#i am wise and respected OR i am a history nerd. it's anyone's guess really

[dramatic-dolphin]

making gendered 3rd person singular pronouns for your conlang? boring. making a ton of 1st person singular pronouns that denote a bunch of things which can be gender (but is usually not)? NOW we're talking.

[four-rabbit]

A perfect birthday

This is for the day 4 of the @dukexietyweek: Parents.

Hope you enjoy it!

Summary: This is the first one of Janus' birthday that they are celebrating together since Virgil and Remus adopted her and Virgil wants it to be perfect.

Characters: Remus sanders, Virgil sanders, Logan Sanders, Janus sanders, mentions to Patton Sanders

Warnings: swearing (some of it in front of middle schoolers), something that is not exactly a panic attack but could have evolved into one.

Obs: Janus is a trans girl here and uses exclusively she/her pronouns.

"Who do you want us to invite?" Besides Logan, I mean" Virgil asked as the family finished lunch, looking down at Janus, who shrugged.

Obs: Janus is a trans girl here and uses exclusively she/her pron

"Dunno. I'm not really friends with anyone besides him" 

"Oh, you could invite Patton! You like him, don't you?" Remus suggested excitedly, looking between his husband and their daughter, waiting for approval. Janus fixed her gaze on her food, embarrassed.

"I mean, whatever, he's just nice to me, but he's nice to everyone. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even like me" 

"Well, then it's a great opportunity for him to get to know how cool you're!" 

"It's supposed to be my birthday, dad, I'm supposed to have fun, not be trying to impress some boy" she replied sharply. The kitchen stayed in a heavy silence for some seconds before Virgil said, softly.

"We just want you to make friends." she sighed.

"I know. But people already don't really like me. I'm new, I'm weird, I'm trans-" Virgil and Remus exchanged a worried look as Janus looked down sadly. 

"Hey" Remus started, putting a hand on her shoulder "Being weird and trans fucking rules, remember that, but we get it, school can be scary and making friends can be even scarier" 

"Especially if you're trying to be friends with middle schoolers. They are the devil" Virgil agreed and Janus chuckled. 

"Maybe we can keep the long list of guests for my next birthday, how about that? Then I won't be giving you guys too much work" she suggested.

"Oh, don't worry about that, we got everything under control, Remus, did you order the cake?"

"Was I supposed to?"

"... We got most things under control" she rolled her eyes playfully.

"Hm. How about that: I'll call Logan and order a pizza, you guys find me a gift. Suggestion: money" Janus quickly decided, putting her plate on the sink and going to her room, already picking her phone to call Logan. Virgil immediately turned to Remus as she entered her room. 

"I can't believe you forgot the cake. This needs to be perfect! We can't ruin her first birthday with us!" 

"Hey, emo, don't worry, it will be fine! We don't need to be perfect, man, as long as she has fun"

"I know, I know, I just- being a dad is hard and I can't stop worried that we'll do the wrong thing it's already hard because she is older and we need her to adapt and we know she had a tough life before the adoption and I just want to be there for her and-"

"Virgil, breathe with me" Remus said calmly, putting a hand on his husband's shoulder and guiding him through a resting exercise for some minutes until Virgil got better.

"Thanks" he whispered. Remus held his hands, looking his partner in the eyes.

"Being a parent is hard, dude, it's on the job description, but we'll get there. Together, the three of us. Also, if it serves as any consolation, we literally cannot fuck up as much as yours parents" Virgil chucked.

"Or yours"

"Oh yeah, talk about shitty people"

"I'm glad we don't have to deal with them anymore"

"So am I. Hey, about that cake, we won't be having a personalized one, sorry for that, but how about I pick one up at the supermarket? It's better than nothing" 

"Oh so you're not totally useless after all" Virgil provoked, with a grin "Yeah, bring some snacks too, I'll try to clean the house a little bit while you're gone" 

"Cool. Let me just wash the dishes-"

"Look at him, offering himself to do chores" Virgil commented sarcastically. 

"Oh shut up, I'll just do it and then I'll go" 

"'Kay" he smiled, messing Remus' hair fondly and giving him the plates.

•••

When Remus got back the house was already cleaner and Janus' weird nerd friend was already there.

"Oh finally! Your dad is home, he brought food!" Virgil announced, relieved to be able to back away from the videogame where the kids were destroying him. Middle schoolers really are the devil, even the nice ones. 

"Yeah, I sure hope he did" Janus replied, not even looking away from the screen. Her dad rolled his eyes, going to open the door and let his husband in, who carried three plastic bags and a chocolate cake.

"I'm here guys, you can start the party now!"

"Of course. We were playing some video games while we waited for you"

"Yeah, wanna play with us? I didn't want to say anything, but" Janus put her hand in front of her mouth as if she was going to tell a secret, but said as loudly as always: "because dad Virgil sucks at this" 

"Hey! Show some respect! I haven't played in a long time"

"Fuck yeah girl, but don't you cry about it when I beat you, oh hey Logan, sup!" 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Storm."

"Oh, I bought you something!" He grabbed one of the bags as Virgil organized everything at the table, coming back with a jar full of jam. "I knew you liked it so I bought" Logan's eyes were almost shining.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Storm!"

"He got something but I don't? It's like you don't even care about me!" Janus said dramatically. 

