massachusetts. Georgia made sure they stopped at every cheesy roadside attraction along the way, taking pictures at each one. Despite how silly Alex thought those attractions were, she found herself laughing and enjoying every single one of them. She would never admit it, but she really enjoyed stuff like that. Georgia knew this though, which is partly why she insisted on stopping at all of them, regardless of the delays they caused.

At present, Ginny was filling up the tank at a gas station in Massachusetts, while Georgia and Alex were inside the convenience store, picking up snacks and supplies for the final leg of their journey.

Alex grabbed a couple of bags of cool ranch chips off the rack and added them to the pile in Georgia's arms.

“Aww, thanks, sweetie, go ahead and keep loading it up,” Georgia said, mockingly sweet, her arms already overloaded with way too much stuff.

Alex caught on and beamed, “Okay,” tossing a random package of trail mix on top for good measure.

Georgia gasped and laughed, trying to playfully kick Alex, who darted out of reach before grabbing drinks to go along with their multitude of junk food.

With all their purchases complete, they paid the cashier and, for the heck of it, picked up a random scratcher ticket, winning five bucks. They headed out the door, laughing together, until they saw a police officer approaching them. The laughter stopped immediately, and they both tensed up. Georgia quickly straightened her posture, looped her arm through Alex's, and smiled, “Good afternoon, Mr. Officer,” as they made their way back to the car. When Georgia glanced at Alex, she saw her daughter was smiling along with her. “Good girl,” she whispered, then put the items in the car next to Ginny.

“Was that racist?” Ginny asked as they joined her. “That was racist, right? Guess we're not leaving that bullshit behind in the south.” Ginny closed the gas cap and turned to her mother. “What was with you? ‘Hi, Mr. Officer’” she mocked her mother's tone. “You sounded like a bad porn.”

Georgia didn't let it bother her as she went around to the driver's side. “I could use a good pat down. It’s been a while.”

Ginny all but gagged. “Seriously gross. I'm scarred now.”

“Oh please,” Alex laughed, hopping into the back seat next to Austin since it was Ginny's legitimate turn at the front. “That’s one of the milder things Mom has ever said to us.”

“You've just become immune to her,” Ginny said, turning to face her sister. “That or you just think like her.”

“Nothing bad about that,” Alex grinned, meaning every word.

Ginny looked at her sister for another moment before turning back to face front. She and Alex might be twins, but they looked nothing alike. The only thing they shared was their hair and complexion. Ginny greatly resembled their dad, Zion, and looked nothing like Georgia, while Alex was the opposite—she shared many features with their mom and looked nothing like their dad. Ginny felt Alex acted like their mom a lot too, something she herself never wanted to do. Ginny was nothing like her mother and was proud of it.

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Alex leaned against the side of the convertible as Georgia drove through the quaint streets of Wellsbury. It was so... New England. When Alex had time to sit and write about it, she’d be far more eloquent and whatnot, but in that moment, that was the best description she could come up with. Hearing Ginny describe the town as looking like Paul Revere boned a pumpkin spiced latte made Alex laugh because it was so good and so true. “For the record, I’m stealing that,” she said, chuckling.

“The great Alexandria is actually going to use something that I’ve said?” Ginny teased, her eyes widening in mock surprise. “The air really must be different around here.”

Alex leaned forward in her seat, sticking her head beside Ginny’s. “But of course it is – It smells of pumpkin spiced lattes and old man sex,” she said with a teasing grin.

Ginny gagged theatrically, Georgia guffawed, and Austin giggled in the backseat. Alex leaned back, a wide grin on her face, as she took in the picturesque views of the town with its charming colonial architecture.

After a bit, Georgia spoke up with a determined tone, “Mark my words, we are going to run this town.”

Ginny sighed, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Run it, burn it to the ground, flee into the night. Same difference.”

As they drove past a ‘Re-Elect Paul Randolph for Mayor’ sign, Georgia couldn’t help but comment, “Even the politicians here look different. He looks like a young JFK.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Like the desert, right?”

Alex furrowed her brow in confusion, not understanding the reference. “What’s like the desert?”

“Mom’s dating life,” Austin chimed in. “You were asleep with your headphones on when Mom talked about it. She said it’s just going to be the four of us.”

Alex highly doubted that but chose not to voice her skepticism. “Okie dokie,” was all she said, then sat up straighter when they pulled up to a charming two-story brick house with a garage and a side patio off the second story. “Oh my deity of your choosing. This is it?”

“This is it,” Georgia beamed as they all got out of the car and stood in front of the house. “It’s a far cry from the walk-up in Houston and the apartment in New Orleans. Look at it.” She hip-bumped Ginny, who in turn bumped Alex since she was on the other side of Ginny.

Austin looked at the house in awe. “It’s just ours? Just the four of us?”

Georgia smiled warmly at her son. “Mhm.” This prompted him to declare, “I’m picking out the biggest bedroom,” before dashing into the house.

“Not if I get to it first!” Alex laughed, chasing after him. She, of course, let Austin be the first to enter and pick his room, which wasn’t the biggest like he had claimed since that would be their Mom’s. Alex chose the room next to Ginny’s from the remaining options.

Alex could already picture where everything would go—her writing desk by the window, her schoolwork desk (which would see minimal use) against another wall, her bed, dressers, and other furniture. She knew exactly how she wanted to set up her space. When the moving van pulled in, she darted downstairs to get her stuff and start arranging her room. The sooner everything was settled, the sooner she would feel settled herself.

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Later that evening, Alex groaned as her phone buzzed with an incoming call from her father. The sight of Zion’s name on the screen made her roll her eyes. Their relationship was strained, to say the least. In fact, she’d prefer it if they didn’t have any kind of relationship at all. Ignoring the call, she slipped out of her room and headed straight for Ginny’s. “Zion is probably going to call you – I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Don’t you mean Dad is going to call?” Ginny hated it when Alex refused to call their dad ‘Dad’.

“I said what I said,” Alex replied, cutting the conversation short. She returned to her room, put on "Stutter" by Marianas Trench, and began dancing around, organizing her space. The music helped her drown out the sounds of Georgia and Ginny arguing in the next room. She turned up the volume and kept on dancing.

It wasn’t long before Georgia popped in, dancing along for a moment before sitting on the bed and patting the space beside her. Alex complied and faced her mother, who took her hands in her own. “I’m fine,” Alex insisted.

“Lexi…” Georgia squeezed her daughter’s hands gently. “I know you don’t want to talk about it…”

“Then don’t,” Alex said firmly. “I’m not psycho, Mom.”

Georgia’s expression softened, though she looked a bit defensive. “Hey, I never said that you were.” She cupped Alex’s face with her hands. “You are your mother’s daughter, but that doesn’t mean…” She trailed off as Alex gave her a look she knew all too well. “Okay, okay. Have a good day at school tomorrow. You know what you’re gonna wear?”

“Oh yeah, leather corset, black mini-skirt, fishnets, and some thigh-high boots. I’m going for a whole Dominatrix vibe this year.” Alex’s tone was dead serious, even though she had no intention of wearing anything like that.

Georgia blinked a few times before replying just as seriously, “Don’t forget the whip.” She quickly pecked Alex on the cheek and darted out the door with a laugh, narrowly missing the pillow Alex threw at her.

