#they NEVER set aside any money for me to go to college

[wwwyzzerdd420]

Couldn't be me

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 41 || The Cute Bartender

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, very cute fluff, & teasing.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.6k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOUR QUESTION REMAINS unanswered for quite some time. To constantly weigh out your options of who would be a better lover for you is going to take time.

But, as of right now, even if you wanted to choose Gojo over Choso, he's already made it clear he's not allowing that. He doesn't think he's good for you and, in case you forgot, you're technically supposed to hate him.

That being said, your choice is already made for you.

But none of that is important right now. You were allowed a break until the semester began again but, since your university's winter break was a span of two, almost three months, you were honestly ready to finish the list by late January.

Even though you said you were taking a break from the men, you still kept in contact with them. You'd text Choso on some days but he'd often scold you about how you wanted a break, which only made you want to talk to him more.

Then, you even had your phone calls with Gojo which consisted of him doing the same damn thing-- pestering you by saying 'As much as I love listening to you talk, sweets, you're supposed to be taking a break from me' which, was just as sweet as the messages Choso would send.

Yeah, you were definitely falling for both of them in your own way and nothing could stop that. Even so, you were ready to get back to the list.

There was one name left. You couldn't believe it. As of now, you were laid out on your bed, your delicate fingers curled around a pen as you went down the list of yours. Reading over each name reminded you of your experiences with them, whether it was good or bad, and you were surprised you finally made it this far.

At one point, you doubted you could even do this. So many lessons have been learned, so many personalities and so many situations have been experienced. It's almost, emphasis on almost, beautiful when you think back on it.

To go from a broke and regular college student to one whose life is filled with drama, good (for the most part) sex, and men who've somehow managed to fall for you. It's the kinda thing you never imagined for yourself.

Just one semester ago, you were worried about even landing a job and now look at you; you've managed the money from Gojo better than ever so you're truly set for quite some time.

With a sigh, you place the pen down beside your journal and trace your fingers over the final name; Nanami Kento. Once you sleep with him it's over. It's almost bittersweet to think about.

As you stare at your journal, you think you have a plan for it once the list is complete. A plan that you've talked to Gojo about and he's agreed to-- the two of you are going to burn the list.

Neither of you want any physical evidence of it so you think burning it once it's complete will prove to be a nice way to say goodbye to the memories that come with the list. Nowhere in your text messages or his do you two discuss the list explicitly, just in case someone were ever to go through your devices, and the only time it's been talked about aside from in person is over phone calls.

But, you're not worrying about that getting out. Someone would have to dig really deep to find the recordings of you and Gojo's phone calls. Like, to the police deep to find them. Or hacking your cell. But, you have no reason to worry about that, right? Gojo said he's not involved in anything illegal and you trust him (to some extent).

So again, it's bittersweet to think about this list finally coming to an end. It was like a game you had to play and knowing that the end credits were about to roll soon just made you feel odd inside. Yeah, you wanted it to end but as it was actually happening, it was like leaving a chapter of your life behind.

After all, you'll never be able to undo what's been done. You can't go back and change who you've slept with or how.

So, with that final little thought, you sigh again and then shut your journal. Getting up to put it away in its locked drawer compartment, you wonder what it'll be like to finally meet Nanami.

You have a good feeling about him.

And no, not one of those good feelings that result in disaster but, an actual good feeling. Something about the thought of this tall, blonde, and sexy man whose facial expression holds a stupidly attractive seriousness at all times just makes you feel calm.

You feel like you're going to be dealing with someone so mature that it'll ease your mind, kind of like how your mind was at ease when you first met Choso.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

And you had every right to be in good spirits about meeting Nanami because the man did, in fact, turn out to be one of the best and lightest experiences for you.

Despite how difficult he may seem, Nanami is just a man you couldn't catch at the right time. That was the only reason why you ever considered him to be 'hard' to seduce. And no, it's not some magical effect you had that made your efforts work, it was this genuine and raw connection that formed when you met him.

It was surely a night to be remembered.

A simple pair of black heels lightly clacked against the floor as you walked with your head held high into that damned nightclub-- the same nightclub in which you couldn't run into Nanami at the right time for the longest. This night was different though, as you had arrived before him for once.

It wasn't planned or anything but, your arrival to the building was before he'd gotten there. The dress you wore to accompany the heels on your feet was just as simple and was shaded in the same color; black. It was moderately tight-fitting and hugged your body just right.

Unlike some of your past dresses, it didn't make you feel like you were going all out and you thought you blended in nicely with everyone else that was there. Around your neck was that same necklace Gojo gifted to you on Christmas as you never really had the heart to leave home without it on.

Your excuse for wearing it all the time was because it was really pretty. It had nothing to do with Gojo of course. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself anyway.

Making your way to the bar, you took a seat in an area you knew Nanami to typically sit at and then you scouted the area for either him or the cute brown-haired friend he's always with. Finding nothing and no one, you sigh and decide to order a drink.

After which, you gave yourself thirty minutes before you'd leave and try again in another two weeks. You didn't even tell Gojo you were starting back up on the list yet so it's not like there was any pressure for you to seduce Nanami tonight, maybe that's what made everything so different.

Your nails tapped across the bar as you waited and at some point, you even made conversation with the cheeky bartender. The thing about this bartender is that you've seen him talk to Nanami plenty of times and you're pretty sure they're friends.

He had this really cute face and pretty brown eyes that made you feel safe in a strange way. Every time you see him he's got this beanie on top of his head and his clothes are always baggy, something you saw his manager scold him about a few times at one point.

Either way, today was your first time actually talking to him and you learn that his name is Ino Takuma and that he actually recognizes you, having paid attention to the few times you've been there.

"Are you waiting on someone, beautiful?" Ino had questioned you.

Oh yeah, and he's also been complimenting you nonstop from the moment you two began talking. It's in a friendly way, you think. It doesn't seem like he's flirting, just being kind, which you like.

You smiled at the man, "Is it that obvious?"

He makes this silly face in thought and you note how expressive he is. "Hmmmm, I mean for me, yeah. But that's only because I see you come here around the same time every two weeks."

"Yeah?" You meet his eyes with a smile on your face and he holds the eye contact for at least five seconds before he looks away. He's adorable. "So, you've really been paying attention to me all this time?" You ask before going to take another sip of your preferred drink of the night.

Ino laughs and the sound is so joyful it almost heals something in you. "I mean, nooo..." He drags out, smiling through his words before he shrugs, "I pay attention to everyone. And plus, how could I forget a pretty face like yours?"

You're still staring at him and you don't think you've ever paid attention to how much someone avoids eye contact before dealing with Choso. After that man, it's so obvious to you now when someone gets nervous to look you in the eye for too long.

"Is that a compliment, Ino?" You ask softly, the use of his name making his ears flush a cute shade of pink.

He clears his throat and wipes down a part of the nearby counter. There are not that many people at the bar tonight so that gave him the leisure to speak to you. "...Yeah," Ino replies, trying to focus on his small task instead of your eyes gazing at his face.

You hum. "Thank you," You say before moving to rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you rest your elbow on the bar.

Ino finishes his little task and then places the cloth he used elsewhere, finally looking at you now that your eyes have gone elsewhere, "He'll be here soon, by the way."

You blink and your eyes flick up to Ino's face, confused by his words, "Who?"

He flashes that friendly smile at you, "Nanami."

You're not sure if you should pretend not to know who Nanami is or if you should ask how Ino knows you're waiting on the man. For now, you swallow, "Nanami?"

Ino moves his hand up and over his head a bit, "He's like this tall, blonde," The brown-haired male gestures toward his eyes, "Wears these funky glasses sometimes?"

You bat your eyelashes at him in confusion, "Okay... Why uh, why're you telling me he'll be here soon?"

"You know him, don't you?" Ino asks, his thin and well-kept brows furrowing a bit as he innocently tilts his head.

"I know of him, I suppose," You answer vaguely, "But, why'd you think I know him?"

His shoulders raised a bit, "Cause' he asked me about you."

You swallow the sudden nervous lump in your throat, "H-He asked about me? Why? When?"

Ino chuckles at the worry in your face. To him, it just seemed like you were nervous in a shy sort of way, "He just asked me if you came here any other times. Like, times when he's not here."

"Why?" You ask.

"I dunno'," Ino shrugs casually, "I think you caught his attention." He adds on with a little wink.

Your lips pull into a straight line, "I highly doubt that."

"Why? You're pretty," Ino compliments yet again.

"Thanks but I've seen Nanami enough times to know that I have not caught his attention. Trust me, I know how men operate when their attention is caught." You scoff as you glance over to the dance floor and watch some of the people there.

Ino doesn't seem to understand what exactly you mean by that and his brows furrow, "You caught my attention, and yet this is my first time talking to you." He points out.

Almost naturally, as if you'd grown accustomed to flirting, your gaze trails back over to the cute bartender and you smirk, words slipping out of your mouth without thought, "I've caught your attention? How so?" You ask, unintentionally adding a sultriness to your tone.

He gulps and his eyes avoid yours yet again, "I mean you are an attractive woman. S-So I just mean it in that you catch more people's eye than you think. A-And uh, y'know, not everyone's gonna approach you first because sometimes attractive people make others nervous..." He stammers out.

He's so ridiculously nervous and it's the cutest thing. You lift your head from your hand and cross your arms over the counter, leaning forward a little and your chest unknowingly growing more visible as you do so, "Am I making you nervous right now, Ino?" You whisper.

Okay, now you're purposefully teasing him.

He chuckles, kinda awkwardly, "N-No? Pfft... I'm not nervous. Y-You-," He clears his throat, "You're not making me nervous."

You raise but a single brow and keep your gaze on him, "You can't even look me in the eyes while we talk."

Ino suddenly looks at you, meeting your unwavering gaze and sweating a bit. "I'm lookin' at you now."

You stare long and hard, right into those brow irises of his and he tries to stare back but, he can't help but glance to the left or right for a split second before trying to keep his eyes on yours.

A slow and taunting smile spreads across your features, "Barely." You point out.

He rolls his eyes and sighs, "Whatever. I wasn't nervous I'm jus' not good with eye contact."

You tilt your head at him and narrow your eyes, "That's not true."

"Eh?" Ino's brows push together, "How are you gonna' tell me..." He says with a pout.

You giggle, "You manage eye contact with everyone else just fine."

He moves for a nearby empty glass someone's placed down, and glances at you as he does so, "So you've been paying attention to me, then?"

Of course, your eyes have hardly left his. It's fun teasing someone like this, "A bit, yeah."

Ino moves with the empty glass to place it with other dirty ones, humming a little nervously, "Oh..." As he does so. Then, you watch him pick up a clean glass and move to make a new drink right in front of you.

"Is that okay?" You murmur. Your voice has this purposeful flirtiness to it and it does not go unnoticed, "Am I allowed to pay attention to you, Ino?"

He gulps, "Course' you can."

Your eyes drop to the glass in his hands as he pours alcohol into it and you smirk, "Ino..."

His gaze flicks to your face for a moment, "H-Hm?"

"You're shaking." You point out.

Ino nearly fumbles the glass in his hand entirely and you watch him miss the cup for a moment, a bit of the liquid he'd been pouring trickling onto his hand and then the floor, "Shit," He curses.

You chuckle slightly at first, earning a little pouty glare from the man.

Then as he goes to clean up you hear him mumbling to you, "That's not funny..."

Your chuckling proceeds to elevate into genuine laughter, "Yeah it is," You snicker, "You're adorable, holy fuck."

Ino's face is a little red as your words hit his ears and he drops down to clean the mess on the floor. After which, he pops right back into your line of vision, seeing you still laughing at him and pouting yet again.

"I am not 'adorable'," Ino grumbles.

You giggle, "Yes, you are."

He shakes his head and sighs in this sassy kinda way, "Am' not."

"Are too," You argue.

His eyes meet yours and despite being embarrassed, he's got a little smile back on his face, "Nuh-uh."

You nod, “Yuh-huh."

Ino then rolls his eyes, still smiling, before he puts all the items he had in his hands down to the side. You then watch one hand drop down into his pocket before his phone is pulled out. Ino unlocks the device and then places it in front of you, sliding it closer to you with an empty contact slot on the screen.

"Put your number in here," He sighs, smoothly requesting your contact info like it's nothing.

You raise a brow, "Are you asking for it or are you demanding it?"

Those almost innocent brown eyes of his trail over to yours and he holds eye contact for a longer moment, "I'm asking. I like talking to you so, can I get your number?"

"Hmmm..." You hum playfully, purposefully taking your time to answer, "Is this to be friends or something more?"

He's still looking you in the eyes, "Uh, friends? I'm not sure I could even handle a woman like you."

You raise a brow.

"I mean that in a good way," Ino clarifies.

You shrug and move to enter your number in his phone, "Thanks. I was only asking that 'cause I uh..."

He tilts his head and watches your fingers tap across his screen, "...Have a lot going on?"

"Something like that, yeah." You answer before you finish adding your info and then slide the phone back to him.

He picks up his cell and pockets it before shrugging, "I see, well, if this makes you feel any better, I always try to get people's numbers after a nice conversation with them."

You frown playfully, "Aw, so I'm not special?"

Again, he's flustered, "W-Well, I mean you are b-but I just-"

"Ino," You snicker, "I'm just teasing you, relax."

He rolls his eyes again and sighs, "You're driving me crazy."

For one last time, you tilt your head and give him this flirtatious look, "Am I?"

Ino looks at your expression and gulps, "Yes ma'am."

Okay, is it weird that a part of you wishes he was on the list too? Holy shit is teasing this man fun. Even so, you've got enough men to worry about in your life and you don't need to add to that.

You chuckle and your expression returns to something more platonic, "Alright, I'll stop then."

"Please," Ino begs quietly in a joking manner.

That makes you laugh again and this time, he laughs along with you. Then, you watch him go back to preparing that drink from earlier and he does it flawlessly this time, his nerves calmed after you stop all your teasing.

As the drink is finished, you sip on yours and then a pleasant smell slithers into your nose. It's cologne, a strong but ridiculously pleasant scent filling your nostrils. You blink a few times as you take in what you're smelling and for a second, you wonder if it's coming from Ino because he got kinda close as the drink he prepared was placed next to you.

Your question is answered within the next second though because you hear a voice that accompanies the scent. A deep, sexy, and soothing voice that makes your posture straighten due to how surprisingly close to you it is.

Nothing more than a simple, "Thank you," Was voiced but even so, it was extremely attractive.

Then, you curiously turn to where the voice came from, which was to your right, and you're met with your last target; Nanami Kento.

There he was, in the flesh, right next to you. Like, literally sitting in the barstool next to yours. And that drink Ino made? Yeah, it was his. Your eyes were all over the man, drinking in his features shamelessly.

The man seemed to be more muscular than you thought he was as the blue button-up shirt he wore clung to his body so delectably. The sleeves were rolled up near his elbows and you could see how muscular his arm was, veins decorating his skin as they became visible from his elbow and down.

The shirt was just hugging his body and you couldn't help but stare. Then, for a moment you look down at his pants. He wore these khakis that were just as fucking tight as his shirt and you swear you didn't mean to look at his crotch but because of the way he sat it was like your eyes were there before you even rendered it.