"I did buy you something, I- you know what" he grabbed his wallet, picking a one hundred dollars bill from there and handling it to Janus, who accepted the gift with a wide smile "Use it wisely"

"Thanks, dad!" 

"Hey, I bought you something too, an actual gift, by the way" Remus subtly showed his middle finger to his husband, who smiled and grabbed a small box, wrapped in gift paper, handing it to Janus, who immediately opened it, only to find an eyeshadow palette. She didn't answer immediately, slowly getting to her feet and hugging Virgil, whispering:

"Thanks" said genuinely.

"I can teach you how to do makeup! I was really good at each when I was trying to be a cis girl!" Remus suggested right after. She rolled her eyes, but didn't stop smiling.

"It's not a competition, you dumb old man. But thanks anyway. You guys are cool" 

"Oh, I see that it's time for the gifts, in this case, here is mine, Janus, I hope you appreciate it," Logan added, grabbing a heavy book from his backpack and giving it to his best friend. It was called 'Philosophy through History'. "We can talk about it at school" 

"I'm waiting for it, you big nerd" Logan opened one of his rare smiles. 

"Nice" Remus grabbed a bowl filled with Doritos, starting to eat it "What do you guys wanna do? How about a game?" 

"Oh, we could play chess!" Logan suggested.

"Chess? How the fuck do you even know how to play chess? Oh, shit, don't tell your mom I said that. I mean, the "fuck" part, you can tell that I asked how you know how to play chess, she probably already thinks I'm dumb so whatever"

"Mr. Storm, if I was to tell my mom everytime that you swore in front of me, she probably wouldn't allow me to come here anymore" 

"Yeah, right. How about we play poker? Everyone knows how to play poker, right?" Logan looked at him dead in the eye.

"Mr. Storm, I'm ten. However, I'm friends with Janus, so yes, of course I know how to play poker" 

"Yes! What are we going to bet?!" Janus exclaimed, smiling devilishly. 

"Cake slices" Virgil was the one to answer. She seemed disappointed, but quickly accepted it.

"Yeah, ok, I'll grab the cards, oh Logan, come with me, I totally forgot to show you a book I just bought, you'll love it, I can lend it to you if you want to"

"Alright" as the kids went to their room, Remus turned to his husband.

"The makeup was a great idea, you know?"

"Yeah. I would have liked for my parents to support me when I was her age. Would have made it easier to come to terms with my gender" 

"I feel you, man. See, we can do it" Remus said, holding his husband's hand. 

"I guess we aren't that bad" 

"Yeah" Remus smiled, planting a soft kiss on Virgil's lips, who smiled too. 

"I'm going to destroy you at poker"

"I would love to see you try" 

[tortoisesforhire]

Fic a Thon Day 2

Letters to Superman

Kara teaches Clark about Krypton via letter writing. She is somewhat successful. In more ways than one.

Dear Clark,

You asked me to tell you about Krypton. Well, here goes nothing! I know uncle Jor-El sent his mind capsule with you as a guide but you can only program so much into a limited space, and there's more to a world than history and science.

You were a miracle baby. Did I ever tell you that? The first naturally born baby in over three centuries. Our scientists believed we'd lost the ability long ago but, there you were. Father always did say Jor-El was the smart one. Of course, Jor-El was a biologist and Father was a botanist but still. He always used to tell me I was meant for great things. I used to think he peaked at my gene-code and was trying to give me hints. On Krypton you're not born, not in the traditional sense anyway. You're grown using the genetic material from your parents and engineered to your greatest potential. We were very concerned with that; potential. To be our best selves. So, when you're born you have your whole life already laid out for you. Your career, social class, even who you'll marry. Although that's a bit less strict science and more woo-woo in my opinion. Mother used to say Rao had tied red strings of destiny to the inside of our ribs to lead us to our perfect match. I liked that idea better than being genetically engineered to love a specific person at first sight.

I know how that sounds to someone who didn't grow up there. But Krypton was utopia compared to other planets. Sure we had our faults, which of course led to our destruction. Humans have strange ideas about free will. Like it's the be all end all of happiness. We had free will to a point; you operated within your own will in the circle in which you were placed. We made our own choices, free to make mistakes, but the structure of our society limited those mistakes a great deal. We had no poverty, no issue with world hunger. Everyone fulfilled a purposeful function that gave them personal satisfaction while also benefiting society as a whole. That probably invokes some strange sci-fi robot dystopian image for you, nerd that you are. But it was what it was.

I still dream about it. The violet oceans of Turan, the Yalaran blossoms that grew outside my bedroom window, the smell of the wind in the hot season. I dream of day trips to the Haloran valley, swimming in the lake and Cara-Uam. The sound of Ora's laughter. I miss the sky. It was bigger than on Earth, wider and deeper. You could see the stars better. I miss our constellations; Saroium and Ulapturus, Calamara and Hamam Ura. We lived on the edge of Argo City, next to the Terraform compound were Father worked, trying to find a way for Kryptonians to inhabit other planets. If only he had succeeded.

Tuam moro, it means 'here are my thoughts'. As you know Krypton was centuries ahead of Earth in terms of technology. Holograms, voice messaging across interplanetary lines, the sort of stuff that only exists in science fiction here. That was reality for us. However, letter writing, tuam moro, was considered to be a gesture of great respect. If you wanted to make a good impression, or express deep emotion or show someone how much you trusted them; you wrote a letter. By hand. We had to practice in school. I used to hate it, I could never understand what the point was when you could just call someone and speak face to face.