With a groan, Alex retrieved the pillow and opened up the last box. She pulled out her fire-escape ladder and placed it in the chest under the window. If she ever needed an escape—fire or otherwise—that ladder would be her best friend. Georgia had given it to her a long time ago after...

The sudden rush of the memory took Alex's breath away. She fought hard to bury it deep, shoving it into the farthest recesses of her mind. For now, she managed to suppress it. Seeking solace, she changed into her PJs and slipped into bed. Tomorrow was a new day, another step towards finally forgetting and finding peace.

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Alex was taken aback to find that she and Ginny were not only in the same AP English class, but they also shared the same period. Back at their old school, their AP English classes were always scheduled differently, so this was an unexpected—and honestly unwelcome—surprise. The last thing Alex wanted was to be compared to Ginny again.

Nevertheless, the pair stood before their new teacher, who explained the class in a tone that Alex found distinctly condescending. It was as if he was surprised they were in an AP class based on the color of their skin.

"Virginia, Alexandria, I should warn you both—we keep a, uh, rigorous pace in AP English. The AP students take this very seriously. So, if my class proves to be too much for either of you, I suggest you do yourselves a favor and move down to regular English, okay? I’d hate to see either of you bite off more than you can chew.” He smiled at them, though it felt far from reassuring. “Uh, we cover all the greats—Steinbeck, Salinger, Miller, Homer, Fitzgerald, Shakespeare, of course. Sixteen books in total. Okay?” He handed them the syllabus.

“It’s Ginny,” Ginny corrected him.

“I prefer Alex,” Alex added, following Ginny to two available seats in the back.

Ginny scoffed as they claimed their desks, “It’s like we’re living in a Crest commercial.”

As they took their seats, the teacher addressed the class. “Welcome back, AP English. Hiding in the back there, you will find our new students, Virginia and Alexandria Miller. I trust you will make them feel welcome. I know it’s our first day back from summer vacation, but I thought it was an excellent opportunity for a pop quiz. Those of you who didn’t do the summer reading of The Crucible are in for a world of pain.” He began distributing the quiz sheets and then turned back to the Millers. “Uh, don’t worry, Virginia and Alexandria, I don’t expect either of you to have read it.”

Ginny and Alex exchanged a glance, experiencing a rare moment of twin telepathy that they hadn’t felt since they were kids. They both raised their hands, prompting the teacher to ask, “Oh, yes, you both have a question?”

“There are 16 books on this syllabus…” Ginny began, her tone measured and controlled.

“Yes, like I said, you both can always drop down…” Mr. Gitten interrupted, clearly expecting them to back down.

Alex picked up where Ginny left off, “Fourteen are written by men, fifteen were written by white people,” she stated, her voice unwavering.

Ginny continued, “And we’ll guess the one black author will crop up for Black History Month, right?” Her tone was laced with irony.

The teacher was not amused. “Excuse me?” he said, his voice tight.

“We’re very serious about our education, Mr. Gitten,” Ginny stated, meeting his gaze head-on.

Alex added, “We’re worried we might internalize an ideology that the main viewpoint, the viewpoint worth studying in the class, the viewpoint of the greats, is only that of the white male, thus eradicating our voice as immaterial.”

Ginny concluded, “And finally, we’re worried we won’t be stimulated intellectually.” The classroom erupted in snickers, the students amused by their boldness. “Also, my sister and I have read The Crucible, so we’re confident we can take the quiz today.”

“Are you two through?” Mr. Gitten asked, still unamused.

“No,” Alex replied.

Ginny added, “Please call me Ginny and my sister here Alex.”

Some students chuckled at their defiance.

Mr. Gitten’s face hardened. “Well, I don’t know how things were done at your last school, but here, we don’t tolerate political outbursts and grandstanding at the expense of your peers’ class time.” When another student raised their hand, he turned his attention to them. “Yes, Maxine?”

Maxine responded dramatically, “Hi. I’m like, also super concerned about my subconscious digestion of the superiority of the white male perspective. Also, I have cramps, so can I go to the nurse?”

Mr. Gitten was losing his patience. “Alright, that’s it. For the rest of the class, we will be silent and take the pop quiz. It’s worth 10% of your first semester grade.”

Alex rolled her eyes, pulled out her pen, and wrote her name on the test. She was more than ready to prove that she deserved to be there but was pissed to high heaven that she had to.

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After class, Alex made a beeline for Ginny’s locker. “Oh my deity of your choosing, I hate that guy. Ugh, it took everything I had not to throw my pens at him!”

“Racism is real, yo,” Ginny responded sarcastically, shoving books into her locker.

“Ugh,” Alex grunted, her frustration palpable. “Later,” she added, heading to her own locker to stow her books before lunch.

As she opened her locker, she noticed a boy from her math class a few lockers down. He was hard to forget, with a faint scar running from below his left eye to his chin. She’d spent most of math class daydreaming about the possible stories behind that scar.

Closing her locker, she was startled to find him staring at her. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she scoffed incredulously.

Without missing a beat, he shrugged, pulled out his phone, and snapped a picture of her before walking away. “Wow,” Alex chuckled to herself, heading to the cafeteria. She wasn’t sure what to make of that guy—creep or not—but damn, that was amusing.

In the cafeteria, Alex grabbed a tray and got in line. The chatter of students that filled the grated on her nerves. She wanted to think, to work on her book, but the constant noise was a distraction. She scanned the room, noticing Ginny’s absence and finding it odd. It wasn’t like Alex wanted to sit with her sister, it was just weird that Ginny wasn’t present. Not really caring, Alex headed straight to an empty table in the back and took a seat.

As Alex went into her bag to pull out her notebook, she sensed the presence of someone sitting across from her. Looking up, she found herself face-to-face with the boy from earlier. He looked at her with an unreadable expression, making her heart race slightly. It made her uncomfortable because she couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her racing.

“Do you always eat alone?” he asked, his tone neutral and deliberately hard to read.

Alex raised an eyebrow, her guard up. “Do you always take pictures of people without asking?” she countered, her voice edged with suspicion.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Only when they say something memorable.”

Alex couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Well, that’s one way to break the ice.”

“I’m Press,” he introduced himself.

“Alex,” she replied, giving a nod.

The conversation started off a bit tense, with Alex keeping her answers short and guarded. Press seemed unfazed, his demeanor calm and neutral. As they talked about classes and teachers, Alex began to relax. She found herself genuinely interested in his perspectives and enjoyed his dry sense of humor.

“You know, you’re not as creepy as I thought,” Alex admitted with a grin as the lunch period drew to a close.

Press chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Later, Alex.”

Alex gathered her things as Press left the table, then made her way to her next class: Art.

For some, Art class might offer a sense of calm or escape, but not for Alex. The scent of paint and clay in the room only amplified her anxiety. It wasn’t just her lack of artistic talent; it was the memories associated with it that left her feeling frustrated, anxious, and tense among so many other things. Alex hated that class and the memories it dredged up. She’d have to transfer out of there as soon as possible.

Thankfully, Alex was pulled from her thoughts when the teacher, Ms. Lopez, greeted her warmly. “Welcome. You must be Alexandria Miller. Please come in and find a seat wherever you like. Today, we’re working on self-portraits.”