God, his pants hugged his thighs and you just drink in the way his hips push up slightly as he adjusts the way he sits. Holy fuck, you had to force your eyes up because you swore you could see his manhood, or at least imagine what he's hiding beneath those clothes of his.

So, your eyes went back up to areas more respectable to look at, such as his shirt, which you noticed he had enough buttons undone to reveal a teasing amount of his chest. His collarbone was so sharp and defined and you could only imagine the rest of his body.

Then, you trailed up just a bit more to his neck, then his jaw which was sharp as fuck, to his defined cheekbones, and then his eyes-

And shit.

He was already looking at you.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[velvetvexations]

The fact that Junior Year didn't at all challenge the way ANY system is set up is insane to me.

In the first half of the season I kept telling people the solution to Adaine's money problems wouldn't be Fabian buying her shit for her, because Brennan - DECOLONIAL PHILOSOPHER THAT HE IS - would never construct a scenario in which the solution to a ruinous lack of funds would be to get your rich friend to pay it off for you. This was just the foundation of my argument that Fabian literally, in-universe, did not have access to enough money to do that, because BLeeM usually plugs those holes and that seemed to be essentially the point of kicking Hilarial and Gilear off-screen for most of the season, but put that aside. The point is, it was clearly a critique of the system.

Right?

Because I assumed the solution would in some way be either changing the system or breaking free of it. Part of Adaine's problem is capitalism in general, but most immediately it's the financial demands the school system makes of her.

And then...the solution is not that. The solution is that she yells at her bosses to start paying her for being the Oracle, and Fabian beats someone in a dance contest so they do it. Problem solved. It's fine that Aguefort, which prides itself to an insane degree about what an anarchic madhouse it is for all the real freaks who want to just reach out and take life by the horns, requires you buy literal barrels of diamonds to be a wizard. That's fine.

The problem was that Adaine didn't have a fortune, not that she needed a fortune in the first place.

And it's wild because exactly that's something I liked about A Starstruck Odyssey. Obviously, Starstruck is an existing IP, and there wasn't a lot of room to just revolutionize galactic society overnight, but thematically it only enhanced the season's thrust to have everyone's problems be tied to money and for them to get past them by inventively striking a fortune. It was essentially taking this mildly grimdark capitalist hellhole and being like "okay, we'll play by your rules, assholes" and by the end it felt like there was a heavy tone of irony to the celebration of The Ball Rolling Up. Like you were meant to notice and be aware that the crew of the Wurst basking in their newfound riches was good for them personally but also a fucked-up reflection on how the setting operates.

And there was little tiny baby steps towards acknowledgement of systemic issues in JY that seemed promising, but all ultimately fizzled out.

Fig being overwhelmed by her responsibilities as a working musician and owner of a part of Hell? She orders her demonic underlings and indentured souls to help her put on a hella sweet concert and she goes quintuple platinum and her old agent is totally seething.

Gorgug is being failed by an educational structure that won't allow and doesn't even want him to succeed in the way he aspires to? Zac rolls insanely well so no he isn't, he's doing great, everyone should take four times the coursework.

Riz has to do a ton of shit to get into college because as a poor person he has to run to where others walk? Jokes are occasionally made about him being in a lot of clubs but that's never once examined or otherwise touched on between the the third and final episode, with the resolution in the epilogue being his mom going "hey kiddo wherever you end up you'll do great, just as long as you get enough sleep and take regular breaks to eat ice cream!".

Fabian trying to live up to the pressure of his legacy and maintaining his social status at school? Bill has a genuinely moving conversation with Fabian in the finale, indisputably one of the highlights of the season and a moment that in spite of everything I found incredibly powerful, where he tells him that he would love him even if he weren't a Maximum Legend, but it ends on "maybe we can have both" because as Brennan himself noted Lou was rolling so well that it was actively strangling the theme of his arc so that it ended up just being Fabian occasionally feeling a bit frustrated about the pressure while effortlessly succeeding to the point that not even Fig's catastrophic bardic put a dent in his popularity, but not enough for it to be a full case of tragic imposter syndrome.

Kristen failing cleric class? Kristen deserved to fail cleric class.

The issues with Fabian and Gorgug's arc was just luck and a flaw in the downtime mechanic. The others went deeper and man I really wish more had been done there.

[butmakeitgayblog]

I shouldn’t speak on anyone else’s behalf, but I’d like to hear about the new angsty not-fake-dating au idea please

Ok 👀

Gonna preface this by saying Clarke's overall character in the first half is... questionable. But listen just, set that aside for a minute and think of Clexa and also endgame 😅

So I was thinking something along the lines of Lexa gets recruited by a friend of a friend of a friend/distant classmate/ad in the college paper? Idk, whatever. But anyway, someone she's not at all close with or really has any ties to, and she's basically hired to pretend to be this girl's girlfriend for a group vacation her and her friends are going on (She's a nice girl, but a lonely gay/bi in a group of party girls/ habitually dating girls who always have Someone™ dangling off their arm, but this girl does not. Always looked over, the eternally single friend, etc. You get the gist.) And Lexa's hot. And kind of intimidating. Has that whole smokey eyed badass, femme fatale aura about her. It's... a reach, but also kind of perfect because it'll make this girl look fantastic to her friends in the street cred department and also possibly give her confidence the little boost that it needed. And considering Lexa grew up the only gay in her town, and didn't grow into her very gangly and awkward body until senior year of high school, she gets what it's like to always be the one passed up. Plus she could use the cash. So she's more than down for this. Everything's great, right? Right.

Except for the fact that one of said girls on the trip is in fact, Clarke. Who does have her own date. Now, I can't quite decide if Clarke would know about the arrangement or not, but regardless, Clarke has always been the main one in the group who is this girl's cheerleader. Very "you're better than how you treat yourself. You deserve everything, and it's not fair that people don't see it. The right person will fall in love with you in an instant, believe me. You're worth it." Very that supportive friend. She's ride or die until the end.

Now, Lexa's technically "on the clock" so to speak the entire trip, which means she is laying on the charm thiccc af. It's not exactly a stretch by any means because she is naturally a doting girlfriend in relationships (when she has one), but ya know, she's giving this girl her money's worth. She wants her feel like a princess for the entire trip. Yes it's a job, but it's also nice just making a girl feel special when she's not used to it.

The only problem is... Clarke is also seeing all of this. All of Lexa's sweetness and all of her thoughtful actions. Her attentiveness and her softness beneath the edgy exterior. The little presents Lexa surpises her friend with, the way she remembers her friend's little quirks. Always remembering her food preferences, her favorite drinks. Lexa's got this girlfriend thing down to a science. She's just so goddamn thoughtful and charming to boot. And also hot. Can't forget hot. Like really, unfairly hot. But mostly it's the way she's so gentle and sweet.

The other issue is, Lexa sees that in Clarke too. She sees that out of everyone, Clarke is pretty much the only one who actually treats this girl with kindness and respect. Never talking down to her or placating her, never just treating her like an afterthought. Clarke is so damn sweet and thoughtful, beautiful and fiery sometimes to a fault. She's funny, and warm, and just... the entire package. She understands why Clarke is never single.

But. It quickly becomes A Problem™. Because it's in the moments that Lexa is trying very hard to just focus on her "job" that she constantly finds herself in Clarke's orbit. In the mornings when she's up early making ~her girl~ her fancy coffee, late at night when she's tinkering around in the kitchen making her a lil snackie snack so they can watch a movie before bed. Those stolen interacting becomes moments of them just talking, Clarke on the counter as they chat while Lexa feels her eyes on everything she does. Them lounging by the pool while the others run into town for supplies. Dinners out with Clarke sat close on one side,,, while the girl sits on the other.

And there's flirting. Way too much flirting whenever they're in private. Effortless flirting that Lexa isn't really aware of until it smacks her in the face that they're both just idiots smiling. But it's all very cloaked in joking and throwaway moments because, technically, they're both supposed to be attached.

And as most things are, everything is fine. Until it's not.

The whole situation comes to a boiling point when they just get lost in one of those moments. A night of too many drinks and way too much flirting, finding themselves entirely too close in their villa's bathroom. It feels dangerously like the period on the end of a sentence that was written the second they'd layed eyes on each other. Before they realize what they're doing, Lexa's hoisted Clarke up onto the bathroom counter, her fingers pumping between Clarke's legs. It's a heated rush of moans and licks to sex-sweetened skin, both grabbing at each other through messy kisses meant to leave bruises. Both way too far gone into the release of all the tension to realize that... Clarke's being kind of loud...

It's a fucking catastrophe after that because yeah, well, Clarke definitely just cheated. In front of everyone. Including her "boyfriend". Though granted she'd only been seeing the guy for like a month so it's... it's not as earth shattering for her as it could be. But the real issue, the real vomit inducing kick in the moral gut is that she's just ruined the entire facade for het friend. Made her a look fool in front of everyone. Basically fucked the entire thing up for this girl who had only wanted to feel like she fit in. Just once. It honestly makes her feel awful. It's not like she just accepts it and feels ok with it, she is thoroughly disgusted with herself.

Obviously Lexa returns the money, letting herself be branded a homewrecker and cheater rather than embarrassing this girl further with exposing the truth that they were never actually together. She can carry that stigma as long as it means she's not doing anything to hurt this girl worse. She's caused enough problems as it is.

In the end everyone goes home. Pissed off or hurt or with a new bit of gossip to tell. Clexa going their own separate ways, without a single other word to each other.

The girl never talks to Clarke again when they get home and despite Clarke's efforts to try and make amends, she doesn't blame her. It was the single worst fuck up she'd ever made in her life. Which is why she takes the time to stop dating altogether and start really working on herself. Because she didn't like the version of herself who would do something like that to anyone, much less her friend. Feelings or not. Tipsy or not.

Lexa also never hears from the friend again, though that is not even remotely a surprise after everything. But she still wishes she could have done something to make things right. Some gesture or, or... something to fix what she'd fucked up so royally. It's a guilt she carries with her for a long, long while.

Eventually though, a few years down the line when it's more just a distant memory that still stings but doesn't burn quite as bad as it used to, the friend reaches out to Clarke in the form of a very opulent and beautiful wedding invitation that says she's... getting married to the guy Clarke cheated on that weekend. Clarke doesn't want to go, at all, but kind of feels obligated because not only is this the first olive branch she's ever gotten from her old friend, but also like,,, tf??? You're marrying that guy?!??! What the hell happenesd??? So she's gotta go. She has to, just to make the final amends for what she did.

Which works out well because the girl is all smiles and that bubbly laughter that comes from real, true happiness. She seems so easy and free when she tells Clarke that she is total over it. That they'd found the love that they'd been searching for in each other while commiserating through the pain of that trip. "Eh. Burnt toast theory and all that," is how she puts it with a lift of her champagne in response to Clarke's very thought-out apology.

So it's good. It's not great, and it doesn't make up for what Clarke did, but at least she now knows that her friend is at peace with what happened.

And then aND THEN Clarke catches a glimpse of Lexa at one of the tables across the room. Looking awkward and unsure and still disrespectfully hot in her formal wedding attire. And her friend, in all of her wedded blissed out glory, is like "Oh right. So. Speaking of blasts from the past. I invited another old friend... You should go say hi."

With the bride's blessing, she does exactly that despite her absolute terror at the prospect of seeing Lexa again. They have drinks and reminisce over wedding cake about that fucking shitshow of a vacation, catching each other up on where they are in their lives now and how they've been. They talk about how stupid they were. How awful and, honestly, immature. But through their embarrassed commiseration and disgust with their past selves, they both carefully (and not so carefully) toe around the subject that while they both do regret the way it happened... neither actually regret that it did. Because the sex had meant something. Because the feelings were entirely real. Those late night talks and time spent together still mean something today. Even through the messiness and the people hurt in the aftermath, the connection had been real, and in the end it had always sort of felt like the other was 'the one who got away'. So, drinks turn into dancing, which turns into Lexa catching a ride home with Clarke in a designated cab. And before either of them know what's happening, it's Clarke that Lexa is making breakfast for in bed 👀

[allwormdiet]

Agitation 3.1

Got waylaid by work and brain weather, but we're back to it. Let's see how Taylor's life is going

Her routine has come up before, but it bears saying that I think Taylor's actual superpower might just be that she's a morning person who can hold herself to accomplish daily goals, like goddamn girl

The constant, casual cruelty that makes up so much of Taylor's history is equal parts saddening and infuriating. I'm sure we'll get an explanation for why the bullies do this to her, I think I've said as much in previous posts, but also as mentioned in previous posts I find it aggravating to endure.

...I don't know if this is quite the right place in my reading to speculate on it, but I'm not sure if Taylor even has a shot at university at this point, even setting aside the cape thing. The bullies are all in her year, which means they'd never be separated from her by graduation. Their constant sabotage and harassment would mean her grades are low, so even if she gets into a college with whatever GPA she can bodge together (and no extracurriculars to pad her application out), she's probably not going to earn any scholarships and money's already pretty tight for the Heberts. That means student loans, and probably shit rates considering the world they're in.

Maybe this is my bitter ass reflecting on how the greatest benefits I got out of going to college were completely incidental to the courses I took or the degree I earned, but... Taylor, I know college meant a lot to your mom, I just don't think that path is nearly as open to you as it used to be. I think it's fine to just learn a trade, and I think it's fine if the trade is armed robbery.

So you're telling me Taylor's self-image used to be worse? Jeeesus

I like that Brian knows how to blend into an environment as the situation calls for it. That speaks to a pretty keen observational ability, and also is maybe tied to his need to act more grown-up than he is. And now I'm sad again.

"I want" is cute, embarrassment is for suckers (I say, easily embarrassed)

I don't even like coffee, but a fifteen dollar coffee had better be the best coffee you've ever had, oh my god

And honestly that must have been weird for every member of the team, just suddenly having money not be a problem anymore. Taylor's holding out for now, although I suspect it won't be that way forever, and everyone else either wants or needs it bad enough for their own ends that I don't think they're gonna think about it too hard (except for Lisa, who has the full context and whose power is thinking too hard)

Taylor please don't undersell your injuries to your teammates, I don't like you doing it with your dad but I understand it. Here though? Come onnnnn

Yeah there we go

Violence is an easy language to understand. Cruel, obviously, and painful, but if Rachel is already struggling with other people's words and feelings (five bucks says she's autistic tbh) then getting the shit kicked out of her is probably a better sell on the new recruit than any pretty speech

...Ideally they move past that pretty quick so words can be used again

Also poor Rachel, for real. Ten years in the system and then whatever it was that triggered her powers, which is obviously never good. No wonder she came out the other end more willing to trust dogs than people.