I remember once, in academy, my best friend Ban-Ko would write little notes and pass them to me. Silly things, nonsense to distract me when I was frustrated, make me laugh. Mada-Ra caught us once during a test and I thought for sure we'd end up on punishment duty in the fields. We were supposed to be writing to our Academy head to express our gratitude or something. But she just stood there, holding Ban-Ko's stupid note and smiling before she handed it back to me. She said; 'My husband used to write me notes just like these when we were young,' and then winked at me! I was so red in the face Ban called me Galoran for the rest of the day. (I don't know how well versed you are in Kryptonian astrology, but Galoran was the name of a red giant four kriniks from our solar system, we'd just learned about it and Ban thought we was funny.)

I was going to marry him. Or the Kryptonian version anyway, it's not entirely the same as it was on earth but it's generally similar. It's more of a formality than anything else. He was my Halanath Morum, which means 'my heart in you'. It's essentially just a genetic matching of our respective DNA but still, he was my best friend. He died before Krypton, after a terrorist attack at the Academy caused the ceiling to collapse. That was the year you were born, a year before Krypton died. I never thought I'd be able to live without him. Losing a match, even a young one like that, unconfirmed... most don't survive it. Father said it was because your body couldn't compensate for the loss of it's partner so eventually it just died. I didn't have much time to grieve of course, after that happened they discovered the terrorists had disrupted a planetary fissure and jump started magnum pari-am which is basically the apocalypse.

It was a long year, let's just say. The highlight of which being you by the way. Our very own miracle baby. It's sad Ora never got to meet you, she would have loved you. She was our cousin, Astra's daughter. She was tri-born; engineered from a three-way bond. Triangle marriages weren't uncommon per-se, but they were seen as special, and the children born from them even more so. She was something else; artisan track, completely beautiful. She was five years older than me and I adored her. She looked like Astra for the most part; long blonde hair and the same fine bone structure. But when she smiled she was the spitting image of In-Ra. She had their eyes too, soft and brown with little crinkles at the corner when she laughed. In-Ra was my favorite relative, born with a genetic defect; a mistake in the DNA coding which resulted in a non-gender. At least that's what Father said. But In-Ra was beautiful, and funny and so full of love. You couldn't help but adore them, and who else could have put up with two people as stiff necked and stubborn as Astra and Non? Ora was just like them. She was slotted to travel to the neighboring system to study the masters in the Tan quadrant after she finished at the training school. She died in an earthquake in Haloran Jungle two years before you were born. In-Ra was never the same.

Well this is a gloomy letter, sorry about that! I'm sure you would much rather talk about the good things on Krypton than the sad stuff. I know! Your mother, Lara, she used to collect these beautiful little figurines, they were of fidiha, which are sort of like horses only they have two tails and they're gem colored. She had so many of them, all in this little room at their house. Tiny exquisit carved ones made out of jade rock or matekite, even one made out of wood from Trinia; a forest planet not far from ours. She had this one in particular; it was all black and a little shiny with bright blue gems for eyes. It was so life like. I used to run my fingers over the tail whenever I was at their house. She said it was given to her by her mother, who had been from the east. Apparently she was descendent from the Tilian Line, or the old Royalty. The Monarchy was dissolved centuries ago of course, but the bloodline never quite ran out. So I guess that makes you a prince huh? Lucky.

How is Metropolis these days anyway? I haven't been there since last Christmas when the General showed up and got in a fight with Lois. Lovely man the General. Really, what a riot. If I never see him again it'll be too soon. I met Jimmy today. Thank you for, you know, outing me to him. Appreciate it. How is it okay again for you to tell your best friend about the whole alien thing but I'm not allowed to tell mine? Winn is way more trustworthy than Jimmy is! Just because James is unfairly good looking does not make him better at keeping secrets.

Diana say's I should just tell him and damn the consequences and really, who am I to argue with Wonder Woman? Winn deserves to know, he's been my best friend for over five years. It feels weird not telling him, he's practically family at this point. Besides, if Bruce gets mad then I'll just blame Diana and let them duke it out. You know he's totally scared of her right? Wise man. I mean, I can bench press a bus and I'm scared of Diana. I know you like to pretend you're not but we can all see through that. Everyone is scared of Diana, she's terrifying.

Alex is here now. I have a date tonight, some online thing. Eliza said I should try and ‘get out there’ or whatever. I tried to explain that I don’t date but she wasn’t really listening. She gets sort of weird when I talk about Krypton or, y’know, the fact that I’m an alien. I think she likes to pretend I’m ‘normal’.

I know she's just worried about me but honestly, it's a little suffocating. It's one thing to have the League walk on eggshells around me like I'm a bomb or something but this? I'm not a naive little girl anymore, if I ever was. In spite of what you all seem to think I am entirely capable of taking care of myself. And what's so great about being normal anyway? I can fly! Being able to fly kicks the pants off 'normal' any day. I just wish she'd leave me alone about the whole dating thing. I've been resigned to being a cat lady for years now, or a dog lady. Bunny lady? I could totally be a bunny lady.