“Call me Alex,” she responded a bit too harshly, unintentionally. She added a softer, “Thanks,” and found a seat by the window, hoping the view might offer some distraction.

Once class officially started, she picked up a pencil and attempted to sketch. Her mind raced, bombarded with memories she wished to forget. The lines on the paper seemed to mock her, refusing to form anything recognizable. Frustration built up inside her until she couldn’t take it anymore. She tore the paper off the pad, crumpled it up, and threw it aside in a fit of anger.

Expecting Ms. Lopez to come over and scold her for the outburst, Alex was surprised to hear a different yet familiar voice. “Need some help?”

She looked up to see Press standing next to her, his expression as unreadable as ever. She hadn’t realized he was in this class. “No,” she lied. “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” he replied, sliding a stool over to sit beside her. He picked up her discarded sketch from the floor. “You’re terrible at this.”

Alex narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing as he gestured for her to hand over her pencil. Reluctantly, she did.

“It’s really not as hard as you think,” Press said, guiding her through the process. “Just start with basic shapes and build from there.”

Alex rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, but her skepticism waned as she watched him. Her eyes widened when the drawing began to take shape. “Whoa, you’re really good at this,” she said, impressed.

Press shrugged. “You tell anyone, I’ll deny everything.”

Alex laughed, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

They worked together for the rest of the class, with Press patiently guiding Alex through each step of the drawing process. Each stroke of the pencil helped Alex focus, but it wasn't the improvement in her art that made her feel better—it was Press's steady presence that pushed down the bad memories haunting her. By the end of the class, the sense of dread had lessened.

Realizing this, however, terrified Alex. She never thought she'd ever feel that way towards someone after what happened to her. The idea of letting her guard down, even just a little, was both frightening and unexpected. Yet, with Press around, she wondered if she might actually get through this so she wouldn’t have to transfer out after all.

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“I’m home!” Alex called out as she stepped through the door after school, the scent of their new home washing over her. She heard Georgia’s voice coming from upstairs, “I’m getting changed!”

“You better be decent by the time I get up there,” Alex called back, heading up the stairs. Her footsteps sounded louder in the quiet house as she made her way into Georgia’s room since no one else seemed to be around.

“I’ll be right out, baby girl,” Georgia replied from her bathroom. Alex walked out onto the patio, feeling a slight breeze.

Alex looked around with a smile. “I should have stolen this room from you!” she laughed, taking in the cozy arrangement of plants and furniture. Her laughter abruptly stopped when she saw a blue flowered potted plant by the patio door. The sight of it sent a jolt through her. “What the hell is that doing here?!” she screamed, her voice cracking.

Georgia rushed out of the bathroom, fully dressed, and pulled her daughter inside, closing the door behind them. “Calm down, Lexi.”

“Calm down?!” Alex shouted back. “Calm down?! How the hell could you bring that here? Why did you bring that here, Mom?!” Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and panic.

“I have my reasons, baby girl,” Georgia tried to explain, her voice soothing but firm. She reached out to touch Alex’s arm, but Alex pulled away, shaking her head.

“There is no good reason for keeping that!” Alex’s voice broke, and tears streamed down her face, her chest heaving with each breath.

Georgia pulled Alex into a tight embrace, holding her as she sobbed. “Breathe, Alex, breathe. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Just ignore it and move on, you hear me?”

Alex was hyperventilating but slowly steadied her breathing, each inhale and exhale becoming more controlled. She closed her eyes, willing herself to push everything down as far as she could. When she finally pulled back, she looked at her mother with a mix of hurt and betrayal. “You should have told me.”

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Georgia asked, her eyes searching Alex’s for any sign of change in her resolve.

“No,” Alex replied firmly, wiping her tears away. “I just didn’t expect you to keep it.” With that, she turned and left the room, her voice trailing behind her, “I need to do my assignment.”

Georgia watched her go, her heart heavy with concern. She believed that once things calmed down, Alex would be right as rain. Nothing was going to stop them from moving on and having the future they deserved. Deep down, she knew Alex felt the same way, even if it was buried beneath layers of pain.

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Alex sat on her bed, clutching a pad and pencil, trying to recreate what Press had shown her in class. But the lines wouldn’t come together – maybe it was because she couldn’t focus or maybe it was because it just didn’t feel right. She tore off a sheet, frustration mounting, and was about to start again when she heard Ginny and their mom arguing out in the hall. With a sigh, she put on her headphones, blasting music to drown out the noise. She held her pencil over the paper, but unwanted memories began to flood her mind.

About a year ago, Alex sat in the art room of the teen community center back in Texas . She was struggling in her art class at school and thought extra lessons at the center might help. The instructor trusted her enough to let her stay after hours to practice alone.

Alex looked up when a guy she’d seen around the center came into the room. She didn’t think anything of it and just went on with what she was doing, that was until he was behind her and the next thing she knew she was pulled from her seat and bent over the cabinets against the wall. The smell of paint and clay filled her senses overshadowing the searing pain caused by his actions.

When he was done, Alex turned around slowly and grabbed the stool she had been sitting on. “Hey!” she managed to shout. When he turned, she swung the stool with all her strength, hitting him where it hurt most. He screamed in agony, and Alex threw the stool on the floor, walking out with a cold, “Goddamned bee.”

In shock, Alex went home and broke down as she told Georgia what had happened, before locking the trauma deep within her…or so she thought.

Back in her room, Alex didn’t even realize she had thrown something until she noticed her cracked reflection in the mirror across the room. She got up slowly, examining the spider cracks that made her reflection look jagged and shattered. “That’s it,” she muttered. She rummaged through a bin on her shelf and pulled out her old instamatic camera that somehow still worked.

Setting it up, Alex took a picture of herself and her broken reflection. The teacher wanted a self-portrait? She would get one.

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The next day at school, Alex found herself surrounded at her locker by Maxine from AP English, Ginny, and two other girls she had seen around but hadn’t met yet. The bustling hallway seemed to close in on her as she took in the sight of the group. “Am I about to be challenged to a smackdown?” she asked, her tone sardonic. “If so, I should warn you now that I will be the last one standing.”

“Are you hooking up with Press? You’ve been seen eating lunch with him twice now,” Maxine asked quickly, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Because if you are, you should be warned that he is totally messed up.”

“He’s a psychotic sociopath; you can do so much better,” one of the unknown girls said, the tallest of the bunch, her expression serious.

“If you’re that desperate, we can set you up with someone,” the shortest girl chimed in, her tone dripping with condescension—something Alex quickly picked up on.

“Got anything to add, Ginny?” Alex asked, looking at her sister. When Ginny remained silent, Alex closed her locker with a decisive clang and addressed the group. “Am I hooking up with Press? No. You say he’s messed up, well, who’s to say I’m not messed up too? A psychotic sociopath? Those kinda cancel each other out, so you’re telling me he’s relatively normal, are you not? For the record, I’m not desperate, and if I was looking for someone to date, the last people I would ask are you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to class.”