Ugh, my heart

Is she showing off for the guy she's crushing on? That's adorable

Curious that the limits of her power seem to be based on complexity of the brain. I assume there has to be a brain at all or else she could just shoot germs at people, although that'd also be a little bit inefficient as a power unless she started getting into disease warfare and holy shit this would be a very different story if Taylor could give people smallpox

Gotta be a weird day for the crab though

Couple things here

Brian you're not even eighteen yet as far as I know, what the hell

Of course Lisa cheated, she's built to cheat, at that point I'm not sure it even counts as cheating

Knowing what I know about Alec, somehow I doubt he was ever in school to drop out in the first place

...on the flipside I'm a little surprised that Rachel never went during her time in the system, you'd figure that'd be a condition of her fostering but either the guardians didn't give a shit or she fought her way out of ever actually attending

Also, I know it's a matter of course that she'd have a key to the base, but it's sweet all the same

It's nice of Brian to make this offer, although I'm willing to bet it's because he's the only Undersider who would get up before 6 AM. It's also a pretty smart call to keep her up to date this way

Also very funny that Taylor is like "Oh I like Lisa just fine but she scares the shit out of me"

...Also also, for real, Lisa has to already know what's going on with Taylor right? There's no way Taylor's good enough at lying to bury that one.

Girl I'm dreading it and I'm just reading about it

This is just. So goddamn sad. And maddening, to boot.

Gee Taylor you sure to seem to spend a fair amount of time thinking about the comparative attractiveness of other women

Agonizing, though, for real. Wildbow has knocked every school scene out of the park and I hate it.

I wonder if Taylor's gonna even bother coming back to school at this point. First day she left mid lunch, second day she left right after lunch started, here she's splitting before first period. As much as she clings to this side of her life... I don't know if it's any healthier than full-time villainy.

Go blow off steam with your new friends Taylor

Current Thoughts

I actually don't have any real expectations for this arc going into it. Obviously Arc 1 is the start of... I mean kind of everything, and Arc 2 is made up of the immediate aftermath from those events. This one? I dunno. I was a little worried I'd have to deal with another chapter of Winslow, but it looks like Taylor decided she was sick of that shit

I like Brian, but I think mostly I'm worried for him? This is a lot of effort so far made to seem mature and normal, and I don't know if that's possible for a teenager who goes out to be a supervillain. It's admirable in a sense, but I'm worried about how fragile it leaves him.

I don't love that Rachel seems satisfied by an exchange of violence but that's more bc I don't want these kids beating the shit out of each other, not any kind of "this is bad actually" sense.

Other than that I'm mostly just curious what the rest of this arc looks like. Thank fuck it's not more high school.

Oh, yeah, I'm gonna try and read more at work today, I might take my screenshots then and see if they drive me up a wall, but even if so I'll just retake them when I get home. Fingers crossed work is slow enough for it.

[innytoes]

When a Soulmate Goose showed up, Alex didn't say anything. Well, that's not true. He said 'aaaargh' and 'oh got stop hissing at me!' and several other things. But when his parents handed him the keys to his older sister's car (the one she abandoned when she left for college, swearing to never return to their 'backward, podunk little town'), he didn't argue when they said something like 'go get your girl'.

Instead, he hastily packed a bag, grabbing the tote bag full of snacks his mother prepared for him and a wad of cash his father handed him, and set off, only swerving a little bit when he realised the goose - which he had definitely not let into the car - was in the back seat already.

Because Alex knew, just like his sister knew when she got her scholarship, that this was his chance to get out. Get out of their small town, with its prying eyes and judgemental stares. Get out before he could stop finding excuses why he didn't want to date the pastor's daughter, she has her eye on you Alex, and she's Good People. Get out before he had to come out, would be cast out.

So angry hissing waterfowl aside, he was actually pretty relieved. Even though the drive was a lot longer than he expected. Even though he had to sleep in the parking lot of a motel more than once because they didn't allow geese -soulmate enforcers or not - into the rooms. At least Geraldine was a pretty good deterrent from being robbed.

They worked out a system. Geraldine wouldn't bite him if he fed her parts of his meals and snacks. She's honk when he needed to take an exit, but wouldn't flap her wings at him while he was driving, after he nearly ran off the road. She let him take breaks and pit stops as long as he kept going in the direction she wanted to. And honestly, she liked Whitney Houston just as much as he did, and was a pretty good listener.

He was a little surprised they ended up in LA. He'd imagined going to a big city, but not like, one of The Big Cities. He gaped at the Hollywood sign until Geraldine did nip his ankles, and he started walking again. And walking. He got chased on a bus, their previous pact of food-for-civility apparently broken, but the bus driver was kind enough to just laugh at him and let him take a seat when he didn't have enough money or any idea where he was going. (Maybe Geraldine knew what she was doing.)

They ended up at the beach. He'd never seen the beach before, but Geraldine didn't let him enjoy it. Not like the other views. Instead, she herded him along the board walk, towards a skate park, and right into the path of a guy holding a small bouquet of pink and blue flowers.

"No way," the boy said, as Geraldine happily sat on top of his skateboard as they untangled. "The carnival fortune teller was totally right. I did fall for a beautiful blond fairytale prince today at sunset. You even have an animal sidekick."

"Oh you fell, alright," Alex snapped, before realising what the guy had said. He wanted to say something else, but then the boy took off his helmet, and a wave of beautiful long hair spilled out, and his entire brain blue screened.

Geraldine honked smugly, just once, before disappearing in a flash of green. He didn't even get a chance to thank her, but he was pretty sure she knew anyway.

[whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer]

My thoughts on Smallville 1x08 “Jitters.”

Confession: I watched this episode the other night.  I’m watching it again because I enjoyed it so much. Okay, now that I’ve said that onto the episode. 

I drag on the Smallville writers (for context I’ve been ranting about the show on several discord servers I’m on) but I want to compliment here in these opening scenes. The writers are showing the Kents are poor instead of simply telling it or simply having Lex offer a loan one episode and then never showing the Kents financial issues again. We actually get to see how oh, Kents don’t have money to spare. We see this in how Johnthan fixes the truck himself instead of going to an auto mechanic. We see this in how Martha is going to handle a plumbing issue herself instead of calling a plumber. 

A small detail I like that makes this house feel lived in is how there's several cabinet doors left open that we can see behind Clark when he’s opening the fridge. I have a habit of opening cabinets, grabbing what I need, and completely forgetting to close them until a minute or more has passed. And then it’s ‘oh shit, I’ve got to close that.’ 

Also is it just an universal farmer thing for farmers to own a truck with a toolbox on the back? Because my great grandfather was a farmer and he had a truck with a toolbox in the back just like how Johnthan does. 

Jonathan: “I’m definitely raising your allowance.” 

Some thoughts here. 1.) Clark probably isn’t going to get that allowance raise after the party. 2.) We know Clark does the work of several farm hands - even though he’s juggling school - because this is mentioned in the episode the Kents needed a loan so my question is where does that saved money go? Is it given to Clark’s allowance? Is money the Kents keep to pay for stuff they need? Is it set aside for Clark’s college fund or for his first car? Looking back knowing what I do now…. Jonathan probably should have let Clark keep that truck. The Kents can’t afford a new car for their son and even if they go with an older car they’re still going to have to pay for repairs unless the used car is still in dealership warranty. But Jonathan was too prejudiced to accept it because of who Lex’s father was. I could understand vetoing the truck if Lionel was the one who gave it but it was Lex. I just **shrugs** I’ve got thoughts on Jonathan - I like him but he frustrates me - and I don’t know how to convey them so moving on. 

Clark”....It’s a couple nights at Metropolis-”

That party of Clark’s was selfish. I understand that the Kents had to return early because of the plot but the in-universe reason they came back early is because they called several times the night of the party. Clark never answered but other people - people who told the Kents they didn’t know Clark - did. They left their trip after one day. I've got mixed feelings about this. Cause on one hand they deserve to celebrate their anniversary but at the same time they have to spend several hundreds of dollars on this trip because they’re staying at a hotel for several days and meals. That’s not counting any activities like going to movies, going to see a play, going shopping, or whatever. And it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth because what two episodes ago they were talking about a bad loan Jonathan accepted. I just they should spend money on themselves but at the same they were going to spend a pretty penny on this trip before they came back earlier. 

Is Earl going to hold a bunch of teenagers and a man hostage this episode? Yes. Do I want to hug him? Also yes. So far Earl and Jodi are the only villain of the week characters I have empathy for. I was really happy last night to learn Lex is getting him medical help. Until canon states otherwise I’m going to hope Earl eventually gets to live with his family. 

Janitor dude: “Earl see that's the talk that got yourself canned. Now, if you got as problem get some help.” 

Dude. With what health insurance?! This is America. Also those doctors likely can’t do shit because they don’t know what caused the issue. There is also the fact that meteor rocks are volatile. There are no rules and regulations on how it is handled. And like most rules and regulations they’re gonna be written in blood. 

Sidenote: I like how it’s established that Earl has a family. If he dies then not only does his wife lose her spouse but she will be a single mother. Earl is fighting to get answers so he can be in his wife and child’s lives. Also I wonder if meteor mutation can be passed onto children. I know Earl’s kid is too old for this to happen but I wonder about this in general. 

I’ve ranted about this multiple times but whoever worked in costume and design in this show deserves a fucking raise. Why? Because they are telling us the Kents aren’t well off with money. Clark is constantly wearing the same articles of clothing throughout the show instead of a new piece every time we see him. This book bag in this scene looks like the same bookbag from earlier this season. (Martha - she’s not in this scene but I’m bringing her because I’m talking about the costume and design team being great - often wears the same grey coat.) Chloe and Lana meanwhile have a wider selection of outfits. Lex meanwhile - I’m not even going to talk about colors yet - has driving gloves. It’s such a small detail but it says a lot. It says Lex has money to spend because most people don’t own driving gloves. Driving gloves aren’t needed in this time period the way they were in the past because of early steering wheels. Driving gloves are not a necessity nor are they common. Yet Lex spent money on them which shows he has money to spend on his interests in sports cars. Also Lex is often seen wearing purple. Purple is a color associated with royalty and wealth. Fun fact: there was a time where only Roman emperors could wear Tyrian purple. 

Okay back to the show. Who invited all these people? I know Clark didn’t. Maybe Lex? I know Lex is behind the fireworks. 

Lana has this thing of politely calling out implications of her love life and it’s so funny to me. I did not remember this trait of hers from when I watched the show as a kid. I do wonder why Lana abruptly stopped wearing her necklace. 

I know the show is trying to set us up to like Lana/Clark but I don’t like the pairing already. Lana is painted as this nice girl - she’s friends with non popular kids (nevermind we’re just told this instead of actually seeing Lana and future villains of the week hanging out in the background before the x villain of the week episode), she’s interested in breaking apart from the expectations people have of her, she’s against academic cheating, she’s willing to tutor people for free, and so on. The thing is. She is one of the two characters outside of Clark and football players who know Whitney kidnapped Clark, stripped him, and tied him up in a pole where Clark stayed for hours. And she’s still with this guy. I just. I admit I ship Clex and those two are going to be a mess as the show progresses but the thing is Lex calls out Clark’s bullshit (which I don’t always think all of Clark’s bullshit is actually bullshit but that’s not the point). Clark calls out Lex’s bullshit (which again I don’t think Lex’s bullshit is actually bullshit but again not the point). It feels more even because they are critical of each other. Where as Clark never has a moment of ‘Lana knows what her boyfriend did to me and she’s still in a romantic relationship with him despite calling me her friend. Do I really want to be with her?’ I feel like Clark and the show itself puts Lana on a pedestal. I hope that the shows allows these two characters to be critical of each other since they’re eventually going to be canon relationship.

Chloe:”It’s a class field trip.” 

Lex: “What did you do wrong?” 

Kid me did not understand Lex was the funniest character on the show. (Clark is the second funniest btw.) 

Lex has a type and it’s brunettes. This lady, Victoria, Desiree, Helen, and Lana. If Lionel’s goon - I feel like his name starts with d but I’m not sure - from an earlier episode has the same hair color as his sister then her too because the goon had brown hair. 

Also I like how the plumbing issue from earlier is brought up again. 

Clark: “I’m officially dead” 

Lol. Clark you’ve been dead. 

I love that we’re getting background on Martha. Johnthan is so enamored by his wife. 

Lana: “It was kind of last minute. I didn’t realize I needed your permission.” 

I get mixed feelings about these two. (Sidenote: I respect Whitney asking Lana to come outside instead of arguing in front of everyone.) Because on one hand Lana has a right to hang out with her friends without inherently telling her boyfriend. On the other hand Lana has a history of not telling Whitney she’s hanging out with Clark - a previous occasion being a limo ride to a concert in the city. Lana is aware Clark has feelings for her. She is aware Lex - a friend of Clark - keeps trying to pouch them together. Lana has admitted she’s defended that  limo event with Clark to her aunt. Whitney is not being paranoid. I can understand why he doesn’t like this. 

Whitney: “So you sneak off to a party without me?” 

Lana: “I didn’t sneak off - I walked.” 

I don’t even fucking like Whitney but I’m on his side on this. Lana was being sneaky by not telling him. 

Lana: “I’m starting to get the feeling you don’t trust me.” 

I mean you didn’t tell him about the limo even until you thought Clark ditched you. 

I find interesting in this episode Whitney relies or tries to rely on Clark twice in regards to handling potential threats. 

Chloe: “This guy should be in a detox center.” 

Chloe there are multiple reasons why he could be having body tremors even without taking into consideration this is smallville. 

Chloe: “Then why was he shaking like a junkie?” 

Was Chloe’s mom a drug addict? From what I remember Gabe is single handedly raising her. 

Clark: “I kept snapping the guitar strings. I think Earl got sick of replacing them.” 

But he replaced them more than once. He still tried to teach Clark even though Clark broke strings of the instrument. I just find this moment says a lot about Clark and Earl. I wish we could see these two interacting outside of this episode. 

Clark: “He was like family.” 

I want to hug him. 

Clark call a lawyer damn it. Preferably one who does a contingent fee basis work or someone Lex would recommend. 

I’m surprised no one tried to get medical staff to look over Clark after he went through that glass. 

Whoever decided to have Kent parents watch Clark clean and then clap is a comedic genius. Also Clark honey why would you not shut and lock the door before using your super speed? 

I’ve complained about how the writers don’t show Clark having empathy before but they did it right here. Clark spent all night at that hospital because of Earl even though he had a house to clean. 

Doctor: “I pulled the plant’s safety records. I checked with OSHA and the EPA.” 

Ma’am. How did you get all of that so soon? 

I know there are cameras in this building. How come no one notices Clark super speeding? I can begrudgingly suspend my suspension of belief that Lex doesn’t have cameras at home - I still need to know what happened to the guy that froze in the pond in Lex’s backyard - but we see cameras in this building. You mean to tell me that Lionel nor Lex wasn’t curious about how Clark was already away from the group and running around unsupervised. Like even without a hostage situation I feel like someone would check the cameras on just Clark wandering around by himself.  

Once again Martha is wearing that grey coat. I love the costume and design crew on this show. 

How the fuck did no one notice Clark speeding around? 

Clark, you have x ray vision. 

Earl: “Just like everybody else.” 

