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garbagevanfleet · 2 years

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Pink Lemonade (series)

PART SIX

Pairing: Sam x female!reader

Word Count: 12k words

Summary: Being a counselor at your childhood summer camp had been your dream since you were little and you had a specific vision of how it would go when it finally happened. You had not, however, planned to make an immediate enemy.

WARNINGS (this chapter): EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT - 18+ ONLY

Editor in Chief (and creator of the moodboard on each chapter): @gardenvanfleet

MASTERPOST

It felt so reckless. You were smarter than that - a fact that Sam, himself, had so ironically pointed out. Since you were little enough to understand socializing, you’d prided yourself on being the responsible one - logical, problem-solving, a leader. But, without even realizing it, you’d attached yourself to Sam in a meaningful way. With the way he had done absolutely everything he could to keep you at a distance, it would have been a stretch for you two to end up as friends, let alone anything more.

At the forefront of your mind, you knew you should dislike him; after all the snide remarks, sarcastic replies, and annoyed huffs, he should be the last person you’d want to have feelings for. But, you guessed, that was the downfall of being more of a logical person. Emotions refused to recognize the rules of logic, even when there were clear consequences.

Sam had built up a million barriers between you and him, brick by brick, and you were finally starting to realize it. You spent the entire next day pulling the puzzle pieces out of the box and laying them all out in your head - every time he’d wanted to say or do something nice but had stopped himself. Every time he would forget and accidentally give you more than he was intending to. It suddenly made sense to you, why you’d lose so much progress every time it started to feel like things were improving. Whether consciously or not, Sam was trying to figure out how to have his cake and eat it too, but there simply wasn’t a way for him to push you away and let you in.

You tried not to interact with him throughout your day, which was obviously not an easy task since you were supposed to be each other’s support. Luckily, he had already spent three weeks getting you used to not relying on him.

Unlike all the other times you’d had a spat with him, today he was tense. Up until that point, it was almost as if he pressed a reset button on himself every night - he didn’t seem to carry any grudges against you other than a general distaste for you as a whole.

Today, he would barely look at you. He treated every interaction with you as if he were doing it against his will. Which, the more you thought about it, you guessed he kind of was. He had skipped breakfast and had shown up to dinner only to get his tray of food and then leave.

“So, just like that, he’s back to eating in his cabin,” Josh noted, sounding a little forlorn as he watched Sam walk back through the front doors. You couldn’t be bothered to comment on it, since you were pretty sure there was no way you could express what you were feeling while maintaining what little dignity you had left, so you just kept your eyes fixed on your plate until you heard Josh call your name.

He was wearing a concerned expression when you looked back up at him, so you let out a short sigh and meant it when you said, “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh...,” He clearly was not convinced in the slightest, but still, he graciously decided to change the subject. Taking on a tone that was meant to entice you back to life, he stated, “So, I heard that the director is announcing the special activity. Should be any minute now.”

“Oh, yeah?” you prompted with an energy to match his, even if it felt a little forced. “Were you right? Is it the canoes?”

His mouth parted in a grin, giving you a cheeky smile as his answer.

He was, in fact, partially right. Director Graywater looked and sounded proud to announce that the camp had used a chunk of grant money to purchase some canoes, and the older age groups would be taking them out, while the littler kids got to have an ice cream sundae party and have a sleepover in the dining hall. From the little chatter you could decipher, it sounded like most people were excited about the choice, but as soon as the director excused himself, Josh gave you a comically unamused look.

“Well, that bites.”

You snorted a laugh at him, momentarily forgetting anything and everything that was troubling you. “I’m positive that he’ll let us take them out this weekend once the kids are gone. And, in the meantime, you get to have a bangin’ ice cream sundae. I’ve seen all the potential supplies in the pantry.”

“That’s true...” he agreed, seeming to deeply consider it.

“And, you get to spend an entire night entertaining a million little kids, which also seems like something you were created for specifically.”

He hummed, nodding. “That’s also true.” After another brief second of consideration, he confidently stated, “On second thought, I could probably use all the time I can get to recoup before I add to my sunburn, so I’m okay with it.”

“When you and I go out on the water this weekend, I’m setting an alarm on my phone. Every half hour, I’d better see you applying sunscreen,” you threatened teasingly.

He snickered at you but clearly had no objections. “Alright, deal.”

❀❀❀

During the previous cycle of kids, the special activity had to be pushed forward, but this go around, it was held when it was originally scheduled; the day before the children went home. The younger campers were set to have free time until eight pm, when they’d be rounded up into the dining hall for the evening, and the older kids were instructed to be down to the beach at ten am.

You’d set your girls loose for free time immediately after breakfast, telling them to watch the time and be back to the cabin by 9:30, so you decided to spend the rest of your morning trying to center yourself. Ever since you came to that jolting realization, you hadn’t been able to truly focus, and it was an unsettlingly foreign state of mind.