Alex pushed her way through the group, her determination palpable. “And for the record, just because you’re friends with Ginny doesn’t mean you need to talk to me. Just saying.” She waved goodbye before striding down the hallway. She could just imagine what those girls were saying to Ginny about her and what Ginny would be saying right back.

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When Alex reached the art classroom, she hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Was she fully prepared to keep everything buried, or would the familiar smells and sights trigger her again? The weight of her past pressed heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Just when she was about to skip the class altogether, she heard Press’s voice from behind her, “Waiting for an invitation?”

“Yes,” Alex answered without turning around, her voice carrying a hint of defiance. “Gold-embossed and everything.”

Press chuckled dryly, stepping past her and holding the door open, cocking his head for her to follow.

Alex groaned inwardly, forcing herself to move forward. As she made her way to her usual seat, she noticed Press chose the one beside her. She didn't want to think much of it, but a small part of her was comforted by his presence.

Ms. Lopez approached with a warm encouraging smile. “How is your self-portrait coming along? I noticed you had a little help yesterday from my best student.” She smiled at Press, acknowledging his assistance.

“It’s done,” Alex replied, her voice steady but her hands slightly trembling. She opened her art sketchbook, unclipped the instant photo, and handed it to Ms. Lopez.

Ms. Lopez examined the photograph, her face lighting up with approval. “Very creative, and you clearly played to your strengths.”

“If I played to my strengths, there’d be a story or poem with it,” Alex countered, her tone sharp as she emphasized where her true talent lay.

Ms. Lopez’s curiosity was piqued. “And what would the poem be?”

Alex took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she recited, “Shattered glass, broken soul, forever fractured, never whole. Ever cracked, never to mend, from the beginning to the end.” Each word felt like a release, a small piece of the burden lifting from her shoulders.

Ms. Lopez looked at Alex with a mix of awe and admiration. “That was heartbreakingly beautiful. You pass this assignment and in record time, too.” She handed the picture back to Alex and moved on to check on another student.

As Alex clipped the picture back into her book, she felt Press's gaze on her. She glanced over at him, her curiosity mingled with apprehension. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied flatly. “You’re just getting more interesting.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” With that, Alex turned her attention back to the blank paper on the easel in front of her. She started randomly doodling, but her mind kept drifting back to Press. Every now and then, she found herself stealing glances toward him, but scolded herself from doing so. It wasn’t him or what those girls said about him that made her do so, it was her own past. Alex had more baggage than anyone could imagine and never planned on dumping it on anyone.

--------------------------------------------------

Alex dodged Ginny and her new entourage of friends after school, making a beeline for the parking lot where her mom's car was parked. As she approached, her little brother Austin greeted her with an enthusiastic “Car picnic!” waving his hands excitedly from inside the car.

Alex felt a wave of annoyance. A car picnic was undoubtedly Georgia's attempt to smooth things over with both her and Ginny. She forced a smile and said, “I have a lot of homework to do.”

“You can finish it later. Come on, baby girl, get in and we’ll go when Ginny inevitably walks away from who she’s talking to and comes over here.” Georgia smiled and waved at Ginny, urging her to hurry up and join them.

Alex adjusted her backpack, the weight of her textbooks adding to her irritation. “I’m serious, Mom. I don’t want to go.”

Georgia’s expression softened at her daughter’s resolute tone. She leaned closer to Alex, her eyes filled with concern. “Okay, I won’t make you. But do you forgive me?” She pouted playfully, taking Alex’s hands and swinging them back and forth in a familiar, comforting motion.

Alex rolled her eyes again but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “There’s literally only one thing that you could ever do that I wouldn’t forgive you for, so of course I do.”

Georgia’s curiosity was piqued, but she decided to save that question for later. For now, she smiled wide. “Good. Now go off and do your homework or whatever it is you’re actually going to do. I’ll save a burger and some donuts for you.”

Alex gave her mom a thumbs up. “Later, Austin,” she said before walking away, just as Ginny began storming towards Georgia. Perfect timing, she thought. She was so not in the mood to deal with Ginny and honestly, just wanted to be left alone.

--------------------------------------------------

Alex found herself wandering into the Allegro music shop in town, drawn by the need to escape her thoughts. She slipped into one of the listening booths, the quiet hum of the store fading behind her. She typed the name of the song she was looking for into the touchscreen, put on the headphones, and closed her eyes. As the music blasted into her ears, she tried to drown out one set of painful memories, only to be ambushed by another...

Ginny, Alex, and Georgia were practicing yoga, a ritual Kenny had introduced, given his ownership of three yoga studios. Ginny and Georgia were bickering about family dinner and what constituted a 'real' family.

“Oh just shut up, Ginny,” Alex scoffed, abandoning her pose to stand upright. “Mom married Kenny, that makes him part of our family. We’re going to have dinner together. What’s the big freaking deal?”

“We already have a dad,” Ginny countered, referring to Zion.

“Just because he shares half of our DNA doesn’t make him our dad. If he was a dad, a real dad, he’d be here!” Alex's voice trembled with anger, still raw from the memory of breaking down in Georgia's arms, wishing for her father in a moment of weakness. Since that night, Alex had sworn never to ask for Zion again.

Georgia, sensing the rising tension, tried to diffuse the situation. “Alright, girls, that’s enough. Lexi, come with me.”

Just then, Kenny sauntered into the room, his presence filling the space. “When will dinner be ready? I’m starving.”

Georgia smiled, masking her own frustrations. “Lexi and I were just about to check on it. Shouldn’t be long.” She gave Kenny a quick peck and led the way out.

Alex lingered behind, her eyes narrowing as she watched Kenny 'assist' Ginny with her yoga pose, his hands sliding up her leg despite Ginny's protests. Alex interjected, her voice too sweet, “Dinner’s ready,” then headed towards the dining room, seething inside. “Goddamned bee,” she muttered under her breath.

Alex knew Georgia kept that blue flowered plant because it was pretty, but Alex was well aware of its darker capabilities. And now, she knew what Kenny was capable of. She’d be damned if she let what happened to her happen to her sister.

Determined, Alex clipped the flowers off the plant and added them to the smoothie mixture she was preparing for Kenny. When it was ready, she smiled at Kenny as he entered the kitchen that morning. “Good morning, Kenny. I made this for you. I hope you like it,” she said, her voice filled with false cheer.

“Aw, thank you sweetie,” he replied, accepting the smoothie cup and cupping her chin. “Don’t tell Ginny, but you’re my favorite daughter.”

Alex forced the smile to stay on her face until Kenny left, then quickly cleaned up to ensure no one else would drink what she had made.

“Good morning, Lexi. Aren’t you going to be late for school?” Georgia asked, heading towards the blender to see what Alex had mixed up.

“I have a free period first thing this semester. I’m good,” Alex answered as she rinsed out the bowls and reached for the blender.

“Ooo, this looks good,” Georgia said, about to taste the mixture, only for Alex to scream, “Don’t taste that!” and knock the cup out of her hand.

Georgia’s concern deepened. “Lexi…why can’t I drink this?” When Alex didn’t answer, she asked more firmly, “Alexandria, why can’t I drink this? What did you do?”

Alex wrung the dish towel in her hands, her resolve crumbling as she told Georgia everything...