I’m gonna defend Clark here. He’s the only person willing to investigate Level Three even though Jonathan had also interacted with Earl. Jonathan who constantly is suspicious of Luthors (I think in the Bug Boy episode he makes a comment about the Luthor plant infecting people) isn’t willing to look into this. Clark, who is friends with Lex, was willing to investigate even though it could potentially cause an issue between him and Lex. He was willing to hear Earl out and search for Level Three even before there were hostages involved. (Side note: moments like this I can see why Clark grew up and became a reporter. Though I hope to see Clark taking an interest in the school newspaper in this or the next seasons.) That said, I can understand why Earl made this comment. He’s been gaslighted about Level Three. He is also being told that level doesn’t exist because there are people who genuinely don’t know about Level Three is a thing. He’s being treated like he’s crazy even though he’s having these powerful body tremors from the incident in Level Three. I can understand why he’s pissed off at Clark but Clark is genuinely trying to help him. 

Lionel: “How did you allow this to happen?”

Lionel has a brilliant actor. Lionel is a nasty, intelligent villain which I like because I don’t tend to enjoy dumb ones. That said, this character makes me furious. Gee, asshole. Maybe if Lex was given a warning he could have been better equipped to prevent this. 

Lionel: “Lex! How did you allow this to happen?” 

Lex: “I didn’t allow anything.” 

Lionel: “Then how did this man get inside?” 

Lex: “I think-” 

Lionel: “You think? Why don’t you know Lex!” 

Lionel is one of those parents who even if you have a justified reason why x happened it doesn’t matter. Lionel isn’t asking how this happened out of genuine interest of knowing. He asked so he can lecture. If he truly cared he would allow Lex to continue speaking after Lex said “I didn’t allow anything” and wouldn’t interrupt Lex when he’s saying “I think.” Also I love how Lex’s actor plays this scene because at one point when Lionel is yelling at him Lex lowers his head. Lowering your head like that is usually a sign of submission but also it could mean you feel threatened and you’re protecting your throat. The first one is common but I’m not throwing out the latter because I remember from when I watched the show as a kid that Lionel was physically abusive to Lex. 

Lex’s expression at Lionel offering his hand to Johnthan makes me curious. Is Lex wary of his father knowing the Kents? Does he find it weird that Lionel is offering to shake hands with Johnthan? 

Lionel: “Of course it is.” 

I love Lionel’s actor. Lionel has interrupted Lex throughout this scene but Lex asking about Level Three isn’t interrupted nor is Lex lectured for even entertaining the “deluded” theory that the man holding teenagers and a Luthor employee as hostages believes in. There’s even these few seconds where Lionel doesn’t answer. And it’s so telling. 

Martha: “What about the kids? You need to get on the phone and talk to him!” 

I wonder when Lionel will start to be attracted to Martha. 

Lionel: “But…I do not negotiate with terrorists.” 

Negotiate being the key word. I wonder if Lex picked up on this. I do think he picked up Lionel’s response earlier as off. 

This episode is heartbreaking because in another universe Lex could have been a hero. I don’t think he’ll necessarily have the drive to go be a vigilante but I think Lex could have been a damn good hero if he decided to be. Now would he be a manipulative one? Absolutely. But **gestures at Batman** 

Lex **insert handshake emoji** me. We both don’t like being abruptly touched by family. 

I wish that Clark would hear this speech and think about it later when Lex is being hugged by his dad and is staring at the Kents in yearning. Clark is a teenager - who has a lot of weight on his shoulders - but I just wish that he recognized Lionel was abusive to Lex. A lot of the fandom blames Clark for Lex’s downfall. I however have a different opinion. Lionel is the main person outside of Lex to be blamed. I know what it’s like to be raised in an abusive environment and growing up in an abusive household may explain things but there comes a time where we are all responsible for our own decisions. Lex is responsible for his actions but if we are going to put blame on another character for the path Lex goes down I say Lionel is to blame. I think Clark played a role - though I’ve got opinions on this topic I’m not going to ramble about it just yet because I need to hurry up and finish this but I will be ranting about my mixed feelings later - but Lionel was abusive shit. 

Lex: “Yeah, it’s in his imagination. There is no Level Three Clark. Now get out of here.” 

The acting in this episode is phenomenal. I like how Clark is showing signs of feeling unwell as Earl draws near. There’s no physical signs of meteor poisoning - aka the green veins - or music to convey the meteor is affecting Clark but Clark’s actor is doing his part to convey Earl getting closer to him makes him sick. Also does Lex genuinely believe that or did he notice how off Lionel was acting but doesn’t have actual proof of Level Three nor does he have time to truly look for it with Earl so he’s just letting Clark believe there never was a chance for Lex to be saved? Lex is just one of those characters where I’m sometimes never sure what he’s actually thinking. And honestly it’s nice because I often can figure out what characters’ motivations are in situations. 

How the fuck does no one notice Clark using his super speed on the cameras. 

I want to hug Pete. Poor kid is blaming himself. 

God I love the Kents pretending they have no idea what’s going on. 

Lex must be so curious. Because not only did Clark magically find Level Three - somehow the wall covering the elevator has been smashed. I feel like the wall being smashed would be less interesting to Lex - he already suspects Clark is stronger than natural - than how Clark somehow managed to find it. 

Lex probably is hating his dad right now. Which is completely valid. 

Earl: “How am I going to get better if I don’t know what’s poisoning me?” 

I’m so tempted to write a fic where Clark reveals the meteor rock is what is harming Earl. We know Clark sees Earl like family - Clark has said this but he’s also shown it in his actions - but he’s not willing to tell Earl the truth. Also I wonder if Earl will go the same hospital Amy Adam’s character went to…

I find it interesting that Lex - who is in a hostage situation - is taking time to tell Clark he didn’t know about this place. His life is in the balance and he doesn’t want Clark to think he lied to him. Lex doesn’t even know Clark is close to Earl to the point he considers the man family - he only knows Earl used to work on the farm. Yet he doesn’t want Clark thinking he lied. 

Earl: “He’s lying. He's just like his father.” 

I don’t drink but I want to say if I took a shot every time a character said Lex was just like Lionel I would probably have liver poisoning before the season ends. 

Clark: “...I don’t know. Adrenaline, I guess.” 

Okay, so here's the thing. I’ve read fics where this line is mentioned in a negative light either because it’s a bad lie or it was bad of Clark to lie. I don’t think Clark is lying though. I think Clark went through an episode of hysterical strength. There are times where humans have abnormal strength for a period of time in order to save someone’s life - there was a case in like 1980s I believe where a mom lifted a car that had fallen on her son. Anyway, throughout this episode we’ve seen Clark become sick when near Earl. It is so bad that Clark would not agree to help Whitney attempt to attack Earl. Yet when Clark’s friend and someone he considers as family have their lives in danger Clarkl manages to find the strength to pull them up. So I don’t think Clark is actually lying. 

Ledx staring at Kents being happy Clark is safe - that they’re giving him a hug because they actually want to instead of for publicity - makes me want to cry. Also another reason this scene is sad is Lionel grabbed Lex by the arm earlier and Lex told his dad to never do that again. And Lionel here is hugging Lex - which is much more contact than grabbing an arm - for publicity reasons instead of respecting Lex’s wishes. I also think Lionel hugs Lex to prevent Lex from declaring anything else in front of the press that Lionel doesn’t want. 

This episode is my favorite episode so far. I feel like it’s going to be a favorite even after I’ve rewatched multiple seasons. 

[frodothefair]

You know what I absolutely love about being where I am in my career?

I can consider myself to have "arrived." I can stop striving to do extra sh-t no one cares for simply for the line in my resume, simply so I could get to the next stage.

I suspect this might not be the case in other countries, but when I entered high school at fourteen years of age, I was quickly made to understand that if I wanted to get into a good college, it was not enough to simply do my schoolwork and do it well. Even if I took all the advanced classes and aced every standardized test. I had to do "extracurriculars." I need to have "leadership." I needed good recommendations. Extracurriculars could be anything from sports, to music, to art, to clubs such as debate and newspaper, and ideally, it was not enough to simply be a part of them. It was best if I was a leader, if I took part in competitions, if there was a tangible product I could show off, an outcome I could discuss in my personal statement and in interviews, which were a common part of the college application process.

(Frankly, as an aside I think this ridiculous attempt at evaluating the "whole person" is a bald-faced racket that privileges the already privileged, but that's a story for another day. By the way, if you have a job in high school to pay the bills, such as waitressing or cashiering, no one is going to be impressed with that. If has to be some sort of unusual job that proves how much of a go-getter you are, but was probably given to you through connections. And sports/music/clubs cost money and time you're never compensated for).

Well, it took me less than two years to realize I wanted to do exactly none of any of the above. I was a good student, and I was happy to give it my all academically, but all I wanted at the end of a day was to go home and nerd out with my friends (mostly online ones) about my favorite fandom. I wanted to write fanfiction. I wanted to roleplay. I wanted to live with Frodo in Middle-earth.

Still, I did what I was supposed to do and filled my time with extracurriculars like a good "self-starter," and when I got into college, it was the same thing all over again. I could not expect into med school if I simply did well academically. I had to have extracurriculars again, and for best results these had to "prove" that I was truly interested in the medical field -- research, volunteering, medical mission trips, etc.

I had exactly one extracurricular in college that I enjoyed -- working for the campus crisis line. But my "resume" was a mile long, and guess how happy I was.

And in medical school it was the same thing yet again! It was less egregious, but enriching medically adjacent activities outside one's classes were highly encouraged.

And in residency, AGAIN, it was the same thing. If you weren't doing extra "optional-but-not-really" crap to pad your resume, you were missing out. They were a little more sane about it, but still, it was there.

And finally, I am at the end. I've got my "real doctor job." I can see patients and go home. This is what I've always wanted -- to perform a set of functions, maybe even highly advanced and demanding functions, and go home, and do what I want. Which is, you guessed it, nerd out online about my favorite media, watch said media, and write fanfiction. Does this make me a tool? Yes, perhaps, but an expensive, highly specialized tool, thank you very much. The world runs on such tools as me, and I have no shame about it.

I am done pretending I have "leadership qualities." I lead my medical team, thank you very much, and that's more than enough for me. Do I want to be the director of our department, if the spot were to open up? No, thank you, no, thank you, no thank you -- it's only a little bit more pay for a truckload of administrative duties. When I was a leader of various student groups, I had more than enough of politics, conflict resolution, paperwork, and inane meetings. I've had more than enough hassling people who weren't keeping up, and offering assistance I was ill-equipped to provide.

Do I want to take on trainees? Hmm, try elsewhere. Do I want to be a beta user who helps developers of the electronical medical record software? Are you kidding me? Do I want to sit on a committee? Yeah, look for another idiot. I have better ways to spend my lunchtime (read: thinking about fanfic).

And it feels so good to finally be able to say no and to be free for a change.

(Importantly, none of the above has anything to do with coasting at work, "just wanting to get my paycheck and get out," or "quiet quitting." I am good at my job and take pride in continuing to be so. I give my all every day, and I'm always working to improve my knowledge and skills, because medicine is always changing. THOSE are things I am only too happy to work on outside of office hours.)

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

this just in: Irish loser is Sad™ because all my friends can go and do shit but not me apparently

Vent under the cut, I'm really sorry about this but I have to get it off my chest (it's nothing too serious but it is kinda long)

I'm eighteen. I've voted twice. I've finished secondary school. People my age are planning holidays and going to college and moving out and actually living life, and I feel like I'm falling behind so so much.

I don't have a bank account. I don't have a passport or any form of photo ID with a date of birth. I don't even have (or want!) a driver's licence, I will circle back to that later though.

My parents (particularly my mom) keep saying they'll help me get set up with all the above but because Mom's busy with work and Dad's really forgetful, it never gets done.

It's gotten to a point where I don't actually see a point in getting these things set up, for the following reasons:

I haven't had my name legally changed yet so everything would be set up under my deadname. Which. Fuck that.

For a bank account to make sense I would need money and I live in literally the textbook definition of "rural ass farming town" so the only jobs around that don't need experience are working in the supermarket or food service. I would, and I'm not exaggerating here, rather launch myself into a black hole than do those jobs because I've heard from my neurotypical peers how hard they are so I can only imagine how awful it would be for someone with autism like myself. My only other option is to try and get unemployment benefits but like. What would I even be spending the money on? Certainly not a house (the housing market in Ireland is literally impossible) and not a holiday either.

For a passport to make sense I would need to be able to travel, and quite aside from the No Money thing (see above) I've been fucked over by fate yet again because Mom doesn't trust me to go places on my own. She's only quite recently started letting me take the bus to a town half an hour away with friends. I don't even see the use in asking her to go on a train/plane/ferry unaccompanied because I know for a fact she'd say no. She'd say something along the lines of "we should do this together a few times first" which, understandable, but then she's so tired from work and busy with housework on the weekends that that never ends up coming to fruition. Add to that my crippling anxiety, catastrophic thinking and fear of the unknown, and I have basically conditioned myself into thinking I can never go anywhere more than a half hour's drive away without a parent.

I do not want to learn to drive. My dad keeps telling me I should because it would give me freedom, except no it wouldn't. It's not like I could use his car because he needs to go places too, and I could probably never afford my own car cause that shit is expensive as hell to run and maintain, so I really see no sense in learning. Also, I have the navigational skills of a teaspoon, so I would be basically guaranteed to get lost.

All of this has come to a point where I'm super hesitant to ask for anything because I know that either my parents will outright say no, or I'll end up chickening out because they'll remind me there's probably something I haven't thought of. (Mind, they don't often fully explain what)

And this was fine a few years ago when I had no friends and couldn't see how people actually lived their lives, but as my friends are all telling me about things they plan to do, I guess I'm having a lot of realisations.

The first time a classmate of mine said she was going on a holiday independently with some friends of hers, my first immediate thought was, "Do her parents just not care?" This would've been a little over two years ago, when I and all my class were around 16.

Now, though, I'm realising that teens going places on their own is actually NORMAL and that, big surprise, I'm once again the weird one. I told Mom about this and her response was "there's no right speed to do life at" which is right, you shouldn't do things if you don't feel ready to do them, but I don't know, something about this whole situation feels kinda wrong to me.

Here's the thing that's made me emotional today though.

The big Pride festival in Ireland is on June 29th. I wanted to go last year with my friends but Mom said no because it would be "too crowded" and "what if something goes wrong and I can't be there for you" and all that. And the worst part? She's right. It would have been very overwhelming.

Anyway this year, my friends aren't going, so even if by some miracle Mom's answer was going to change, I would feel awkward not being able to go with anyone I knew. So I'm not even gonna ask.

The way I see it, I can't move on with my life in any way as it stands. I can't release music, or publish books, or sign up to act in anything, until I get my name changed, because I do not want to be renowned under my deadname.

But I also feel like I can't change my name until I move out. My parents say they need to know where I am all the time, to the point where I once had an outing with a group of friends interrupted by a call from my father because I had left with the group from the coffee shop he'd dropped me off at, to a different shop somewhere else, two minutes' walk away.

I don't know. I feel like I have no freedom or independence and I'm genuinely unsure whether this is normal for people my age, or if it's an autism thing, or if my parents (again, particularly my mother) are being weird.

Basically what I'm wondering is

Is it healthy to be in this situation? And if not, how can I get out of it?