Alex is glaring at me now so I must leave. Wish me luck! And seriously Clark, if you ever want to talk about Krypton just ask me. It’s not like I have anyone else to talk to about it.

Balarath Iri-Rao By Rao's Light Kara Zor-El

[mirkstrolls]

What sort of pairings (romantic or platonic) are you *looking* to write? Alternatively: what would be your ideal dynamics for each of your chars in their available quadrants?

Old-ask answering, hot dang!

Okay, I’m always a sucker for anything involving emotional depth, especially since a lot of my current threads are more fun-adventure-times rather than actual major plot pieces, but hmm, let’s try to be more specific here…

For one thing: blackrom. None of my trolls have or have had a kismesis, with the exception of Widsth’s occasional flings and Taz’s weird semi-flirtation with Umetto, and none of them have a conclusively-planned black ship, I don’t think? And boy do they all need one! Plus I need to learn how to write blackrom better, since I’m not sure how to at the mo. This goes for ashenrom too; I’m interested in exploring those dynamics, which is why I’m super excited that Vide/Riccin is imminent and there may be an auspisticism for Taz on the horizon. 

I will always be in favor of more pale fluff, too! And not just piling and feelings-jamming and angsty soul-baring and the pale-honeymoon stuff, either (though I am a wreck for that, as mentioned, I will DIE), but pale couples out and about, doing plot-relevant things, while generally helping each other function better. 

But like… also. I really want Vide to have more friends who are 100% not into her romantically and never will be. Several of her past “friends” have turned out only to be interested in her due to having a crush on her, whether pale or flushed, and she feels pressured and anxious when she can’t reciprocate those feelings. It’d be really nice for her to have a circle of supportive people who don’t want anything from her but platonic friendship! Friends who can joke and gossip with her,  go shopping with her, shut her down when she gets Weirdly Pale, whatever. Just normal platonic stuff, in a variety of dynamics! 

I also want Genuine Friends for Taz, and horrible musician or historian friends for Weeds (and Genuine Quadrants for both), but they’re better set up for friendship than Vide is at the moment.

OH ALSO I would love to backplot ex-quads for Weeds, and maybe a few for Taz – she’s dated around a bit, he’s flirted-and-jilted his way through most of the music scene, the history scene, and the obscure-translations scene, both of them should have exes of varying levels of amicability out there.

Second part of the question was also interesting, answered below.

We’re going to say that “available” means “not actively dating someone right now,” even if that quad has been plotted, so Vide♥♦ and Taz♥ are currently unavailable. Also, keep in mind that these are what I think would be best, off the top of my head, not accounting for what my trolls could offer (as opposed to what they need) -- so they’re obviously allowed lots of wiggle-room

Vide: 

♣: Definitely someone who would take the quadrant pretty seriously and let her meddle at full capacity: someone who’s willing to spend a lot of time with her, since Vide gets horribly domestic with all her quads. But also someone who will meddle back and help her out with her blackrom woes! Vide’s very bad at blackrom and she could use someone to help her loosen up and release her inner bratty side. I guess I’m looking for a sort of teasing-but-affectionate, almost sibling-like relationship here?

♠: The thing about Vide is that she has some very specific blackrom issues springing from… not really knowing what it is or how it works? So ideally, she’d date someone who could go slow with her and maybe even be a bit domestic -- as I said above, Vide gets very strongly attached to all her quadrants. They’d also have to cool it on the violence aspect of the relationship, putting more emphasis on verbal arguments or passive aggression and pranks. Not that Vide wouldn’t want to physically fight them (because she would) or that she wouldn’t do well with someone who would push her to be stronger (again, she really would!), but a super-intense, hate-makeouts-with-lots-of-teeth-every-five-minutes kind of relationship would be likely to scare her off -- or scare her into flipping pale. She has to be able to win sometimes! And physical fights with people are not something she feels she can win at.

Taz: 

♦: I’d say, someone relatively calm and rational, who can get her to simmer down when she’s anxious or angry and curb her more self-destructive tendencies without alienating her for them. That might need to come later, though; at this point she’s badly in need of someone to talk to without fear of rejection, honestly.

♣: Taz is pretty good at being (bluntly, aggressively) ashen anyway, from long practice with the gang. For someone to actually get in a relationship with her, there’d have to be some reciprocity -- helping her out with her Umetto troubles, mediating tense business meetings with other gangs, maybe even setting her up on dates. I actually haven’t thought about this relationship a whole lot, because Taz just plain doesn’t hateflirt much!

♠: Not Umetto. Ha, but really, she might do better with a rival gang leader or someone on the other side of the law -- or even someone not related to the smuggling business at all: the trouble with being pitch for Umetto is that Taz is not really a domestic kismesis, and she can’t compete with him the way she wants to in a blackrom without shooting herself in the foot. So a Jets vs Sharks or Javert vs Valjean relationship could be fun with this one! However, any relationship based on work has the potential to screw up her profits, and she’s Very Not Okay with that. Honestly, I think it’d be more interesting if her kismate didn’t even know she was a smuggler: they’re competing with her in sailing, or they’re a rival coffeeshop, or something like that. Taz’s life is pretty high-stakes and this might be a fun way to lower those stakes. (Okay, so maybe I just want escalating coffeeshop wars, don’t judge)

Widsth (a.k.a DATE SOMEONE ALREADY): With nearly all of his quadrants, there really needs to be a friendship there first in order to give the romantic relationship staying power. Because his definition of “attractive” is so broad, because he’s like 25% in some kind of love with all of his friends anyway, it could pretty much be anyone! But this is about my ideal dynamics, so, hm.