You let your longest playlist shuffle through itself, propped up on the little soap ledge as you stepped into the shower. Even though you knew you were just going to get sweaty and stinky out on the lake in a matter of hours, you were certain in your belief that nothing helped to clear your mind like metaphorically scrubbing it clean.

When you decided it wasn’t eco-friendly to keep wasting time under the water, even well after you were clean, you begrudgingly toweled off, picking through fond memories of camp to remind yourself why you’d done this in the first place.

You didn’t want to waste the energy blow drying your hair, so instead, you let the sun and breeze have at it as you sat in the grassy little area by your cabin. For your last free half-hour, you tipped your face to the sun and let your eyes slip shut in between moments of gazing up at the clouds as they lazily passed.

By the time the girls started showing back up, you were in a completely different state of mind. The first few joined you in the grass, and you had them tell you about their free time activities while you waited for the rest.

All of them were present by the time you’d set, and you were almost excited to feel pride about that fact - to feel anything truly positive again. Even when one of the girls questioned whether you’d be waiting for the boys to head down to the beach, you simply declined instead of dwelling on it, assuring them that the boys would head there on their own.

Standing at the shoreline was a whole group of lifeguards to watch over, and Director Graywater had the head lifeguard go over safety protocols, loud enough for everyone to hear.

You were given three strict rules; everyone was to remain in a life vest, there would be no roughhousing on the boats, and everyone was to remain in sight of a lifeguard or their counselor.

More kids chose to opt out of the activity than you were expecting - as it were, only half of your girls wanted to join your boat, which made for the perfect amount of people. The rest of the kids got to stay and swim, and there were already a lot of them splashing around at the beach as you readied your kids at the docks.

For your mental well-being, you decided it was best to continue to interact with Sam only when necessary, which is why you hadn’t even looked directly at him until you were helping your kids step into the unsteady boat. He was doing the same thing as you, dressed in a pink camp shirt with his hair left loose to shield his neck from the sun, but you were devastated to find that looking at him now felt different than it had before.

The anxious uncertainty you’d become accustomed to had evolved. You used to wonder what kind of secrets he was keeping, but now you felt like you had a secret - a looming, grizzly one, even though the butterflies in your stomach tried to tell a different story.

Since there was no solution that you could foresee, you sucked in a deep, readying breath and tried to focus on what you were doing. As you paddled the girls out onto the water, you firmly reminded yourself that you had a job to do, and it was more important now than ever. You had four little lives in your hands, and they deserved your full attention, so that’s what you gave them.

You let them lead the conversation as you got the hang of maneuvering the boat, listening fondly as they flitted from topic to topic over the sounds of song and laughter from all across the lake. They were delighted when you surprised each of them with a can of soda, which was almost never served at camp; you’d seen them in the pantry and figured no one would know if a few got misplaced. You made them all clink their cans against yours in “cheers” before they could take their first sip, a request that all of them seemed more than happy to oblige.

Even at the high point of the day, the lake acted as a buffer from the heat of the sun, and the breeze was just enough to catch on what little sweat had formed around the nape of your neck to cool you down. By the time the bell alerted you it was time to head back in, you felt as though you’d gotten your fill of the activity, but you weren’t as exhausted as you were expecting to be.

You counted it as a near-miracle that not a single bad thing had happened as you tried to get the boat close enough to the dock that you could let the kids out without damaging the new equipment. Not a single child in the camp had fallen overboard, and the only injury to speak of had been nothing more than a splinter.

Your girls were off instantly to greet the ones that had stayed behind, leaving you to figure out a way off the boat by yourself - and, as an added stressor, Sam had beaten you back. The water was just choppy enough that you didn’t feel safe just making a leap out of the swaying vessel. You were pretty sure you’d die of embarrassment if you ate shit and fell in, but...

You let out a quiet groan when you realized what you were going to have to do, and even then, you almost didn’t. It took a lot out of you to have to swallow your pride while you were still in the weeds with processing the last interaction you’d had with him, but you figured you’d just start over later with something new to dwell on before you fell asleep.

Your nerves made you speak his name too softly the first time, and the second time it came out a little raspy, but you didn’t have the emotional capacity to be too embarrassed about it. He glanced back over his shoulder at you before turning his whole body.

He didn’t even waste time with a quipping remark, and that’s how you knew he was still upset with you. Ordinarily, he’d take the opportunity to poke fun or pick at you, but he offered no niceties to pair with his flat expression. You hadn’t even had to ask - he seemed to know exactly what you wanted from him as he extended a hand for you to grip.

You planted one foot onto the dock, but as he went to help you out, the dip of a wave under you made you second-guess your balance. The brunt of the muscle work fell on him as you wobbled on the step up, and you saw him have to plant his feet more firmly to brace himself as you started to tip back. You teetered on the very edge of the wood for a second, the panic of the moment forcing you to reach for him with your other hand too. There was no question that you would have both ended up in the water if he hadn’t been able to tug you into him with the remainder of his strength.