Again, I'm really really sorry about this, I know I don't usually get all personal on here but just. I feel weird about this and need some advice or at the very least a virtual shoulder to cry on

[realsafari]

i went on a college tour the other day :D Any tips for college?

ou good question!!

let me introduce u to….

*radio announcer voice*

SAFARI’S OFFICIAL TIPS ON SURVIVING YOUR (FIRST YEAR OF?) COLLEGE

This is really long so here’s a line break for your benefit:

RESIDENCY

WHAT TO CONSIDER:

Do you know where you’re staying? Most colleges have dorms built into the student life plan for freshman, but it’s always good to check. You can usually find this on their website, but you can also call to ask. I promise they will not laugh at you.

If your residence is further away from your campus, how are you going to get there? Is it reliable? What are the chances of a problem happening with it?

MY SPECIFIC TIPS:

- If you have a dorm, remember that while you are going to be living in it, it’s not your permanent home. Don’t buy decorations for it that you wont be able to pack and take back to where you’re staying over the summer.

- Buy a toiletry caddy. I got mine at Target. Chances are you will have to share a bathroom with your hall or wing, and you do NOT want to worry about losing your things or mixing them up with others. This also makes carrying everything a whole lot easier.

- Connected to the previous, buy shower shoes. I literally just got flip-flops from dollar general (I think, I’ve had them since before I went to college)

- ALWAYS make a copy of your house/dorm key and keep it somewhere you physically can’t lose. Don’t use this key unless you genuinely misplaced your first. I had mine inside a small zipped pocket in my backpack.

- If you’re paying rent or bills, calculate the exact (or as close as possible) to how much this will cost per payment window. Bills are finicky, so try to keep your water/electricity usage the same every month. After a bit of this, you can calculate the average price. Set this money aside in a separate account for billing.

- Get to know your (possible) roommate(s). They don’t have to be your best friend. You don’t have to even hang out often. But PLEASE, at least learn each other’s names, primary study departments, and contact information.

CLASSES AND SCHEDULING

- For the love of god, you do not have to know what you’re majoring in the moment you arrive. Try out anything in any field of interest. Narrow it down later.

- Yes, you have required classes, but try to fit in classes that you’ll enjoy in between them. Breaking up my standard segments was super refreshing for me.

- PLEASE do not schedule classes for first thing in the morning or late at night. You’re going to want all the sleep and study time you can get.

- Schedule all your day classes to be relatively consecutive. If you go back to your residence in the middle of the day for a bit, you’re not going to want to leave.

- I did my best to have three classes per day on weekdays, none on saturday, and one on sunday. my basic schedule went:

CLASS 1 - 9:00

BREAK

CLASS 2 - 12:00

LUNCH

GO HOME, USUALLY STUDY OR WORK

DINNER

CLASS 3 - 18:00

Sunday are mostly free, but I like to have one class starting somewhere between 17:00 and 18:30, never later than 19:00.

- Before your first day of classes, make sure you know where every room is, which wing it’s in, entry codes, etc.

- INTRODUCE YOURSELF TO YOUR TEACHERS. IF YOU CAN’T DO THIS IN PERSON FOR ANY REASON, WRITE THEM AN EMAIL, OR BETTER YET, A PHYSICAL LETTER IN THEIR STAFF MAILBOX. ASK THEM TO GO OUT FOR COFFEE WITH YOU. I PROMISE THEY ARE NICE PEOPLE AND ARE VERY HAPPY TO BUILD A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU.

STUDYING AND WORK

- Do not stay up past 1:00 if you can help it. I get that all nighters are necessary at one point, but you WILL regret it in the morning.

- Waking up early is not a requirement. While I recommend not waking up after 8:00, you don’t need to be up at 6 or earlier. Pretty much nobody expects you to.

- I swear to god, I know how hard it is to stay organized. I used digital notes for everything, and I had at least a folder for each subject. Every subject had a different color, and most of them were thin enough that I could keep them all in a bag at once.

- Again with organization, spend time at the beginning of every quarter deleting unnecessary files, putting everything in correct folders, and labeling documents properly. Your brain is not going to understand “AS4.2/LO-DAY 5 NOTES.html” for longer than 5 minutes.

- I know we all hate Google deep down, but I have to admit I use Drive to organize my notes. I have a folder for every class, where there is a subfolder for every quarter. within these, I have a folder for each unit, or other important category. This is super helpful when studying for finals.

- Do not drink coffee or any other caffeine to stay up later. “Chugging an espresso” is not going to help you study at 24:00. Have a cup in the mornings, but never have caffeine at least 2 hours before sleeping. Power through the pain, it gets easier to stay awake as you keep going.

- DO NOT WORK IN BED. DO NOT STUDY IN BED. DO NOT WORK OR STUDY WHILE IN A PLACE YOUR BRAIN ASSOCIATES WITH SLEEP. TRUST ME ON THIS YOU WILL NOT GET ANYTHING DONE.

- Outlines are your best friend for writing essays. Literally search up “essay outline template” and go wild filling that shit in.

- While you SHOULD read the book, I don’t expect you to read everything. Spend some time summarizing what you DO know on paper, then do some research to fill in the gaps.

- Body doubling works wonders. If you can have a study buddy (bonus if they live with you) that you can check in on to keep them on track while they do the same for you, do it ASAP.

- Yeah I don’t expect you to be fully prepared for your first year in terms of study prep. Don’t worry, neither do your professors.

- Speaking of professors, please please PLEASE email them (or ask them in person!!) if you have questions or need help with their class. It’s so much better to admit you need help than to lie and postpone the inevitable.

- Charge. Your. Goddamn. Devices. You. Will. Be. Fucked. If. You. Don’t.

STUDENT LIFE

I KNOW IM AN ANTISOCIAL FUCK BUT TRUST ME ON THIS OK. I MAY NOT GO TO EVENTS OFTEN BUT I HAVE GENERAL TIPS.

- Don’t drink until you’re of legal age. Don’t do drugs ever. It doesn’t end up well, it doesn’t make you cool. Yes, THC is a drug. Yes, adults can tell if you aren’t sober. Ideally don’t drink at all unless it’s a special occasion.

- Always have the contact information of someone who isn’t at the hangout or party you’re at. Ok admittedly I didn’t go to parties but like do this anyways.

- Yeah most people don’t care if we can hear your music through your headphones unless It’s like the library or something. Or silent working time.

- Yes. You. Can. Make. Friends. With. Seniors. AND. Juniors. AGES DON’T MATTER MUCH IN COLLEGE FRIENDSHIPS.

- You literally do not have to go to any events that you don’t want to. I don’t care if people judge (they probably won’t). Just tell someone who is going where you’re going to be (even if you’re staying home!)

- Skipping class to mess around with friends once in a while is okay. I mean like once every few months. Don’t do it regularly, and make sure you get notes from anything you miss.

- You also don’t need to have friends! While it’s nice, as long as you are able to contact at least a few people for safety reasons, be as solo as you want.

- Clean up after yourself- I SWEAR IF YOU MAKE CLEANING STAFFS’ JOB MORE DIFFICULT I WILL FIND YOU.

I’m genuinely sorry that was so long, but I hope that helps in some way. I’m not used to displaying responsibility online lmao.

For added context: Im actually still in Uni. I have been since I was 19, and I plan on staying for 3 more years before doing life shit. All of these tips, even in past tense, are things I do currently/have done.

[liaromancewriter]

The Best Present

Premise: It’s his first Christmas as a married man, and Ethan reflects on how he got here.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,315

A/N: This is set today (Christmas 2022). Submission for @choicesficwriterscreations Holiday event; @choicesdecember2022 prompt Day 4 “snow on the beach”; @choicesflashfics Holiday prompt 17 in bold; @choicesholidays​ week 5 “Meet me at midnight”

The frigid wind coming off the Atlantic was howling outside, swirling snow on the beach like tiny crystals in the air. Inside the Newport mansion facing away from the sea, the rooms were decked out for the holidays in festive reds, greens and golds.

The family room was warm from the central heating and a roaring fire; the drapes across the French doors pulled aside to let in the sunshine but keep out the cold.

The beautiful tree in the corner with its matching ornaments and gold star topper no longer sheltered colorful presents. Those had long since been opened by their recipients over hot cocoa and eggnog. Exclamations of surprise, gratitude and laughter filled the air as each gift was unwrapped.

Ethan Ramsey sipped coffee from a holiday-themed mug chockful of sarcasm, a present from his wife. The fire popped and crackled in the large fireplace, but his mind wasn’t in the here and now. It was in the past and the events that led him to this moment.

When he was a little boy, Ethan still believed in the magic of Christmas and Santa Claus. He remembered trying to stay awake one Christmas Eve, hoping to catch Santa in the act. Maybe give him the card he had drawn just for him. But he’d fallen asleep curled up next to the upstairs banister.

The last thing he remembered was watching his parents kissing under the mistletoe while Christmas music played on the radio. His dad must have found him because he woke up on Christmas morning tucked inside his bed, clutching his favorite teddy bear. He never did get to meet Santa.

Over the years, he’d stopped believing in Christmas and all it entailed. The season had been a good way to make extra money in high school and college. He’d been too busy with his studies in med school to give it much thought, except when Tobias dragged him out to celebrate.

During residency and after, he preferred working. He’d often rang in the season with any of the revolving door of women in his life that happened to be free. He didn’t want permanency. But something about the holidays made others wish for it. So, he’d been careful to keep things casual.

Fast forward almost ten years later, Ethan still had difficulty believing he was in the most permanent relationship of his life. Marriage. And with someone for whom family was as essential as breathing.

He glanced over his shoulder, searching and then he saw her. Cassie Valentine. His first and only love. His wife. His partner in everything.

She was laughing with her brother and cousins on the other side of the room. And he wondered again how he’d gotten so lucky.

He had finally met his match. Someone who was his equal professionally, challenged him personally and made him laugh and feel lighthearted even on the darkest days. And was happy with who he was and not who she wished he could be.

“I fell in love with the real Ethan Ramsey, not a figment of my imagination,” she told him the night before their wedding when his nerves had gotten the better of him.

He’d found himself standing outside her bedroom door, a speech prepared, convinced that it was only fair to offer her an out. No hard feelings. He wasn’t sure he could ever give her what she deserved. But he should have known she’d see right through him.

���I don’t want an out, Ethan,” she said quietly. “But if you do….”

She stood in the open doorway looking beautiful in a simple green gown, her hair in a messy bun, and her face shiny from the night cream she liked to slather before going to bed.

And he realized what an idiot he was at that very moment.

“I don’t,” he said vehemently. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am about marrying you.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow at the altar.”

She started to close the door, but he wasn’t satisfied with leaving things like this. He yanked her into his arms; his mouth descended on hers, swallowing her sighs, imprinting himself on her. Reaffirming the promise of what was to come and thank her for giving him endless chances.

Six months later, his nerves were still there, and so was his fear of messing up. But he also knew that he was a product of his DNA. Not the half that was restless and had chosen to walk away but the one that had stayed, devoted to the last.

He looked over at the armchairs near the fireplace where Alan was enjoying mulled wine with Olivia, their conversation too low for his ears. His father was the symbol of constancy in his life. A man who loved his family and had endless patience and forgiveness in his heart.

Once upon a time, Ethan had worried about the differences in his and Cassie’s family backgrounds. But his father and in-laws had gotten along exceptionally well from the first meeting. And he realized that at the core, where it mattered, they were similar people.

When his phone pinged, he fished it out of his pocket; his thumb automatically clicking on the notification when he saw Cassie’s name on the screen.

He was still grinning like a fool at the screen when he felt the air shift around him, and he quickly locked the phone. They were surrounded by Cassie’s family, and the last thing he wanted was someone to see the risqué text.

Ethan let out a sigh of relief when he realized it was Cassie. She joined him on the couch, draping his arm over her shoulder as she nestled into his side. She kissed the underside of his jaw and grinned.

“Excited for your present?” she asked wickedly.

“Are you sure we have to wait until midnight?”

He cupped the side of her face, the pad of his thumb moving against her lower lip as he stared into her eyes. She was already wearing the earrings he’d given her, the sparkle of diamonds no match against the emerald green of her eyes.

“Yes! I want you panting in anticipation.”

“You do that just by breathing. I can prove it. Right now, in fact,” Ethan smirked.

“Nice try, Dr. Ramsey,” she said, throwing him a mock steely-eyed gaze, a teasing smile hovering on her lips. “I plan to drive you crazy today, and you will play along.”

Before he could convince her otherwise, she shot her arm up in the air, held it still above their heads and looked up. “Look, there’s mistletoe. We have to kiss, it’s the law.”

Ethan followed her gaze and saw she clutched a sprig of mistletoe in her hand. He smiled when she gently shook it, a not-so-subtle hint. She straddled his lap, uncaring about who might be watching.

“Well, if it’s the law, who am I to break it?” he drawled, taking her face between his hands.

They both closed the distance between their lips, neither certain who kissed who first. Not that it mattered. Mistletoe was forgotten, and her arms circled the back of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her close

Lost in each other, they didn’t notice the secret smiles on their parents’ faces or the hollering and teasing laughter from her cousins.

Later that night, after he’d unwrapped and enjoyed his final Christmas present, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with eyes struggling to stay awake. He tightened his arm around Cassie, already asleep beside him.

His last thought before sleep took him was that today had been the best Christmas ever. He wouldn’t change a thing because everything in his life had led him to this moment. This woman.

And that was the best present of all.

Bonus

All Fics & Edits: @a-crepusculo​ @annfg8​ @bex-la-get​ @bluebelle08​ @cariantha​ @choicesaddict5​ @coffeeheartaddict2​ @crazy-loca-blog​ @doriopenheart​ @genevievemd​ @headoverheelsforramsey​ @lucy-268​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @jerzwriter​ @mysticalgalaxysstuff​ @openheartforeverinmyheart​ @peonierose​ @takemyopenheart​ @potionsprefect​ @queencarb​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @rookiemartin​ @trappedinfanfiction​ @vi-writes-stuff​ @zahrachoices​

Submissions: @openheartfanfics​

Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie​ @lady-calypso​ @hopelessromantic1352​

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 9

read part 8 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: graphic depictions of violence, literary gore, major character death

a/n: we are winding down on this series, so if you have any requests or suggestions please leave them for me! i need some inspo for my next story, but I'm also gonna do some short stuff in between.

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

I’ve been sitting outside of Mindy and Chad’s place for way longer than appropriate. I know that they probably know I’m here, but I can’t make myself get out of the car.

It’s not that I don’t want to see them. I really, really do. I want to see them so badly that I swallowed my grief and guilt and got cleaned up for the first time in days. I just can’t shake the way Ethan looked at Chad and me earlier. I clench the steering wheel tighter. I’ve never seen that kind of rage, like he wanted to–

No. I push that thought away. It’s time, anyway, for me to stop being a baby and go inside. I double-check one last time that I have my bag, keys, and phone, before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

I can hear music coming from the house, even though the door is closed. The twins have a habit of blasting their speakers, which the neighbors hated until they moved away over the summer. Now, Mindy and Chad can destroy their eardrums whenever they please. 