As the song ended, so did the memories. Alex hoped that meant they were successfully locked away again. She exited the booth and made her way home. Just like she told Ginny’s so-called friends—who said she wasn’t messed up too?

--------------------------------------------------

End Season 1 Episode 1

[alexandria-miller]

@missunderstoodxoxo's mood board inspired me to peruse GIFs on Google. When I saw these they reminded me of Alex and Press from My Mother's Daughter, so this happened.

[calliopewrights]

In an attempt to combat my writer's block I've challenged myself with writing every week, just for the sake of writing, even if it's just a few lines. For accountability and *insert I made dis meme* I've decided to share them with you on Wednesdays.

Being just a few days before mother's day it felt fitting that this week's post was a tribute to my mother who taught me to write my name and gifted me with my love for the written word, also the fact that I now hear her voice when I open my mouth.

So welcome to WhimsiCalli Worded Wednesdays and big up Mama Wrights!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Calliope Wrights (@calliope.n.poetry)

[sadpoetrycore]

a poem called “love, death” from my book “love, or the absence thereof”

[0utlaw-t0rn]

@mothercain

[bruciemilf]

Bruce being so smiley and happy around Robin! Jason shatters me so intimately. Soft as hell if this continues when Jason’s red hood, too.

“Robin,” Bruce calls him that out of habit and isn’t at all surprised when Jason swiftly punches his arm, only to rub the place a moment later, even if Bruce barely notices. “This is not the time for jokes.”

“ Three o’clock is always the time for jokes. You scheduled it.”

“Nightwing was turned into a rabbit. And you’re laughing.”

“Have you seen the guy’s Tik Toks? This is as dignified as he’ll ever be.”

Jason is very sure Dick can understand them, because he’s biting hard through his boots. Even harder when Bruce snorts and presses his lips in a white line.

Don’t get me wrong, thought, it’s vice versa.

“I think we’re gonna have to kill this guy, B.” Talking about a guy who cut the line in Batburger while Cass was trying to order.

Bruce, in his Batman voice, “fuck!”

Jason has one of those laughing fits where you get on the floor, breathless and limp. “This brings up memories.”

“ROBIN.”

[junkyardstrash]

Ethel Cain sketchbook collection

[somewillwin]

Once again spreading my soulmates share pain/wounds AU where Cassandra saving her daughter actually saves vi too.

Also I just need more cait and Cassandra content pretty please. I have all the Kirafeels and this was pretty quick but yes

Kofi

[fashion-runways]

JIMMY CHOO X SAILOR MOON Collaboration 2024 if you want to support this blog consider donating to: ko-fi.com/fashionrunways

[louferrignojrofficial]

LOU FERRIGNO JR as KIP WERNER GUEST HOUSE (2020)

[erraticrandomficwriter]

Below the cut is Season 1 Episode 2 of my Ginny and Georgia Fanfic; My Mother's Daughter

At the bleak hour of 3 AM, Alex jolted awake, heart pounding, and sweat slicking her brow from another nightmare. Try as she might, sleep eluded her. She sighed and reached for her notepad; a song idea had sprouted from the chaos of her dreams, and she wasn’t about to let it slip away.

Alex’s creativity wasn’t confined to just writing stories and poems. She also sang, played the guitar, and wrote songs. Unlike Ginny, who excelled at the piano, Alex kept her musical talents hidden. Georgia probably didn’t even know she could play the guitar. Alex had picked up playing the guitar in music class back in Texas and now imagined the chords since she didn’t have one of her own.

She often felt overshadowed by Ginny and preferred to keep some things to herself to avoid comparisons.

As she was finishing her lyrics, she heard Georgia and Ginny talking in the other room. She tried to ignore it until something about Chewbacca caught her attention. Curiosity piqued, she went to Ginny’s room and saw her sister plucking a hair from their mother’s chin with a pair of tweezers.

“I’m not awake enough for this,” Alex muttered, shaking her head before returning to her room and closing the door.

Restlessness gnawed at her, making her feel as though she couldn’t sit still. She loved her home in Wellsbury but sometimes felt an overwhelming urge to move, to do anything but remain idle.

Abandoning her half-finished song, Alex decided to prepare for school. Getting ready and having breakfast early would give her a legitimate reason to leave the house without sneaking out. With that plan in mind, she set about her morning routine, hoping the activity would help settle her restless energy.

----------------------------------------------------------

Alex’s plan worked perfectly. She got ready, had breakfast, left a note saying she had left for school, and was out of the house before anyone else was even downstairs. She found a quiet spot in the school’s hallway and resumed her songwriting as she waited for the first bell. he was so lost in her creative flow that when a small package landed on her lap out of nowhere, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Jesus!” she exclaimed, her heart racing.

“I’ve been called worse,” Press said with a grin, plopping down next to her and glancing at her notebook. “Working on another poem?”

“A song, actually,” Alex replied, closing the notebook and examining the package. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast,” Press said with a shrug, tearing into his own. “If you’re here this early, I figured you might’ve skipped eating.” He handed her a carton of milk to go with it.

“Thanks,” Alex said with a grateful smile, accepting the milk. “I know why I’m here this early, but what about you?”

“The cafeteria makes killer turnovers for breakfast,” Press replied, his gaze fixed on something across the hall as he ate.

Alex knew better than to pry when someone didn’t want to talk. She despised it when people did it to her, so she wasn’t going to do it to Press. Instead, she set the milk carton beside her, opened her package, and said, “I’ll be the judge of that.” She tore off a piece of the turnover and popped it into her mouth, her eyes widening in surprise. “Holy apples, Batman – this is amazing!”

Press nearly choked on his milk but managed to recover with a smug smile. “Told you.” He studied Alex for a moment, clearly debating whether to ask her something.

Noticing his hesitation, Alex waved her hand in front of his face. “What’s up with your face?”

“Why did you take a picture of your fractured reflection and write that poem for your self-portrait?” Press asked, his voice steady.

Alex wasn’t expecting that. She looked away, biting her lip in thought before answering, “We’re not close enough for me to tell you that.” She was referring to an incident involving a bee, not what had happened with Kenny. She doubted she’d ever tell him about the bee; she didn’t want him to see her differently after knowing.

Press didn’t push further. “Okay,” he said, finishing the last bit of his turnover and his milk. He got up and threw his trash away in a nearby barrel. When he returned, he held out his hand to help Alex off the floor. “The classroom should be unlocked by now.”

Alex took his hand, tossed her trash, and together they walked to their first-period classes.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Where were you this morning?” Ginny asked, sliding into her seat beside Alex in AP English.

“Over the rainbow sipping tea with the Mad Hatter and the Scarecrow,” Alex replied, not lifting her eyes from her notebook.

“Is that a euphemism for something, or are you just avoiding the question?” Ginny pressed, genuinely puzzled.

Alex finally looked up and beamed, “Yes,” before diving back into her writing. She’d let Ginny puzzle over that one.

The bell rang, cutting off any further questions. However, as soon as class was over and they lined up to get their quizzes back, Ginny cornered her again. “I’m serious, where were you? Mom was freaking out until she saw your note.”

“I highly doubt that,” Alex replied coolly. “Besides, you said she saw my note, which clearly stated I was going to school early. So why are you asking me where I was?” Alex’s patience was wearing thin, and Ginny’s persistence wasn’t helping.