♥: I kind of want him to date a lowblood! Particularly in this quadrant, since Widsth all but worships his matesprits, and I’d like him to end up with someone whose existence forces him to confront both his casteist beliefs and his weird courtly-love expectations of redrom, with its ideal of an unattainable, remote highblood beauty for a matesprit. Additionally, they’d need to have some common ground interest-wise (in music or history or adventure or storytelling) and be able to keep up with him on his travels, for his interest not to wane as it has in the past.  So: someone unpretentious but with an active interest in being involved in his life, and either someone who will travel with him, or someone who he’d be in love with enough to keep coming back for – but the latter is very unlikely. 

♦: You gotta find the fine balance between loving Widsth for the dramatic, extravagant nerd he is without trying to stifle him and not letting him jump off a cliff because he and Riccin think it’s funny. Weeds is not emotionally in distress very often, but he is very bad at coping with it when he is, and also very bad at not doing distressing things like cliff jumping or making out with a stranger in the bathroom of a bar for an hour on the off chance that they might be serendipitous. He desperately needs to be reigned in -- just not smothered.

♣: If we’re going for Mirk-Brand Meddling Auspisticism™, this might be the person to smack him upside the head when he starts flirting with inappropriate people again, or possibly make apologies to the people he flirts with. Of all his quadrants, this is the one with the most leeway for difference in interests: you don’t have to be into music/history/melodrama to get ashen with Weeds, you just have to be able to put up with him and bat him away from bad decisions once in a while, maybe be that cold splash of reality on his rosy-eyed romanticism 

♠: There has to be real competition here, so a musician would honestly probably be best? Or someone with lots of history knowledge, anyone he could have a meaningful contest of skills with. They’d have to be genuinely skilled and able to keep up with him, so that he could respect them while still wanting to beat them this time for sure!!! I don’t imagine they’d get into physical fights very often! Sometimes, yeah, but at his heart, Widsth is not a fighter, he’s a bard. Might be fun for this one to be a lowblood too, but I don’t actually care about caste or gender! 

[kaleidoscopephilosophy-blog]

Wasted Time

“Well, yeah, it’s Saturday night! Of course I’m going out.”

After all, only the nerds and the losers stay in on weekends.  If you’re not getting absolutely smashed every Friday and Saturday night, what are you doing with your life?  As they say, you only have the college experience once, and I’m sure as hell not going to blow it.

“Well, I was thinking, maybe, just this once, we could try something different, maybe something new and exciting, like--” says Veronica.

“Like going to that huge party at Sigma Pi everyone’s been talking about?  It’s gonna be  absolutely lit, trust me,” I interject.

Justin and Richie nod vigorously in agreement, and Richie spills some beer on his shirt.

“Aw, fuck, man,” he grumbles.  “Not again!”

“You fuckin’ klutz,” laughs Justin, elbowing Richie, who spills more beer.

“Shut up, dickhead!” says Richie, shoving Justin.  Justin pushes back, and a sluggish shoving match ensues.

“Guys, stop it!” Veronica squeals, forcing herself between the two sweaty young men.  They glare at each other, then move to opposite sides of the dorm room.  Richie quickly downs his beer and grabs another, popping it open and pouting.  Justin goes back to playing beer pong with Olivia, Susan, and Mary.  Mary edges away from Justin when he stands a little too close to her.

“Look, I get that you’re excited about this party, but we’ve gone to a frat party every weekend night for the past two months!  Doesn’t it ever start to get a bit stale for you?” says Veronica.

I look at her incredulously, exchanging glances with Victor and Richie, who smirk back at me.

“Stale? Are you kidding? Boundless booze and breathtaking broads as far as the eye can see… to me, that’s paradise,” I reply.  Richie laughs.  “I would party every night if I could.  Hey, Justin, pass me another beer, would ya?”

As Justin tosses me a cold one, Veronica opens her mouth to respond.

“Yeah, ‘paradise.’  Huge, hairy guys grabbing at your body and drooling on your hair in a sweltering room with music blasting at some ungodly high volume… it doesn’t get much better than that, does it, Aaron?”

“Hey, you looked like you were having fun last night!  Who was that guy you hooked up with?  Michael?” I say.

“Matthew.  And ew, no!  He was disgusting!  I had to physically push him away multiple times before he took the hint,” she says.  “Besides, I haven’t hooked up with anyone since Jason, so stop making up things that didn’t happen.”

“You really should get yourself back out there, Ver,” Mary yells over from the beer pong table.  “You’re hot! It’d be hard to find a guy who wouldn’t want to hook up with you, and you know it!”

Veronica blushes, and I can’t help but stare at her tantalizing brown eyes.  I swear, they’re like whirlpools, pulling in whatever hapless young sailor happens to be passing by and spitting him out whole before he can even sink past the surface.  Maybe one day, if she’d just give me a chance, she would finally see that I--

“Thanks, boo, but you know I can’t just do that with a total stranger… it’s too weird for me.  Call me crazy, but that’s just how I am,” says Veronica.