Letting myself in, I drop my bag in the mudroom before following the sound of voices to the kitchen. Chad is hunched over the stovetop, and Mindy is sitting at the kitchen island with her chin in her hands. She perks up when she sees me, giving me a signature Mindy smirk.

“Well, look who decided to show up, huh?”

Chad throws me a smile over his shoulder. “Hey, leave her alone, Minds. She’s just in time for dinner!”

“Thanks, you guys,” I say. “What are we having?”

“Only my original pasta dish, of course,” Chad steps aside to reveal a mess of tomatoes, Parmesan containers, and empty plastic sleeves of bacon, for some reason. “It got a little out of hand. But it’s delicious!”

I laugh, and Chad smiles even wider. It fills me with something I haven’t felt in a while: contentment. There is literally nowhere else I’d rather be right now.

Mindy and Chad usher me to the dining room table, which they actually set with real cloth napkins and placemats. I’m impressed. Usually, my dinners at the Meeks-Martin house have been chips and cold pizza at 3 AM during sleepovers.

The food is perfect. I don’t know what Chad put in it, or where he found the recipe (if there was a recipe), but the food puts me in a good mood. We laugh and talk until we’ve finally stuffed ourselves. Chad is the last one to tap out, and he immediately retires to the living room to digest, claiming chef privileges that exempt him from cleanup.

“Clear the table with me, Y/N?” Mindy asks.

“Of course.” I grab a couple plates and silverware and follow Mindy back to the kitchen. I start folding placemats as she loads the dishwasher.

“Thanks for the dinner. You got all fancy for me, I see,” I tease. “Where are your parents, by the way?”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, you love that we’re spoiling you. They’re at a friend’s house tonight or something. Won’t be back until later.”

“What about Anika? I thought she’d come for sure.”

“Nah, her parents have her under house arrest. They’re spooked by– um. You know. Even though it wasn’t some psycho this time. It was just… Tara.”

I go quiet. Mindy is choked up again.

“I just can’t believe she’d do it,” she whispers.

“I know,” I say. “I guess sometimes it just gets to be too much–” “No, that’s the thing though,” Mindy interrupts. “It wasn’t. I was just talking to her about the attacks last year, right before. She said she felt like she was finally free, finally moving on. And it’s like I said, we were making plans. Real plans. She started an application to college. And she was looking for summer jobs, trying to save money for room and board. These aren’t things suicidal people do, Y/N.”

My throat feels tight. “What are you saying?”

She puts a hand over her forehead and takes a deep breath. “I’m saying that something isn’t right. What if some, like, freaky Ghostface disciple actually killed her?”

“Jesus, Mindy, are you serious?” I turn to see Chad in the doorway, a pained expression on his face. I didn’t hear him come in. 

“This isn’t one of your horror movies,” he continues, and I hear his voice trying not to break. “Sometimes life is just unfair.”

“But think about it!” Mindy continues. “She was partying, she was living. Yes, she was mad at Sam, but she got in those fights all the time! And the report said she hadn’t deadbolted the door that morning, and I know she hadn’t cracked that copy of The Bell Jar they found– she was just saying she had to SparkNotes the whole thing for class.”

“Enough, Mindy, I’m fucking serious.” Chad’s voice is raised, louder than I’ve ever heard it, But Mindy doesn’t back down. She turns to me, expectantly.

“You were basically her best friend, Y/N.” Her voice is low and intense. “Seriously. What do you think? You know that Tara wouldn’t do that.”

I look between their faces, and all of the guilt I thought I had started to let go of rises to the top. I have to tell them the truth. 

I shut my eyes tight and a tear rolls down my cheek. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” I feel Chad put a hand on my shoulder. It’s getting hard to breathe again. 

“I- I-” I stammer. “Me, and Ethan, we–”

But I’m cut off by the sound of strangled screaming. I open my eyes and my blood goes cold.

Mindy’s throat is slashed, dripping blood down her neck onto her t-shirt. Behind her is a figure in a black cloak and a white mask: Ghostface.

Ghostface lets go of Mindy, and she sinks to the floor. Even though I can’t reach her to check, I feel in my bones that she’s gone. My stomach turns into knots. I back up towards the countertop. Dear Diary: This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

Chad fumbles for a weapon on the knife block, but all of the knives have been removed. He grabs a meat tenderizer from the counter. “Fucking run, Y/N,” he roars, and I’m snapped out of my trance.

Ghostface lunges towards Chad, but he gets one hit in with the kitchen implement, hitting him in the chest. He stumbles backward, and I make a break back towards the dining room. I hear the sound of plates hitting the ground and animalistic sounds of exertion, but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear Chad screaming. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the glint of a knife as it plunges in and out of Chad’s chest. Chad coughs up blood as he falls to his knees, but Ghostface doesn’t let up. He raises his knife and delivers one last blow, clean into Chad’s heart.

I let out a guttural scream. Ghostface turns towards me, wiping his knife clean between his robed fingers. I’m paralyzed with fear. Any survival skills I might have picked up from watching countless horror films are gone– I can’t even run.

He stalks towards me, and I close my eyes, preparing for the worst. But the blow never comes. Instead, I’m enveloped in an embrace of fabric.

I open my eyes to see the eyes of the blood-stained mask staring right at me. Slowly, the figure raises their hand, grabbing the base of the headpiece. My breathing quickens, and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest as he slowly pulls the mask off to reveal a mop of brown curls.

No.

No.

Ethan gives me a big toothy grin. “Hey, beautiful.”

I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything. He must be able to tell, because he lets out a throaty laugh. “Surprised?”

“How– how could you?” I manage to choke out. “Why… would you do this?”

“I did it for you, Y/N. For us. Do you know how close that freak Mindy was getting to figuring out the truth? You heard her. And then we’d both be in prison. Separate. Alone.”

“But Chad,” I sob. “Why would you hurt him?”

His face darkens. “Now that one, I have to admit, was fucking selfish. He wanted you, I know it. He fucking wanted you, but you’re mine.”

I can’t say anything. I’m shaking with fear, anger, confusion, everything. 

Ethan frowns. “I worship you, Y/N. I'd trade my life so you can live. I killed them for you.”

“No, no, I didn’t want– I never asked–”

“I love you, Y/N,” he growls. “Tell me you love me.” His grip grows tighter, and I finally notice the tip of the knife at my back.

What else can I say?

“I love you too, Ethan,” I concede, voice wavering.

He relaxes, and the knife clatters to the floor. “Good,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

He grabs me by the wrist and leads me out the door. As we travel through the kitchen, I shut my eyes tight. Ethan stops us. 

“Look,” he growls.

I force my eyes open and choke down my nausea at the sight of the twins’ bodies. Ethan grabs my face and pulls me into a deep kiss.

“For you, Y/N. All for you.”

taglist: @miawastakens

[kinshenewa]

So I came up with another au for my Celestial Jesters story.

The whole story is fake. It never happened. It was just fanfic written by a depressed teen, and it became her dream to create a show based on her story. So as an adult, she was lucky enough to have a lot of extended family who gave her small amounts of money for her birthday every year, and she had a Kofi/gofundme/Kickstarter (I'll decide later) going for that since she was a young teen.

She went to college for robotics, and got a degree. As a young woman quickly approaching 30, she was lucky enough to have inherited a nice parcel of land and have the money to pay her friend to help make 3D models of the characters (She already had rudimentary models 2 years before she started working on the show (Which would take another 2 years) but she wanted help from a friend but would not take 'no don't pay me' for an answer. She pays her friend even though her friend has told her repeatedly she doesn't need to pay them)

She created the actual animatronics, but not looking like themselves, they were just some nice endoskeletons with all their required mechanics and wrapped in green screen fabric. She dresses them up in their outfits (Which she gets custom made from a tailor) and built a room specifically like their room on her property. It is in an enclosed building, which includes their whole room and the hallway for their room.

She had to get custom-made furniture as well, because the furniture that the boys use are slightly bigger than regular human furniture.

It took 5 years total to get the building permits, build the rooms, build the animatronics, code the animatronics, make the 3D models (And rig them), change some parts of her house to match the script, and make the story in script form.

She changed her room just ever so slightly, changing the door ever so slightly and covering the window with a green screen because in the story there is not a window in her room.

She didn't have any help with the camera work, just had cameras set in specific points and some little camera jockeys (Which is what she lovingly called the small cameras that moved around on wheels).

The boys room is in her backyard, which is quite big since she inherited a parcel in a rural area, which allows her to make some of the sets (the cafeteria is completely animatated, they human is the only real thing in there aside from some food on her plate)

One day, during a shoot, everything is going as planned, until Eclipse says, "I really do love you." And then she's all confused and looking at the script and saying, "Hold up, that isn't in the script?"

She had programmed them with actual AIs so it could be easier to get everything done. Saves a lot of work compared to just coding them with their actions and dialogue.

So the DCA went full circle and back to their roots XD. Originally an animatronic, then aliens, and back to animatronic.

Sun, Moon, and Eclipse all see her with reverence, they see her as their god and creator, and they are madly in love. So when Eclipse says that and she's looking at the script in her hands, Eclipse takes the script, literally throws it over his shoulder and out of the room, then kneels and grabs her hands gently as he looks into her eyes. The only color on him aside from his outfit and green screen covering is his eyes, because she made the eyes to act like how eyes are supposed to (when it is really just screens that light up, allowing their eyes to glow for some scenes), and he just looks deep into her eyes. The frills are also colored, because tests done had failed when they tried to make it happen with the animating.

Eventually it turns into where, on her Youtube channel, she starts releasing bloopers of the animatronics, them goofing off during filming, which she can only do now because the have grown sentient.

Yeah,I'm probably missing something but that is the general idea

[kamilah-is-queen]

Her

Pairing: Ina Kingsley (Hispanic) x MC (Sofia) x Poppy Min-Sinclair

Warning: Language

Tagging: Tagging: @ta-sayeed, @kamilahtopme, @nydeiri, @rhonda-sayeed, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @millasayeed, @vonda-be-real, @livvynka, @queenkamilah, @leenasayeed, @skylarkxxyy, @choicesgrp, @ilove-kamilah-sayeed, @justavampirefan, @iamsimpforpoppy, @friendlybuddy

Author’s Note: At last, the introduction of Ina Kingsley’s fandom onto this page! 🎉 This is going to be a medium length series. Each and every comment, like, and reblog is special to me so come and support the dying fandoms, and let me know your thoughts. Also, message or comment if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list.

What’s more refreshing than a crisp autumn day in New England, where the leaves have matured into a beautiful honey-brown and a delightful breeze cruises the skies, especially on this sunny day.

What’s even more thrilling, for Sofia at least, is it’s the start of her college story, at none other than the private, posh, and oh so exotic Belvoire University. This school is nothing but a school playground for the entitled little princes and princesses of New York.

It’s a circus, really. The horror stories weigh heavier than the school’s prestige and accomplishments but who the heck cares? If it’s expensive, it’s got to be good.

Thankfully, Sofia isn’t of the norm. Growing up in a rural town in Kansas taught her that money isn’t everything, persistence and respect is, first and foremost. And if you’re going to go places “girlie, you better work your damn ass off” as her mother likes to put it, politely.

So, this should be a breeze. Fitting in with young adults who have worked not a minute in their lives, who have never been generous to donate even a small share of their inherited wealth to those that genuinely need it?

Yeah, it’ll be a breeze.

Or at least that’s what Sofia thought.

Map in hand, the young cowgirl set off to class in her red flannel shirt, the buttons revealing just enough of her cleavage underneath and her bootcut jeans, a style she never got tired of showing off.

It was surprisingly a short, precise route to her first period from the car park, prompting a smile to dawn on Sofia’s face before she suddenly noticed all the curious eyes, directly on her.

Dirt poor…

“Wait, they’re talking about me?” She internalized.

Stupid cowgirl…

“Hey! I’m not a-“

Horse shit…

The calloused fists of Sofia’s clenched tightly together, so much so the tips of her knuckles turned white. Her eyes scanned from figure to figure, as they all laughed and snarkily insulted her under their breath.

God, she just wanted to sort them straight. Who were they to judge her so quickly? She hadn’t even made any companions, and already her status was lowered, to the very, very bottom.

“Hey, hey you! Shit face!”

Chad, a 6’4, brute of a jock snapped around to meet Sofia’s furious gaze. “You talking to me, you horse turd?”

Oh was Sofia getting riled up.

“Yeah I’m talking to you, you walking hunk of junk.” Knowing Sofia, she never backed down from a fight. Never. If she learnt anything from the farm, it’s that the fittest survive and the weakest don’t.

The cowgirl shoved aside her backpack, and stormed towards Chad, her face full of fury and her fists ready to strike.

“You better watch your mouth little bit-“

BAM!

A sturdy body punch to the liver.

BAM BAM!

One feisty uppercut to the jaw which left Chad in a state of dizziness, before she knocked him unconscious with a powerful left hook.

A sea of phones whipped out immediately to capture the incident, definitely destined to make the school’s breaking news the same afternoon. “Holy shit dude, she knocked Chad out!”

Murmurs and shocked gasps came from the enormous wave of students, who flooded in to witness the scene. But only one girl led the pack, Poppy… Min… Sinclair.

“Ew, get out of my way, creep.” She pushed her way to the front and gasped dramatically at the sight of Chad face flat on the ground, with cowgirl Sofia just behind, who was pulling her back back on her shoulders.

“Ugh, excuse me? What the hell just happened?” Her high pitched tone caught Sofia’s attention, her blue eyes flicking up to meet Poppy’s own. “He got what he deserved, I don’t take nobody’s bullshit.” Her southern accent was thick like her mama’s buttermilk biscuits, the velvety tone that ensued, surprisingly, sent a shiver down Poppy’s spine.

“And who the hell are you..?” Poppy’s eyes raked across Sofia’s muscled figure, her throat choked for air the further her eyes reached.

“Sofia, Sofia Nassib.”

Poppy’s eyes flicked fearlessly to Sofia’s lips, as she slowly pressed closer, and closer, until she was just centimeters from Sofia’s bronzy face.

“You better not do anything stupid like that again, do you understand me?” Poppy’s sharply filed nails raked down, and up the cowgirl’s arm, instinctively drawing goosebumps on the girl as soon as her nails touched Sofia’s skin.

“I said, do you understand me?” She gripped Sofia’s collar and tugged her even closer, Sofia’s neck bending in the process to reach her small height. “Or what?”

A challenging, daunting game was yet to be played and neither wanted to back down for the seat of power.

“Well, he’s my boyfriend of course. I’ll handle you like I’ve handled every other bold little bitch whose stood in my way.”

Poppy never once stuttered, nor did she even hesitate to slash her nails across Sofia’s face to permanently remind her of the incident, and the trouble the cowgirl was yet to face.

“See you later Farmsville!”

———————————— 1 PM ———————————

Professor Kingsley, room 660… Sofia read off the blue transcript in her bruised and bloodied hand. She peeked up to the find the classroom door open, with the lights dimmed inside.