“I think what Ginny really wants to know is if you snuck out to hook up with Press before school,” Maxine chimed in with a smirk.

“Oh my deity of your choosing,” Alex groaned, rolling her eyes. Her attention snapped back to the teacher, who announced that only one student had a perfect score and that Hunter Chen was the one to beat. When Ginny and Alex got their quizzes back, both were scored 100%. “Racism is real, yo,” Alex muttered sarcastically as she exited the classroom, echoing Ginny’s words from their first day.

At her locker, Alex suddenly felt someone’s presence far too close behind her. She screamed and scrambled away, heart pounding, only to realize it was Press. He was approaching her slowly, like one might approach a startled deer. “Don’t do that!” she screamed again, not caring who heard.

“Whoa, Alex, I’m sorry…” Press’s apology was genuine. He hadn’t even managed to get out his intended “Boo!” before she freaked out. “Alex, you’re shaking.” He followed her into an empty classroom, watching as she hugged herself tightly, avoiding his gaze. Her behavior spoke volumes. “Who hurt you?”

Alex’s mind was a whirlwind, memories crashing down like a relentless tide. It wasn’t until Press’s words broke through that she managed to tether herself to the present. “What?” she asked, her voice fractured.

Press approached cautiously, stopping when she looked ready to bolt. “Who hurt you? Give me their name, and I swear I’ll make them pay.”

Alex saw the fierce determination in his eyes. She cleared her throat before speaking again. “I already did. Metal stool, below the belt – he won’t be hurting anyone else again.” She could see the anger simmering in Press, barely contained. “It happened in Texas, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

Press paced, trying to calm himself. “Okay.” After a moment, he stopped and asked, “Permission to hug you?”

Alex felt tears welling up. When she practically threw herself at Press, she knew she was clinging to him like a lifeline she hadn’t realized she needed.

So much for keeping it to herself, but Press didn’t run for the hills. If anything, it seemed to bring them closer, and to her surprise, Alex didn’t mind that one bit.

----------------------------------------------------------

After school, Alex was brought to the guidance counselor’s office by her Math teacher for a meeting to discuss her progress. Alex repeatedly told them that she didn't need tutoring, but they just pointed at her assignments and insisted. They even threatened to call her mother, Georgia, for a chat about next steps. Alex knew that bringing Georgia into this would lead to a lecture about her school performance and yet another comparison to Ginny. Though she doubted her mom even realized she was doing it, so she begrudgingly agreed to the tutoring. Again, it’s not like she needed it.

Alex plopped herself at a table by the window at Joe's Cafe, waiting for her tutor. She audibly groaned when she saw Hunter walking in. Sure, she knew that Hunter and Press were friends, but since Hunter dated Ginny, she figured Ginny would hear all about this.

"Hey, Alex," Hunter greeted with a friendly smile, setting his bag on the floor and sitting across from her. "I brought some practice pages for you to do so I can get a sense of your starting point, and we can go from there." He placed the papers and a pencil in front of her. "Do you have any questions before we get started?"

"Yeah, can we just pretend we did this whole tutoring thing so we can leave? I don't need tutoring, so you're just wasting your time." Alex’s annoyance was palpable.

Hunter looked at her supportively. "It's okay, Alex. Not everyone gets this, and if you're worried about me telling anyone, I won't."

Seeing the determination in Hunter’s eyes, Alex knew he wasn’t going to back down, so she begrudgingly started working on the sheets while he talked.

Hunter, thinking she was ignoring him and doodling, said, "I give you my word, I won't tell anyone you need tutoring." He added, "Could you at least try to be respectful and not doodle on the papers?"

"I'm not doodling," Alex retorted defensively. "I'm a horrible artist, so I don't doodle. You can ask Press if you don’t believe me. And like I said, I don't need tutoring. It's not that I can't do it; I just don’t care to. If the teacher paid attention, she’d see that I deliberately do just enough to pass. Why put effort into something I don't care about? Before you start lecturing me on respect, that goes both ways. How about you respect me enough to, oh, I don’t know, believe me when I say I don't need this?" She didn’t even look up from the papers as she spoke, and when she finished, she slapped the practice sheets down in front of Hunter— all completed.

Hunter looked shocked, his eyes wide as he saw that every single answer was correct. He flipped through the pages, checking to make sure the answer key wasn’t mixed in. "How...what..." he stammered.

"I told you I didn't need tutoring," Alex said, smugly.

"You sure don't," he laughed. "But I don't get it—why don't you do the work if you can clearly do it? Why aren't you in AP Math, too?"

Alex sighed with an elaborate hand gesture. "Were you not listening? I don't care about Math or any other subject. I do just enough to not get held back and focus on what I like. No point in wasting time on the other stuff.”

Hunter was still processing everything. "You could literally get into any college..."

Alex practically leaped out of her chair to lean over the table and cover his mouth with her hand. "I've heard it all before—no intention of hearing it again. If you promise to hush and never bring it up again, I'll show gradual improvement or whatever. Deal?"

When Hunter nodded, she removed her hand, returned to her seat, and sighed. "So, now what? We can go, right?"

Hunter, needing to collect his tutoring hours, said, "Actually...could we work on something? Anything? Joe needs to sign off that I've been here tutoring, and I’m counting on these hours to..."

Alex held up her hand. "Say no more. Homework it is."

Hunter was surprised she agreed. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

Alex shrugged. "You don't annoy me as much as I thought you would, so no biggie."

Hunter looked amused and confused. "Thanks, I guess."

Alex set her homework down. "I don't particularly care for Ginny's friends, and you're part of that group, so I assumed you'd be as nail-on-a-chalkboard-esque as them."

"Press is friends with them, too," Hunter countered.

"His so-called friends called him a psycho sociopath and told me I could do better. You may be friends with them and Press may be friends with you, but those ladies are so not his friends," Alex said without hesitation.

Hunter took that into consideration. "Noted." He then spotted some music notes and lyrics on one of Alex's notebook pages. "You're a songwriter?"

Alex flipped the page and went back to her History assignment. "We're not friends enough to get into that."

Hunter held his hands up in a playful, dramatic 'I surrender' manner. He could definitely see why Press was so into Alex and hoped it’d work out for them.

----------------------------------------------------------

When Alex got home after Hunter’s ‘tutoring session’ ended, she found Press perched on the front steps of her house, waiting. She couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her chest at the sight of him there, almost like he was a guardian waiting to ensure she made it home safe.

“You’re not gonna go all Edward Cullen on me and watch me when I sleep, are you?” she teased, her playful smirk masking the genuine curiosity and slight nervousness beneath.

Press’s face turned stoic, masking any hint of confusion. “I have no idea what you’re referencing.”

Alex squinted at him, trying to discern if he was serious. A flicker of amusement crossed her mind, lightening the lingering weight of her day. She sat down beside him, chuckling. “What’s up?”

“You weren’t at Brodie’s tonight. Everything okay?” He cut straight to the chase, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.

“I had to do some mandatory tutoring,” Alex explained, rolling her eyes dramatically. “It was easier than dealing with the school calling my mom in.”

Press raised an eyebrow. “You’re literally one of the smartest people I know. You don’t need tutoring.”