“Whatever you say, girlie,” yells Olivia, sinking a shot over at the pong table.  As she shrieks with delight and high fives Susan, I take careful note of her voluptuous figure.  I can’t wait to get to the party, where I know I’ll be surrounded by dozens of scantily-clad Olivias.  It’s genius that frats let them in for free.  Thank the lord sororities can’t have parties.  What a genius system.  It’s like a fuckin’ harem every night!  Take your pick!  Enjoy the buffet!

“Well, you can’t complain anyway,” I say.  “You guys get in for free.  We have to pay.”

“Still, frats are gross,” says Veronica.  “If I were a boy, I wouldn’t pay to get into one of those pissholes.”

“You claim to be a feminist, Veronica,” says Victor, “but I haven’t heard you say a peep about the blatant misogyny inherent in the fraternity system.  Same with you, Susan.”

Susan flips him off.

“Oh, shut up, Victor,” I say.  “I’m too drunk for your big words, and no one wants to talk about fuckin’ politics and shit right now.”

“Dude, it’s a serious issue!  In my eyes, at least, but no one wants to talk about it because everyone would rather just get drunk and have sex every weekend without thinking twice,” he says.

“That’s exactly right, Victor,” says Justin, grinning as he sinks yet another shot into a red solo cup.  He tries to hug Mary, but she pushes him away, grimacing.  Justin shrugs, and Mary takes another shot of tequila.

“Dude, admit it, you’re just bitter because you don’t drink and you can’t get girls,” says Richie, drunkenly attempting to open his sixth beer of the evening.

“You know I’m saving myself for marriage!” exclaims Victor, blushing.  Everyone bursts out in laughter.

“What? When I told Father Flanagan, he said I was making a very intelligent choice, and that I’m ‘truly wise beyond my years,’” Victor says smugly.  “Stop laughing!”

“I can’t believe you actually believe all that horseshit they force down your throat in church,” says Justin, sneering.  “Becoming an atheist was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and it makes listening to you people spew your fairy tale garbage fuckin’ hilarious!”

“I have a personal relationship with Christ, Justin,” says a steely Victor.  “And I think you could really benefit from one, too.”

“‘Personal fuckin’ relationship with fuckin’ Christ,’” says Justin, laughing hysterically.  “Oh, loving and merciful Lord, forgive Victor for being such a fuckin asshat!”

“Alright, alright, enough!” shouts Veronica, waving her arms in the air as if she is attempting to fly away.  “Let’s all just try to be friends, okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough politics and religion for a full month,” I add, grinning at Veronica.  She doesn’t return my smile.  Even in her angered state, she is so incredibly sexy.

“Alright, who’s ready to go?  We’ve been pre-gaming for almost two hours now,” says Susan impatiently.  Ah, pre-gaming.  Another absolutely genius invention.  Getting drunk before you actually get to the party saves so much time.  It lets you cut right to chase, jump right in, if you catch my drift.  You still drink at the party, of course, but you’ll already be drunk when you arrive.  Then comes either the post-game, or, even better, the coveted hook-up.

“Yeah, we can go now,” I say as Victor pushes past me, reaching for the door handle.

“Fuck all of you,” he says, flipping us off.  “I’m staying in tonight to watch SNL.”

“Whatever you say, man,” says Justin, laughing.  He bumps fists with Richie.

Victor shakes his head and slams the door.  I wait a few moments, then open it as we all file into the hallway.

“What the hell was his problem?” asks Olivia, looking puzzled.

“Something to do with him not being able to get girls,” says Justin, laughing.

“You don’t have to be such a dick all the time, you know,” says Veronica, frowning.

“He’s a fuckin’ Jesus freak, Veronica!  You heard him!” says Justin, gesturing in the general direction of Victor’s room.

“You should at least respect his beliefs, Justin,” she curtly replies, not making eye contact.

“Goddamn.  The world’s gone mad.  I need another beer,” says Justin, sighing loudly.

“So, anyway,” says Susan, attempting to ease the tension, “did I tell you guys about the guy who wore a gorilla suit to my Art History lecture on Thursday?”

“Wha-- no!  Do tell!” says Mary.

As Susan tells her story, I zone out as I stare at her perfect ass, hidden somewhere under those flowery green hippie pants.  She’s gorgeous, despite the fact that she never wears makeup or washes her long, curly brown hair.  She seems to be convinced she’s living in the 1960s; I mean, she wears a fucking dandelion in her hair nearly every day!  And she’s so smart, too.  Valedictorian of her high school, even though she’d never tell you.  She doesn’t really drink, though, and surprisingly, she’s not into weed, either.  She’s a bona fide hippie, but doesn’t smoke pot!  Unbelievable, I know.  It’s too bad, really.  Doesn’t ever hook up with guys, either.  It’s her life, I guess, and don’t get me wrong, I respect her choices!  I just don’t get it.

Before long, we make it to Sigma Pi.  The line’s a little long, but we’ve been hearing all week about how lit this party is supposed to be, so we decide to wait.  A few people step out of line; one of them is puking.  Pathetic, I know.

Finally, we get to the door.  As I reach into my wallet for ten dollars, the girls walk in.  The four frat bros at the door check each of them out, nodding with approval.  I envy these frat guys.  They have it all: a free ticket to parties every weekend, girls to hook up with whenever they want, and, best of all, a real, genuine brotherhood.  I kick myself for not rushing a frat this year.  Next semester, I vow to myself.