Peculiarly, Sofia looked around before entering the somewhat dark classroom, the lack of artificial light setting her in the mood for a well deserved nap.

She picked a seat in the middle row, a decent distance from the Professor Kingsley’s sleek desk which was just a few spaces ahead.

After settling in comfortably, she took in the awe inspecting decor of the classroom. Maps as large as dining tables filled the walls, marked to shit with photos and cute little captions to go along, as well as posters of Winston Churchill and FDR dancing together in sailor uniforms, in a silly political cartoon.

Sofia was so intrigued by it all that she failed to feel the warm palm that rested upon her forearm.

Ahem…

She quickly spun around to lay her eyes upon, who else than Professor (Mommy) Kingsley. The professor’s makeup exaggerated the shimmering light in her chestnut brown orbs, a sight that had Sofia fluttering inside. It didn’t stop when her eyes quickly glanced over the tight fitting, racing green pencil skirt and blazer that the professor had on, purposely to flaunt her muscled calfs and hips.

“I couldn’t help but notice the wound on your cheek, are you alright sweetheart?”

Goddamn, her voice sounded like pure honey…

Sofia quickly blinged out of the daze and touched her cheek, wincing at the pain as she felt fresh blood drip down her flesh. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little incident this morning.” She put on her best smile, her dimple smile that she was renowned for.

“Honey you don’t look fine, oh come with me and don’t refuse.” Professor Kingsley had already set off before her student could answer, as she searched through her desk drawers frantically.

“Your classroom decor is incredible, by the way.” Sofia stated to break the silence, looking around again to avoid any further embarrassment.

“Why thank you darling, no one ever appreciates a historian’s passion for a well-decorated office and classroom. It just… brings everything to life, you know?”

She’s so cute when she rambles… said the little teeny voice inside her brain.

“I think you’ve done a fantastic job.” Sofia goofily smiled again, Professor Kingsley offering a broad grin back before placing a small cleansing kit in the cowgirl’s palm.

“It’s an anti-infecting wipe, soothing cream and a bandaid. I’ve got plenty so holler if you need some more for that wound.”

“By the way… what’s your name again?” Said Kingsley.

“Sofia Nassib, Ma’am. Nice to meet you.”

Professor Kingsley’s eyes crinkled slowly, grinning again, “likewise. Now off you go, go patch your cheek up darlin’. Don’t want that getting even worse now do we?”

“No Ma’am, we don’t.” Sofia, clutching the little packet made her way towards the door of the classroom before halting abruptly in the doorway.

“Well, well, well… lookie here.”

Not Poppy!!!

[not-available-for-comment]

Do you want to share what kind of things you had in mind are less uncomfortable than people are lead to believe? Im intrigued by your tags but I cant tell if you mean that being read as female is less uncomfortable or doing things is discouraged and marketed as uncomfortable to people treated like women or…?

Oh, sure! I mean, hmmm I feel like my answer is cancellable but hey let’s go for it I don’t have enough other things going on in my life (lie).

So, my growing up is extremely difficult to explain both accurately and briefly, but for the purposes of this discussion let’s put it this way: I grew up very sheltered but that very sheltered environment was sometimes in the context of a broader unsafe environment. Very sheltering family living in an unsafe neighborhood, for example.

This meant that by the time I was in my late teens/early 20s I was in a very weird relationship with caution and breaking the rules. On the one hand, I had the normal young adult desire to experience things outside of my previous realm of knowledge and break away from my parents. On the other hand, I had seen and experienced just enough actual danger and hardship in life to be very very cautious of any actual break with the extremely conservative way I’d been brought up. And I was living at home during college to save money.

So. Almost 20 years ago:

- I am 20

- I am a true love waits conservative Christian celibate virgin complete with promise ring

- I have never dated

- I am vaguely afraid of alcohol for various reasons

- I am vaguely afraid of non-Christians for various reasons

- I am confused by and very awkwardly “hate the sin love the sinner” towards gays (I am not aware of the rest of the lgbtqia spectrum yet)

- I am not exactly afraid of going out at night, but I am afraid of doing so outside the suburbs and without a car

Then

I go to Europe. By myself. (Not entirely literally—it was a program set up by my school. But I didn’t know anyone I went with aside from one girl, and her only as a distant acquaintance.)

I start traveling with new friends (non-Christians!) who don’t live in my town. This means I frequently end up taking the midnight train home, which arrives after the busses have stopped running.

I have to walk through the town at midnight, in the dark.

Everything I’ve heard about being a girl means this is “asking for it”. Unsafe, undefended, unaccompanied. I spend most of my trips quietly praying my mom doesn’t somehow become psychically aware of what I’m doing.

And?

Nothing happens.

I don’t say this to demean or downplay the people who have been assaulted in those circumstances. We know, statistically, those assaults are rare, but they are still real and traumatic.

But for me? Seeing that when I placed myself in a situation I had been assured was teeming with muggers and rapists, and surviving with nothing weirder than a drunk crab-walking home from the bar to show for it? Was a revelation.

Watching French women make out with their boyfriends in the street was a revelation.

Watching my friends moderate the amount they drank and behaving responsibly, with, at worst, a hangover to show for it the next day was a revelation.

Learning that I could just leave when people got drunker than I was comfortable with was a revelation.

Making friends with a bisexual girl who managed to be very patient with my clumsy attempts at proselytizing in spite of being young herself was formative. Making friends with a straight ally who refused to let me trot out the usual “compassionate conservative” talking points when I talked about queer issues was formative.

This has strayed a little from your question

But perhaps not as much as you think. My experience—which granted did involve deploying skills I already knew, like situational awareness and caution with nosy strangers—convinced me that the constant litany of “ways to keep safe” do as much to harm women as the actual dangers of being a woman. The first midnight walk across town was terrifying. The fifth was maybe not as relaxed as I would’ve been in the daytime, but significantly calmer.

I changed the way I walked when I was in Europe. I’ve always been a fast walker, but I developed an easy, confident, purposeful lope that I still love while I was walking home at night or exploring with my friends. Is that walk part of being a woman? I know some people who know me would say no, but to me it is. It’s one of the things I won with my freedom to be an independent person. How comfortable is that?

I often see a subset of women online—young women, yes, but many middle aged women also—who have extremely clear ideas about what is “acceptable” if you’re a woman. How much makeup you can or can’t wear. Where you can go. How confident you can be. How you cut your hair. What sort of places you’ll go to alone. And so often. So, so often. I look at these supposed “rules” that “society” has “agreed on” for womanhood. And I think, “You need to talk to your mother 30% less” or “Dump his ass” or “You need less boring friends”.

Women: You can wear less makeup. You can wear MORE makeup. Maybe someone will be weird about it. Probably not everyone will. Most people should not care. If most people DO care, hang out with different people. It’s your face. Be yourself. “Society” gives less of a shit about any specific thing than you think, though I am not naive enough to claim you can’t aggregate enough difference to draw extra attention.

Doing the thing is uncomfortable the first time or two because you’re nervous. But it is catastrophic far less often than women are led to believe. I think in rhetoric and in our own minds that initial discomfort gets conflated with actual danger and transgression to a deeply unhealthy degree. I’m not arguing that people make unsafe decisions in highly conservative areas. I am saying that a surprising amount of living comfortably involves pretending you have a right to be somewhere and doing something until you and the people around you believe it. This may involve initial discomfort. In some circumstances that discomfort may escalate to a point you decide it’s not worth it to do the thing or do it in the same way. But if you keep doing the thing and are as kind as you know how to be? A surprising amount of things are possible.

And I wanted to address more than cis women because I think many categories of people are affected. I can’t speak much to the closeted transmasc experience (being perceived as a woman and receiving the same conditioning but for an identity you may not identify with). But I will say, it breaks my heart to see the way trans women encounter the same flurry of rhetoric about appearance and behavior that cis women do, only to an even greater degree.

In some ways (I really hope I’m not overstepping here) but in some ways the bullshit terf rhetoric of being “always able to tell” is better evidence that trans women are women than anything else. Which of us cis women have not been hearing since we were very young that we failed at being a woman in some way? Too skinny, too fat, too loud, too shy, too smart, too dumb, too horny, too frigid. How many of us have wretched memories of a sleepover or birthday party or lunch period where someone tried to pull the womanhood out from under us entirely, purely for social clout?

And yet. And yet! I love being a woman. It’s not better than being another gender, but it’s where I’ve always lived and I like it here. And I want more women, cis, trans, and everything in between, to love it too. Whether that means wearing frilly Lolita fashion or steel toed work boots. Whether that means working at the garage or working closing shift at the library. Whether that means having kids or not. Whether that means getting married or not. Whether that means having tits or not. Whether that means having a cock or not, and whether or not the cock is detachable. I want women to be allowed to be human. Humans who sometimes dare to do dangerous things, not because being reckless is necessary to being a woman but because being alive is a little bit dangerous sometimes. And I want trans women to know that extends to them as well. Not as an expectation that can be failed, but as an invitation to get here in the muck with the rest of us. It’s frustrating being a woman sometimes, but it’s also the goddamn best.

I’ve taken a lot of risks over the years. Some have paid off, some have led to heartbreak, but all have taught me new things. But nearly 20 years after I first screwed up the courage to walk home alone at midnight, I still believe that the actual doing is almost always less uncomfortable than the terrible version of it that lives in your head.

No idea if this is a coherent response to your question but it is at least heartfelt.

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

0.3 hurricane season

warnings : abusive home life, cussing

word count : 5.8k

0.3 Hurricane Season Comes a Couple Months too Early 

If I were religious, this confessional probably would've hit a little bit harder, but— y'know. It's never too late to repent or whatever the Christians say. 

I completely ditched Grover the second the bus made a complete stop. His bladder acted up every time he got anxious or nervous and this time was no different. He bolted for the bathroom the second he got off the bus.

He made me promise to stay right where I was and he'd be back in a second. But whatever happened, I had to stay there. 

I felt so guilty starting my bike back up. I'd even hoped it would be loud enough to grab his attention and make him come running back out to stop me. But it was New York, and the roar of my engine just blended in with the other loud noises. He didn't come out. So I left. 

He was out of sight and he was just freaking me out too much. And I had just finished a school year, which meant I was less than an hour from seeing my mother. The feeling of needing to see her just became too overbearing. 

A few words about her, just before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she is actually the greatest, most genuinely perfect person I've ever met. Which, by the way, just proves my theory that the best people have to worst luck. It was kinda sad really. Her parents both died in a plane crash when she was five, so she had to move in with her uncle. He didn't really care for her all that much, so she spent more than enough of her life feeling neglected and unwanted. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent highschool working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma. 

The best break she seemed to have ever gotten was meeting my dad. 

I have no memories of him, just this kind of... warm glow, maybe the barest trace of a smile. My mom doesn't like talking about him and she doesn't have any pictures. She said he was rich and important, so for all I know, I could've met him at an A-list party or something without knowing of any relation between us. 

The only problem with that was: no one in Hollywood looked like me, which for the record is funny— because I've met almost too many who would pay every dollar they have in order to do so. I've had many plastic surgeons tell me my face was the most requested one for women who came to them. 

RDJ, who played my father in the MCU as our Tony/Celeste Stark father-daughter duo, had once offered to be my fill-in father, once. I'd only laughed him off, but secretly wouldn't have minded. With how much advice I always asked of him, it was like he filled the roll in, anyway. 

But aside from that, it also isn't an odd thing to say because I look nothing like my mother. Everything to do with my facial structure and features came from my father because my mom's features don't match mine and our hair and eye color are both different. And there is also the even bigger point of: my mother said that he'd needed to go overseas to do whatever he did. So he set sail over the Atlantic and never came back. 

She'd always said he was lost at sea. Never dead, just lost at sea. 

Either way, she worked odd jobs to provide for us, even though I could've done it myself. She always hated it when I spent my money on her, so she didn't let me buy an apartment, at least not one she'd live in, and she didn't let me buy my Harley. She paid for food and everything else because she is a stubborn woman and "doesn't want anyone's charity— not even her daughter's." 

She took night classes to get her high school diploma because she'd gotten pregnant right after what would've been the start of the second semester of her freshman year of college (at least, if everything had gone her way). She couldn't go back to actual high school, so she did it during the night and online. She never complained or got mad, which was kinda crazy, all things considered. I was not an easy child, not by a long shot. 

That, combined with paparazzi always following me around, combined with how awfully I got along with my asshole stepfather, her life was a trainwreck. She'd married Gabe when I was around 5 or 6. He'd been nice the first few seconds we knew him, but quite soon after revealed his true world-class asshole, misogynistic colors. As I grew up, I'd started calling him a range of nicknames, most including curse words that my mother always gave me a dirty look for saying. 

I didn't know if it was just me being superstitious or paranoid or something, but I always felt gross around him. He stared at me like I was a piece of meat or a stack of 100 dollar bills or something. It always made me feel like I needed to take five showers and scrub a layer of skin off of my body. 

Just to add salt to the wound, he smelled awful. Like so bad to the point where I'd have to apply perfume outside of my apartment because it would wear off the second I walked into the same room as him. 

The two of us made my mom's life a living hell, with how much we hated each other and how awfully he treated her. When I get home is a really good example of how our 'step-father, step-daughter' "relationship" worked. 

Our apartment was pretty small, mostly because it was coming from mom's money and not mine. When I needed a fix of seeing my mom, this is where I'd hunker down, but that didn't mean I lived there full-time. I had my own apartment in my name in the Upper East Side, almost too luxurious for a seventeen-year-old, but there were certain pretenses I had to set as "Hollywood's  Shining Star". Plus, I needed a few bones to throw paps whenever they got too close to figuring out my mother's address. The absurdly large amount of rent I paid, in addition to giving me an escape whenever Gabe pissed me off too much, was another way I attempted to save my mother. I'd been used to the business for my whole life, she still didn't understand many of the ways my world worked. 

But even as small as it was, Gabe mostly took over the living room so he could play poker with his buddies, so that always made it seem even smaller. I never knew why he enjoyed playing so often, since the times he won were few and far between. The T.V. blared ESPN, talking about an NFL player who'd hurt his hamstring during practice. I'd hoped my mom would be home, but I doubted it. Stale chips and beer cans were strewn all over the place. Oh, if only the cameras could see me now. 

He hardly looked up from his cigar, but I knew he knew it was me. "Well, there's my darling step-daughter, home from school. I was wondering when you'd make it home. Got any cash stuffed up that bra of yours?"

"No. Is my mom home yet?" I asked, praying he wouldn't actually check. 

He raised a greasy eyebrow. "She's still working. And don't lie to me, I know you love carrying cash around. I'd say you have a few twenty's in there. Maybe even a hundred or two. C'mon sweetheart. Just a little something for your step-daddy. Wouldn't want me to check now would you?"

Fuck. I sighed mentally. He could sniff money out like a goddamn bloodhound, which was funny considering his smell should've masked everything else. He was right though, not that I'd tell him; I did have a few twenties and two hundred dollar bills. And I definitely did not want him checking, considering the only time that happened was when I'd been close to getting sexually assaulted by another dude who came over to play poker with the asshole in front of me. 