“That’s what I tried to tell them,” Alex sighed, leaning back on her arms. She could see the concern in Press’s eyes, and it touched her more than she expected. “I’m fine, Press.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he snapped, then immediately softened, rubbing his brow. Guilt tugged at him—he hadn’t meant to sound harsh. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you did, and that’s okay,” Alex took a deep breath, feeling the weight of unspoken truths pressing against her ribcage. “I’m not lying when I say I’m fine.” She saw Press about to counter, so she quickly added, “F is for feeling overwhelmed. I is for I’m not alright. N is for not being able to sleep, E for every night.” Alex couldn’t take credit for that, but when she heard the song ‘Fine by Kyle Hume’ she felt it in her soul.

Alex flashed a wide smile, masking the turmoil inside. “I’m very good at burying things and saying what needs to be said so people don’t freak out around me.”

“You don’t have to wear a mask around me,” Press’s tone softened, a gentleness threading through his words. He wished she’d let him in, just a little bit more.

“It’s not a mask,” Alex countered with a small smile, though her heart ached with the effort of keeping the walls up. “It’s a face.” She wrapped her arms around his and leaned on his shoulder, craving the comfort of his presence. “I’m never going to tell you the full story.”

Press didn’t move, didn’t look at her. He could feel the unspoken pain radiating from Alex, and all he wanted was to ease it. “Okay,” he said simply and sincerely, and that was good enough for Alex.

----------------------------------------------------------

Up in her room, Alex was getting ready for bed when Georgia came in. She was braiding her hair, trying to unwind from a long day – ironically, because in a way she was literally winding her hair.

“Who were you talking to outside?” Georgia asked, her voice curious.

“Matt Press,” Alex answered, deftly finishing the braid. “He’s a friend.”

“A friend who is a boy?” Georgia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you going to be okay with that?”

Alex turned to face her mother, meeting her gaze head-on. “Yes, I’m okay. And…he kinda knows what happened. When he snuck up on me, I kinda freaked, and he figured it out.”

Georgia’s legs wobbled, and she had to sit down. The revelation was like a punch to the gut, causing a swirl of emotions—fear, relief, and a deep, aching sadness for her daughter’s pain.

Since Georgia was uncharacteristically silent, Alex continued, feeling a need to fill the heavy silence. “He didn’t react like I thought he would…he was supportive and asked for my permission to give me a hug. After everything, I really didn’t think I could get close to a boy, and I’m not saying that he and I will ever get close physically, I’m just saying…it’s good, Mom. I’m good.” There was a mix of hope and vulnerability in her voice, a quiet plea for understanding.

Georgia swallowed the words she wanted to say because, for the first time in a long time, she saw that Alex genuinely meant she was good. Instead, she put on a warm smile, feeling a surge of maternal pride and love, and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I’m glad. After all, not all men…”

She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Alex responded instantly, the playful sparkle in her eyes returning. “Of course not. Gomez Addams would never.”

Georgia chuckled, a wave of relief washing over her. “My little Addams fanatic,” she said softly, her voice filled with affection. “Goodnight, Lexi,” she added before leaving the room.

Alex glanced at her new mirror and smiled – for the first time in a long time, it was a genuine one. The reflection staring back at her wasn’t forced or feigned, her smile was real and for the first time in a long time Alex thought she might actually sleep through the night because of it.

----------------------------------------------------------

At school the next day, Hunter hurried down the hall, weaving through the crowd until he caught sight of Alex. His heart pounded as he approached her, his steps quickening with urgency. He caught up with her and, panting slightly, blurted out, “Okay, so, I really need you to be cool and please, don’t hate me.”

Alex’s brows knitted in confusion. She couldn’t fathom what Hunter might have done to warrant such a plea. Trying to control the flood of anxious thoughts racing through her mind, she met his gaze and said, “I make no promises. What did you do?”

Hunter stopped abruptly, causing Alex to halt as well. He winced, his face a mask of regret as he confessed, “I may have told your guidance counselor that you’re incredibly smart and should be in AP classes.”

Alex felt her blood start to boil, the heat of anger rising from her chest to her cheeks. “You may have done it, or you did do it?” she demanded, emphasizing the words ‘may’ and ‘did’.

Hunter looked away, guilt etched on his face. “I did,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He could see the fury blazing in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Alex, I just couldn’t let you throw away your chance at college and…” His words trailed off as Alex stormed away, fury in her stride. He raced after her, calling out, “Look, I’m sorry but…”

Alex whirled around, jabbing her finger into his chest as she advanced, forcing him to backpedal until he was pressed against the wall. “No buts. There are no buts in this situation. I trusted you, and you betrayed that trust. You had no right interfering in my life. Do you think I want to be in the same classes as my sister, constantly being compared to her? Now I’ll never hear the end of it from Ginny and my mom! I just wanted to stay under the radar, make my own choices, and you took that away from me!”

Hunter could see that her reaction was about more than just his betrayal. This outburst stemmed from deeper issues, from wounds he hadn’t known existed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, feeling helpless.

“I don’t care,” Alex snapped, removing her finger from his chest and walking away, her anger leaving a tangible trail behind her. This time, Hunter didn’t follow.

Press entered the hall just in time to see Alex walking away from Hunter. Concerned, he approached his friend and asked, “What’s up?”

Hunter sighed heavily, the weight of his mistake pressing down on him. “I was assigned to tutor Alex and found out she’s a lot smarter than she lets on. I told her guidance counselor.”

Press looked at him like he was an idiot all whole doing his best not to get pissed. “Dude, Alex has her reasons.”

“I get that now,” Hunter replied, his remorse deepening. “She told me she only cared about English, but I didn’t realize there was more to it.” Granted, he didn’t know the whole story but with how Alex had spoken about being compared to Ginny, he could imagine.

Press shook his head at his friend. “You really screwed up, man. Good luck fixing it.”

“You’re not going to help me out here?” Hunter asked, hoping for some assistance.

“Nope,” Press said firmly, walking away.

Hunter exhaled deeply and headed to class, his mind racing with ways to make amends. He needed to fix things with Alex—not just because she was practically Press’s girlfriend and Ginny’s sister, but because he genuinely hoped they could become friends. He just hoped he could find a way.

----------------------------------------------------------

When Alex walked out of her guidance counselor’s office clutching her new AP class schedule, she felt a volcanic eruption of frustration bubbling within her. It took every ounce of her self-control not to tear the paper into confetti and scatter it across the hallway. She knew the inevitable confrontation with her mom awaited her—an interrogation about why she hadn’t been in these advanced classes from the start and why she’d coasted at a level far below her true capabilities. There was no escaping it now; Georgia wouldn’t let this slide. After giving Alex so much slack on bigger issues, her mom was sure to unleash her wrath this time.

As Alex stormed down the hall, she passed the lilac-painted wall where Ginny and her friends—Nora and Abby—stood, chatting. She hoped to glide by unnoticed, but Abby shot out her hand, gripping Alex’s wrist with a firm hold.

“Hey, Ginny’s twin, we’re going shopping, and you’re coming,” Abby said with a faux-sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey, the name’s Alex, and no, I’m not,” Alex retorted, yanking her hand free. She added with a sarcastic, high-pitched valley girl tone, “Thanks for the invite, though,” and flicked her hair dramatically before turning to walk away.