I hand one of the guys my $10, and he stamps my hand.  I walk in, flanked by Justin and Richie, and scan the basement for the bar.  The music is blasting, as expected, and the whole room reeks of weed.  For such a wonderful plant, marijuana really does smell terrible when it burns.  As we make our way through the sea of inebriated dancing students, I spot Mary and Olivia, but I don’t see the bar.

“Yo, dude, check out that girl over there,” says Richie, gesturing toward the corner of the room, where a tan latina dressed in all white is dancing like a fuckin’ stripper on a pole.  Why the hell is there a pole down here?  Only in college, I guess.

“Damn, bro,” says Justin, unable to avert his stare.  He makes brief eye contact with the latina, who winks and beckons him toward her.  In a matter of seconds, he is dancing beside her in a proximity that would make Victor’s Father Flanagan cringe.

“Looks like we lost him for the night,” remarks Richie, laughing.

“Yeah,” I say, only half paying attention to his comment.  “Hey, where’s the bar?  I need to chug a few beers.”

Some tall older guy with round John Lennon sunglasses who is passing by overhears me and points toward the far corner of the room, opposite of where Justin is getting his lap dance.

“It’s over there, brah,” he says.  “Hey, brah, you smoke?”  He is holding a blunt in his hand, and he pushes it in my direction.  I nod, staring at his bright red dreadlocks.  Only in college.

“Take a hit, brodie,” he says, grinning.

“Uh-- alright, man,” I stammer.  “Thanks.”  I take a hit and begin to cough, prompting a laugh from my new pal.

“You a freshman?” he asks, taking back his blunt.

“Yeah,” I answer.  He laughs again.

“I can tell,” he says, still grinning.  He takes another hit, then offers me the blunt for a second time.  I try again, this time managing not to break into a coughing fit like an idiot.  I turn around to see what Richie is making of the Bob-Marley-look-alike, but he isn’t there.  I do a quick scan of the room and spot him about twenty yards away, dancing with a very drunk frumpy blonde.

“Look, brah,” says Redlocks.  (Genius, I know.  Red + dreadlocks = Redlocks.)  “These bitches don’t want nothin’ to do with some awkward freshman.  You gotta have confidence, brodie.  Swagger.  Watch.”

Redlocks hands me his blunt and walks toward the stripper-dancer latina girl.  I pocket it and look on as he grabs her by the hips and pulls her away from Justin, who stares open-mouthed as she begins to grind on the very tall newcomer.  I can’t help but laugh.  Redlocks pulls her closer to him, and the two of them start making out.  He opens his eyes and winks at me, raising his right arm above the latina’s head and pointing at her as if to say, “Look, kid.  This is how you do it.”  Wow.  Maybe this guy does know what he’s talking about.  Just then, Justin spots me and stumbles over in a huff.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” he asks me angrily.  I can only point at Redlocks and the latina, awestruck by what has just transpired.

“So you saw what that fuckin’ asshole did with my girl?” he demands, his fists balled up.  “I was supposed to be the one making out with her, not that fuckin’ giraffe!”

“Dude, that guy is some kind of magician or something,” I say softly.  Justin doesn’t hear me.

“Fuck!” he yells.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

As he makes off for the bar, I wonder if I can manage to pull off what this genius with red dreadlocks has just accomplished.  Scanning the room, I spot my target in a matter of seconds.  She’s a petite brunette, complete with a round ass and a stunning rack.  She’s dancing on a short, stocky guy with a buzz cut, who is decked out in a green sleeveless shirt with a skull on the front and tan khaki shorts.  I make my way over, forcing myself to continue on my mission with every nervous step.  If Redlocks could do it, so can I.

She glances at me for a second, and I realize I am staring directly at her.  I avert my gaze, but continue to walk toward her until I am standing right next to her.  Before I make my move, I take a quick look around the room.  I see Mary and Olivia dancing with the frat guys who let us in over in the corner.  Justin is drinking a beer beside them, sulking.  Richie is still with that blonde, who looks like she may puke or pass out at any minute.  I take a deep breath, then turn toward my target and grab her by the hips.

Before I can pull her onto my waist, she slaps at my hands and pushes me away.  Shit.

“Hey!” yells the guy with whom she was just dancing.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I break into a cold sweat.  The guy advances toward me menacingly, and the petite brunette steps behind him.

“Uh, well, you see, I was just, um, trying to, uh--” I stammer, not sure how I will finish the sentence.  By now, one of his friends has walked up next to him, a nearly-empty beer bottle in hand.  Don’t ask me how I notice the amount of beer left in the bottle in the heat of the moment; I’m just very observant, I guess.  He glares at me, and they both take another step toward me.

“Trying to what, you fuckin’ perv?” he asks.  They take another step, and I realize I’m backed up against the wall.  A small crowd has started to form around us, perhaps sensing that a fight may be imminent.

“You think you can just walk up and grab someone’s girlfriend?” he asks, more loudly this time. “Huh?  You think you’re fuckin’ Donald Trump or somethin’?”