I gritted my teeth and pulled out some of the cash that's been there. I slowly counted it in front of him, $280 in total, and used a little sleight of hand to give him only $60. It was a little trick my instructor had taught me a few months prior when I was filming Now You See Me. 

Gabe managed the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, but he stayed home most of the time. I never knew why he hadn't been fired long before. He just kept on collecting paychecks, spending the money on cigars that made me nauseous, and on beer, of course. Always beer. I may have enjoyed a drink or two here or there— a bit of wine at dinners, and a bit of tequila and others at certain parties— but I was never able to stomach beer. Even the smell made me sick. No doubt Games proclivities were to blame. Whenever I was home, he expected me to provide his gambling funds. He called that our "little secret." Meaning, if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out. Again.

"Gabe, the girl just got home. And she makes the money herself. Shouldn't you give her a break?" Eddie, our on-the-older-side-and-mostly-better-than-the-rest-of-Gabe's-asshole-friends building manager said, doing his best to reel Gabe in, to no avail. 

Gabe twisted his face into a frown, making his quadruple chins ripple. "Now why would I do that? She's Hollywood's bitch. She's loaded and I'm her step-father. If anything, I deserve the money she gives me considering I agreed to raise her freakshow self." He threw the money I'd given him to the middle of the table. "Give me my chips. Let's start another round."

I left as soon as the money started getting counted and replaced with chips. I was not in the mood to get screamed at for not giving him the full amount. 

My suitcase had been thrown haphazardly into the hallway, kind of close to where my bedroom door was. I picked it up on my way and once I made it into my room, I tossed it onto my bed. Gabe wanted to use my room as his own personal 'man-cave' while I wasn't in school, but my mother always made sure my door was locked and he wasn't smart enough to break-in. 

Home sweet home, I grumbled in my mind, pulling out the nearest perfume and spraying it generously. Gabe's smell was almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

But as soon as I thought about that, my legs felt weak. I remembered Grover's look of panic— how he'd made me promise I wouldn't go home without him. A sudden chill rolled through me. I felt like someone— something— was looking for me right now, maybe pounding its way up the stairs, growing long, horrible talons. Step by step, almost there—

Then, with one single word, my fears melted away. 

"Allie?" My mom's voice called. 

I felt my whole body immediately relax. My mother could make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkled and changed color in the light. Her smile, as warm as a quilt. She'd gotten a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never thought of her as old. When she looked at me, it was like she was seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Gabe.

"Oh, Allie!" She cried, almost tackling me onto my bed with a hug. "You look so grown up! I can't believe my princess graduated today!"

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home. My dietician hated it, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 

We sat together on the edge of the bed. While I attacked the blueberry sour strings, she ran her hand over my double dutch braids and demanded to know everything I hadn't called or texted her about. She asked about all the new movies I'd starred in since the beginning of the year and talked a lot about college. She mentioned a few interviews I'd done, and my cover of Vogue that I'd told her about, but hadn't come out yet. All she wanted to talk about was me. Was her baby okay? Was she doing all right?

She'd been in the middle of saying something about Columbia when Gabe interrupted from the other room. "Hey, Sally! How 'bout you make us some bean dip?"

I saw her shoulders sag, just slightly, and I knew she saw my whole body tense. She knew I hated him and she knew how much I wanted to stab him in the eye with a spoon, but she always wanted us to get along. My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to one of the hot actors who'd played as my dad in some of my movies, not this ass.

For her sake, I'd tried to sound super happy about my last year of high school, but in all honesty, it sucked. I suffered from a bad case of senioritis (even though I wasn't really a senior) and I got sexualized and catcalled almost daily. I didn't tell my mom about that, though. I also didn't tell her about Mrs. Dodds or the old ladies. With the usual horrible stuff she read about me on the internet, she didn't need anything to add to her worry. 

"I have a surprise for you!" She said, and she snapped her fingers like she always did once she remembered something she'd forgotten. "We're going to the beach. I want to use the beach house you bought a lot now since, for this moment, you don't have shows or movies to worry about and you won't have to model again for a few more weeks."

I perked up immediately. Our summer beach house was virtually the only thing my mother let me buy with my own money. At least, the only thing that she'd use, too. Her parents used to rent it out until they died, which is where she'd hunkered down when her uncle died. She stayed there for a week to wallow in her misery before she had to rejoin society, lest she blow all her money to stay there. She'd met my dad there, on her last night. She never had the nerve to go back until I was around six, also around the time of her and Gabe's first year of being married. She tried to make it back every year, but it was a large and expensive beach house in the Hamptons, and cost a lot of money to rent out, even for a night. 

By the time I was 12, I had a pretty good understanding of life and why the number in my bank account could actually be a great thing, even if it was accompanied by a countdown for how long it would be until I turned 18. I'd asked Danny to look into buying it out, and low and behold, the woman who owned the property was looking to sell, as she was close to having blown all of the money she'd inherited from her dead Oil-Tycoon husband and didn't feel the need to care for it anymore. She was all too happy to sell it to me. 

But I'd done all of that behind my mother's back and she almost boycotted going that year entirely, before deciding this would be the only thing she'd relent on. She strong armed me into an agreement that I'd never spend so much money on something that had to do with her again, however, and not wanting to see the disappointed look on her face due to not being able to provide me the same luxuries I could provide myself, I relented. She knew how much it meant to me, being able to go to the house every year with her, and since I'd already bought it, there wasn't much else she could do. 

"Uh, when?!" I asked, almost jumping up and down. 

"Once I get packed, we will be ready to go. You already have your suitcase of clothes and things here, so all I need to do is get my stuff ready. I'll take your step-father's car and you can take your Harley."

Quick bit of information: I kinda have a car obsession. So I own many cars, however, they are all stationed at our beach house in East Hampton. I wasn't about to temp Asshole Gabe into wanting to drive my luxury cars. The only vehicle of my own that was always near, was my Harley, which I knew made my mom happy. I tended not to use any of the cars I bought around her, for the same disappointed look reasons. 

Gabe appeared in the doorway and growled, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?" 

I wanted to punch him, but I met my mom's eyes and I understood she was offering me a deal: be nice to Gabe for a little while. Just until she was ready to leave for East Hampton. Then we would get out of here. 

"I was on my way, honey," she told Gabe. "We were just talking about the trip." 

Gabe's eyes got small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?" 

"Pig," I muttered. "He won't let us go, will he?" 

"Of course he will. He doesn't have control over you anyways," my mother said evenly. I tried to ignore her emphasis on 'you.' "Your step-father is just worried about money. That's all. Besides," she added, "Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip. I'll make him enough seven-layer dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

"Money," I scoffed under my breath. "I bought the damn house. The only money we spend going is the gas money we use getting there and back." 

Gabe softened a bit. "So this money for your trip... it comes out of your clothes budget, right?" 

"Yes, honey," my mother said placatingly, settling her hand on my arm to keep me from pouncing. 

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back?" 

"We'll be very careful." 

Gabe scratched his double chin. "Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip... And maybe if the girl apologizes for interrupting my poker game." 

Maybe if I cut off your dick with a butter knife, I thought. And make you sing soprano for a week. 

But my mom's eyes warned me not to make him mad. 

Why she put up with this guy was beyond me. I cleared my throat quietly, preparing for the intense acting energy I was about to exert. Red leather, yellow leather. Red leather, yellow leather.

"I'm so terribly sorry," I lied, "for interrupting your incredibly important poker game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrowed and for a moment I doubted my acting and lying skills, but then he rolled his eyes. I guess his tiny brain couldn't detect the intense sarcasm in my voice. 

"Yeah, okay. Whatever," he settled on. He went back to his game. 

"Thank you, Allie. Let me go get ready. Get your helmet and keys and I'll be right back."

She left to go pack and make Gabe his seven-layer dip. 

We were ready to leave an hour later. Gabe watched me roll mine and my mom's suitcases down to his car and kept watching as I got my bike ready. 

He yelled down to me once I finished putting my mom's suitcase in the trunk. "There better not be a single scratch on that car once you bring it back or there'll be hell to pay. I'll have a beer bottle with your name on it waiting. I'm sure it'll love getting broken over your head and I'm sure you remember how that felt last time."

I wasn't going to be driving, but I doubt he cared. It'd be my fault because I was easy to push around and had a lot more money than my mother. He'd find something to blame on me and that beer bottle would connect with my skull at some point. As long as he could hold my mother over my head, he had the upper hand. 

Watching him lumber back toward the apartment building, I got so mad I did something I can't explain. As Gabe reached the doorway, I made the hand gesture I'd seen Grover make on a few different occasions while we were in school. I thought it was a sort of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over my heart, then a shoving movement toward Gabe. 

The screen door slammed shut so hard it whacked him in the ass and sent him flying up the stair-case as if he'd been shot from a cannon. Maybe it was just the wind or some freak accident with the hinges, but I didn't stay long enough to find out.

Once I saw my mom walking towards me I got on my bike, put my helmet on, and was ready to drive as soon as she'd opened her door. 

Our beach house was very large and sat right on the beach. It was perched right at the end of the neighborhood and was easily the largest house in a couple-mile radius. There was a shitton of rooms, most of which weren't used often, so there would be a few cobwebs if it wasn't taken care of. The beach had white sand, the same shade as my hair and the seas were normally pretty cold. 

So, of course, I loved the place. 

It calmed me down in a way nothing else could. The water hitting my feet made me feel like I could do anything. Like the feeling you get when you walk out of a movie theater and you feel like you could conquer the world, except I don't feel like I'm in a daze. It's quite the opposite, actually. I feel wide awake. 

As we got closer, my mom always seemed to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the color of the sea. I didn't even have to be in the same car as her to know that. 

We got there at sunset, opened all the windows (well, not all the windows. Mostly the ones in the living room and on the main floor), and went through our usual cleaning routine. We walked on the beach, fed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.

Should I explain the blue food?

Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This— along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano— was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, which wasn't shown often, but did remind me that I did get a few things from her. My polite streak was proof of that. 

When it got dark, we made a fire. We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom told me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She told me about the books she wanted to write someday when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

I told her I'd get her a laptop and an editor and a publisher right then and there, but she would hear nothing of it. If she wanted to be an author, it wouldn't be because of her famous daughter. She'd probably use a fake last name so it wouldn't seem like she was leeching off of me. I asked her why she wanted to go the hard route and she smiled and shook her head at me; the 'you'll understand when you're older' went without saying. 

Eventually, I finally got enough nerve to ask about my father, one of the few things that was always on my mind when we were here. My mom's eyes went misty and I almost took the comment back, but I stood my ground. She took two blue jelly beans from the bag. I figured she'd tell me the things she always did, but I never got tired of hearing them. 

"He was kind, Allie," she said. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But he was also gentle. You look exactly like him, it's almost uncanny. If you were to style your hair the same way he did his and had the same physique, you two would be impossible to tell apart. You have his white hair and those pretty green-blue eyes. And you definitely didn't get your height from me." 

That was true. I'd passed my mother in height a while ago. She was very short and petite, and while I did get the petite from her, I was also tall and curvy. 

"I... I wish he could see you now, Allie. He'd be so damn proud."

I was shocked. For one, I'd never heard my mother curse. Ever. And secondly, I couldn't quite decide what was so special about a 16-year-old girl who got sexualized on the internet, in public, and pretty much everywhere else. Sure I'd quickly become one of the highest paid actors and models in the world and just that previous September I released the most streamed album of the year, but what would that really mean in the long run? Hollywood is wishy-washy on the best of days, and fame is fickle. The countdown was nearing on a year and two months. It would only get worse the more I did. The more people who knew my name meant a lot more trouble for me. On dark days, I wondered if the trouble was worth it. 

"Did he... stick around? After I was born, I mean," I asked, trying very hard to keep my voice from cracking. It was close, but I think I did it. 

"He... he came to see you a few times. His work was very serious and he didn't have a lot of time. But he saw you." 

I nodded slowly, taking it in. I guessed that was why I'd remembered something about him. I wasn't about to tell my mother that, though. She was already on the verge of crying as it was. I felt like that would set her over the edge. 

"I was going to ask you... I got offered by Warner Brothers to do another movie. They wouldn't start filming for a while, but they wanted to go ahead and get the cast done. It's filming in Georgia, though. They said they might be able to pull a few strings and move it to New York, but Georgia would be ideal. Would you be okay with that?" 

"I don't know, Allie. There's a lot I need to think about right now. I'd feel better if you didn't leave. You know how worried I get every time you board a plane."

"I know. It's just, this one's... different. I think it would... I really want—"

"You know," my mom said, standing up slowly, "I'm getting a little tired. I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Please don't stay up too late. We can talk in the morning."

I just nodded and my mother left me to my thoughts. The wind picked up a little, and my hair flew from my shoulder to my back. My head fell to my right hand as I tried to rub away the headache that was starting to form. 

I only looked up when I felt someone watching me. I could've sworn it was coming from the ocean, but I didn't stay long enough to figure out if anything was there. I was not trying to be the stupid one in the horror movie. No thanks. I brushed my hair with my fingers as I walked into the house.

That night I had an awful dream, shocker shocker. 

It started with a whole bunch of memories I'd tried to suppress of all the bad things that had happened to me throughout my life. 

During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked me on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed me when I told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head. 

Before that— a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

And there was one time when I was thirteen and I'd seen a huge lion prowling the edge of a forest we were filming near. I noticed every time the camera would move in its direction, it'd retreat back to the forest and then come back out once the camera moved. Finally, it just leaped away after hours of us filming and no one getting near it. 

Then, the dream changed. 

It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle, were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagle's wings. As they fought, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice chuckled somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I ran toward them, knowing I had to stop them from killing each other, but I was running in slow motion. I knew I would be too late. Both animals lunged at each other and before I could see what happened I woke with a start. 

Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery. 

With the next thunderclap, my mom woke. She ran into my room, eyes wide, and said, "Hurricane." 

I knew that was crazy. Hurricanes were never seen around here this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on end. 

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice— someone yelling, pounding on our front door.

My mother grabbed both of our suitcases and ran to the front door, a floor down from us. I followed her down to the foyer. 

She threw my suitcase to me and slung open the door. 

Grover stood there, out of breath and looking like he needed a seat. However, he looked different. What the fuck...?

"Searching all night," Grover gasped. "What were you thinking?" 

My mother looked at me in terror— not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come

"Allie!" she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

I was frozen, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing. 

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?" 

I was too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here, by himself, in the middle of the night. 

My mom looked at me sternly and spoke in a tone she'd never used before: "Allie. Tell me now!" 

I stammered something about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stared at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

She grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to Gabe's car, pushing past Grover on her way. She took my suitcase and threw me into the driver's seat. Grover got in the back, while my mom ran to the passenger's side and sat down with my suitcase in her lap. 

She didn't even let me ask a question. She just put the keys in the ignition and said, "drive. Now. I'll tell you where to go. Take a left up here."

Now that we were in the car and I had more things to worry about, I finally processed many things. Grover's muscular disease finally made sense to me. Because he didn't have legs. Well, he did, but they weren't human legs. They were more like farm animal legs, all thrown together with fucking hooves.

*    *    *

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