“You could have just said no,” Abby called after her, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “No need to be a bitch about it.”

That remark was the final straw. Alex stopped dead in her tracks, fury igniting in her eyes. She spun on her heels and marched back toward Abby, her expression murderous.

Seeing the brewing storm, Ginny quickly intervened, stepping between her sister and Abby. “Don’t ruin my chance at having friends, I beg of you,” she quietly pleaded, pushing Alex away.

“No promises,” Alex muttered, glaring daggers at Abby. She shot her the middle finger before continuing her march down the hall to her locker, where she needed to gather her textbooks for return. She’d be getting new ones the next day.

As Ginny rejoined Nora and Abby, Abby watched Alex’s retreating figure with a newfound respect. “She doesn’t take anyone’s crap. I’m totally in love with her,” she declared with a serious tone, then burst into laughter, with Nora and Ginny joining in soon after.

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Alex sat at the kitchen counter, her focus intently on the card game she was playing with Austin. The quiet hum of their playful competition was interrupted when Georgia and Ginny burst through the door. Ginny, radiating frustration, stormed straight up the stairs without a word. Georgia, visibly exasperated, entered the kitchen, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don’t know what I’m going to do with your sister,” she muttered, her voice heavy with fatigue.

Deciding to face the inevitable, Alex turned to Austin with a sigh. "We’ll play cards again later. I need to talk to Mom."

Austin, sensing the seriousness of the situation, nodded and began to gather the cards. "Okay," he said simply, before retreating up to his room.

Georgia, still releasing deep, weary sighs, set her water bottle down on the counter with a thud. She looked across at Alex, her expression a mix of concern and exasperation. "Please tell me you don’t have a crisis too. Or if you do, let it be a normal teenage crisis, like a zit that makes you feel like you’ll just die if you have to go to school tomorrow."

Alex couldn’t help but chuckle at the oddly specific example but quickly regained her composure. "With the exception of Art, I’m starting all AP classes tomorrow," she announced, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Georgia blinked, clearly taken aback. She moved around the counter island and perched on the stool beside Alex, her eyes searching her daughter’s face. "You barely get C’s in any class other than English, so please explain how you’re now in AP classes?"

Alex stood up, making her way to the fridge. She grabbed a can of cola and opened it with a crisp snap. "You know I don’t believe in wasting my time," she said, taking a sip. "So I just don’t bother in the classes that I don’t care about." She left out the part about avoiding being in the same classes as Ginny, a detail she wasn’t ready to share.

Georgia slowly rose from her seat, the realization dawning on her. "So this whole time—for years—you’ve been pretending not to be as smart as you are?" She didn’t wait for a response. "Why the hell would you do that, Lexi? And don’t give me that ‘oh, I just don’t care’ crap." She pointed a finger at Alex, her frustration boiling over. "You fooled me good, baby girl, and I don’t appreciate that. Once I figure out how to deal with everything else that’s going on, we will be having more of a conversation about this." With that, Georgia turned and left the kitchen, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

Alex exhaled a long breath, taking another sip of her soda. "Yep, that pretty much went the way I thought it would," she muttered to herself, the weight of the confrontation settling heavily on her shoulders.

With the tension between her and her mom still hanging in the air, Alex planned to retreat to her room for some much-needed solitude. That was the plan until a sudden knock at the front door made her spin around on her heels. She opened it to find Hunter standing there, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Ginny’s upstairs, I’ll go get her,” Alex said automatically, ready to dash away.

“Actually, I’m here for you,” Hunter interjected quickly before she could leave.

“Why? You have more decisions to make about my life?” Alex retorted, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her soda. She stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

“I deserve that,” Hunter admitted, then handed her a paper bag from the Wellsbury bookstore. “This is for you.”

Alex tapped her soda can thoughtfully. “Is this a bribe for my forgiveness?”

“Absolutely,” Hunter replied without missing a beat.

Alex chuckled, handing him her soda can. She took the bag from him and pulled out a compilation book of cartoons of the Addams Family by Charles Addams. Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh my deity of your choosing, this is amazing!” She laughed, flipping through the pages before looking back at Hunter. “How did you know I loved the Addams Family?”

Hunter shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “Your bag is covered with Addams Family-themed patches. I figured this would be a safe bet.” His eyes were hopeful. “Are we good?”

Alex closed the book, placing it back into the paper bag. She took her soda can from him and narrowed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “You’re lucky I love a good bribe.” She grinned, and he smiled along with her.

“Good, I’m glad. I really want us to be friends,” Hunter said earnestly.

Alex’s immediate response was blunt. “Right – not getting along with your friend’s friend and the girl you like’s sister probably wouldn’t bode well for you.”

“Not just that,” Hunter explained, “I think you’re cool and want to be your friend, just because.”

“A non-ulterior motive friend, eh? I’m good with that.” Alex lifted the bag. “Thank you for this. See you in class.”

Hunter smiled and waved as she went back inside the house. He walked back to his car parked down the street and got in, looking at Press who was sitting in the passenger seat. “You were right, she loved the book.”

“Told you,” Press replied, not looking away from his phone.

“I thought you weren’t going to help me though? Why did you give me the book?” Hunter asked, still puzzled.

“I wasn’t helping you, I was helping her,” Press replied seriously. “She could use you as a friend.”

Hunter could have easily teased Press for being sentimental, but he chose not to. Instead, he simply said, “I owe you one.”

“I aim to collect,” Press responded, his tone leaving no room for doubt. He had given Hunter the book because he wanted Alex to feel better and for her and Hunter to be friends. Press was willing to do anything to make Alex happy and he intended to see it through.

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End Season 1 Episode 2

[alexandria-miller]

Meet Maggie Press, a lively freshman and the younger sister of Matt Press. According to her brother, she's the embodiment of a Pixie Stick—bursting with energy, quick on her feet, a bit clumsy, and incredibly sweet. Though Press might pretend that her antics drive him crazy, deep down, Maggie is his favorite person in the world, aside from Alex.

[fruity-m0nster]

Just a little cub and her mum

[citrenecult]

Drew the Lamb, Narinder, and the Follower Bishops.

Some close ups.

[scourgery]

i woke up this morning with this image in my head and i just HAD to see how it would look

@mothercain †

[alexkablob]

Something about the inherent Lest/Maddie parallel that exists in Arcane S2—each of them the honeypot relaying the pillow talk of the clueless aristocrat they're sleeping with back to who they're really loyal to—and the way it reflects how Mel learned more from her mother than she likes admitting to herself (or than Ambessa ever gave her credit for until the very end) because, on the surface, they both use the same tactic to keep an eye on their potential rival.

And yet! Mel's compassionate treatment of Lest (a trans woman sex worker who she considers a genuine friend, is protective of and willing to accept criticism from, and who she refuses to consider expendable) contrasted to Ambessa's contingency plan with Maddie (a radicalized fascist who she converted into an asset by convincing her she was a more effective leader than Caitlyn and who was, in the end, eminently expendable) is one of the starkest illustrations of just how different Mel is, and how much better a leader of the Medarda clan she's going to be.