I laugh nervously, then quickly realize that was a mistake.  His face turns red with anger, and he grabs the beer bottle out of his friend’s hand.  My god.  He’s going to hit my with the bottle.  Why the fuck did I ever think this idea would work?  How the hell did Redlocks pull it off?  This is supposed to be the ‘college experience,’ isn’t it?  Everyone gets wasted out of his or her mind, then guys get to go out and fuck whatever girls they choose, right?  That’s how it’s supposed to be!  That’s how it is in the fuckin’ movies!

As my tirade of confused and angry thoughts culminates, I notice that a really big crowd has materialized around us.  Some of the frat guys are chanting for us to fight.  The guy I’ve pissed off thrusts the beer bottle over his shaved head and cathartically screams.  I notice a tattoo of a machine gun on his arm.  Lovely.  I also notice the toned muscle around that tattoo and gulp with trepidation.

“Aaron!”  Someone is yelling my name.  I look out into the crowd to try to find the source of the shouting.

“Aaron!  Aaron!”  It’s Veronica.  She is jumping up and down, frantically waving her arms in an effort to get my attention.  I make eye contact with her.  The fear in her eyes makes my stomach drop.

“Aaron!” she yells again, pointing.  “Duck!”

Before I can register what she has said, I feel a shattering explosion of pain as the beer bottle collides with my right temple.  I taste blood as it drips down into my mouth.  The room is spinning, and all I see are fuzzy colors.  I hear muted yelps and screams of victory through my ringing ears.  My head is throbbing, but I feel a strange warm sensation throughout my body, as if I am falling asleep.  Like the end of a movie, everything slowly, quietly fades to black.

********

“They found WHAT?”

I look up from my not-so-comfortable white hospital bed at my friends, who are gathered in a circle around me.  Olivia, Mary, Justin, Richie, Susan, and Veronica are all here.  No sign of Victor, though.  Oh, well.

“Yeah, apparently it was in your pocket,” says Justin.  “What I want to know is why you even had a blunt in the first place.  We didn’t smoke last night!”

Suddenly, like a cold wave splashing me in the face, it all comes back.  The really tall guy with the round John Lennon sunglasses and red dreadlocks!  The one who gave me the “advice” that earned me eight stitches and a concussion.  Just thinking about him makes my temple throb.

“That’s a story for another day, my friend,” I say, half-grinning.  “Wait, what ended up happening to the guy who hit me over the head with the bottle?”

My friends all start to laugh.

“What?  What’s so funny?”

“He was a senior member of Sigma Pi.  Essentially ran the whole frat.  And you stole his girl,” says Justin, still laughing.

“I did not ‘steal his girl,’” I reply, making air quotes with my fingers, which makes them laugh even harder.  “She rejected me!”

“As she should have!” says Susan.  “That was a real pig move by you, you know.”

“Oh, come on, Susan,” I argue, “it’s the college experience!”

“That’s not an excuse for grabbing women!” says Veronica.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Justin.  “Let’s all just go out tonight and get blasted so we can forget about all of this.”

“First of all, I doubt they’ll discharge me by tonight, dude,” I say.  “And second of all, I got caught with weed!  Wasn’t I technically supposed to be put under arrest or something?”

“No, I sweet-talked the police officer into letting you off with a warning,” says Olivia, winking at me.

“Oh, okay, great!  Uh, thanks!” I say.  “But third of all, it’s Sunday!  There aren’t going to be any parties on a Sunday night!”

“Sure there are!  I know a guy in Phi Upsilon who says they’re throwing an absolute rager tonight!” says Justin.

“Look, Justin, you can go out if you want, but I’m going to stay here with Aaron,” says Veronica, glaring at him and then turning her soft brown eyes and easy smile to me.

“Me too,” says Susan.

“And me,” says Olivia.

“Don’t forget me!” pipes Mary.

“I guess I’ll stay, too,” mumbles Richie.

“Damn, guys, Aaron’s going to be fine!” says Justin.  “Besides, he would want us to go out, wouldn’t you, buddy?”

I look at Justin as if I’m seeing him in the light for the first time.  What kind of friend says that?  The rest of these guys are being true friends, but Justin-- well, he’s just being himself, I guess.

“You know what?  Just go out, Justin, and have fun,” I say, smiling.  “Let me know how it goes.  I don’t think I’ll be going out again-- for a while, at least, anyway.”

Justin looks at me warily, sensing a shift in my tone.

“Okay, buddy,” he says uneasily.  “Feel better!”  He walks through the door, closing it quietly behind him.

“Can you believe him?” Veronica asks.  The other girls nod and grunt in agreement.  Richie looks longingly out the door, then turns back toward the group.

“So, if we’re not going out this weekend, what are we going to do?” he asks me, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could try something different,” I say, looking toward Veronica, who returns my smile.  “Something new and exciting.”

“Like what?” asks Olivia.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” says a glowing Veronica.  “There’s this new Thai place that just opened up on Palace Street, so I was thinking we go there for dinner at around seven, then afterward, there’s this really pretty spot on the hill next to Luchsinger Hall that I hear has an amazing view I’ve been meaning to check out, and I was thinking we could all go there with blankets and just lay down and talk and wait for the stars to come out, and then maybe we could…”

As she excitedly describes her plans to the group, I smile and close my eyes.  Maybe I was looking in all the wrong places for the college experience.  Maybe, after all these weekends of trying so hard to have fun, everything I’ve been looking for has been right under my nose all along.