You were breathing too quickly as he stepped back to create some distance between you, but to his credit, he didn’t shake you off of him completely until he was sure you had your footing. The thanks you offered him was wispy, and in response, he nodded tightly before padding off the dock. He was already gone from the beach by the time you got your things together and the boat secured.

Since the rest of the day was free time, you let the girls find their way to the dining hall for dinner on their own and you gave Josh a recap of the event over spaghetti and meatballs, being sure to avoid the almost-incident at the end.

Your girls were so tired that they struggled to stay awake while you all sat close on the bunks and shared what your favorite part of their trip was. It wasn’t a thing that had been advised by the camp itself, but one of your counselors had done it with you as a kid, and it had become a certain part of your routine.

As you slid into your bed, certain that all of your kids were already asleep, you realized just how tired you were too. You didn’t have the energy to stave away the yearning feeling creeping up on you, so you didn’t try to fight it. You thought about being pressed against him as you drifted off.

❀❀❀

Since the kids were all leaving the next day, right away when you woke up, you tried to really make the most of the last three hours. You braided hair and sang songs and helped fold clothes, and when the kids took off after breakfast, you were left satisfied but sad.

You even went to greet parents this time, shaking hands and thanking them for raising such kind children. You were killing it.

But so was Sam.

When you walked your girls down to the parking area, you were so shocked to see him there that you faltered in your step, causing one of your kids to bump into your hip. You shared a little laugh about it and then you sent her off in a car with her mom and three tiny siblings, but try as you might, you couldn’t fully buy into the sentiment of seeing your kids off when you were so distracted with watching Sam do the same thing.

He even helped one of his kids load their bag into the trunk of an old sedan, pulling him into a side hug before ushering him off. Like everything he did, it was meant to look half-hearted, but his body language hinted at the contrary. He kept subconsciously fidgeting - sticking his hand in the back pocket of his denim shorts as he shifted from foot to sandal-clad foot. Yeah, a little social anxiety was undoubtedly a contributing factor; it wasn’t like this was familiar territory for him, and you were positive he must feel terribly out of place.

But it really was more than that.

You brought it up to Josh on a walk you decided you both could use. Neither of you were really leading, but you ended up down at the beach, planting yourself into a couple of lounging chairs like you had once before.

You immediately pulled a little tube of sunscreen out of the pack on your hip, handing it over and eliciting a snickering laugh. As he was doing a poor job of rubbing it over the bridge of his nose, you cleared your throat in preparation.

“Do you think Sam actually hates being here?” It wasn’t really what you had meant to ask, but it slipped out that way anyway. His eyes flicked over at you as he adopted a crooked smile.

“No,” He used a fond, warm tone that told you a lot about just how much he loved Sam, despite his surface flaws. “I know he doesn’t.”

Out of the corner of your eye, he wiped what was left of the sunscreen over his shoulders and then dipped a hand into his pocket to pull out a little package of sunflower seeds, tipping the opening towards you. You breathed a laugh and took a couple as he continued, “As a matter of fact, now I think he’s pissed off because he’s starting to like it here.”

After a few long seconds of trying to think of something appropriate to say, you just settled on declaring, “That’s fucking stupid.”

He snorted a laugh and then popped a seed in his mouth. “I agree. But Sam’s a really prideful person. He’s always had a hard time admitting when he’s wrong.”

“He sounds like a real treat to live with.”

The hum he breathed through his nose was warm with nostalgia. In a cheeky tone that you knew held some amount of truth, he admitted, “He’s lucky I’m a patient person. And, I cannot stress enough that I’ve never seen him act quite...like this before.”

He paused for only a second before adding, “I’ve never seen him treat someone quite like he treats you.”

Just hearing him vocalize it stirred the emotional sediment; it relieved and validated you to know that he saw it too, but it also left you with the kind of anxiety that felt like a looming hand, ready to snap closed and crush you at any moment. You had to push back the lump rising in your throat, so when you spoke, it came out sounding raspy as if your voice were stretched too thin.

“Josh, I feel so stupid. How foolish is it to let yourself form feelings for someone that dislikes you so deeply?” you deplored, but as much as you wish you could say it helped, the self-scolding only served to sink you deeper.

You’d expected him to be nothing but sympathetic, but through a smirk that would have been frustrating to see on anyone else in that moment, he pressed, “You can’t really believe that.”

But you did believe it - so strong, in fact, that just hearing the confidence with which he said it made your frustrated frown turn to one of confusion. “What are you talking about- Of course, I think that! You just said yourself that you’ve never seen him treat someone as shitty as he treats me.”

He shook his head, smiling out at the lake. “No, I said that I’ve never seen him treat someone quite like he treats you.”

In an almost comical way, you visibly wracked your brain to figure out what he meant, and when you came up short, he put a gracious stop to it.

“Just take a deep breath,” he instructed in a tone and volume that was just as comforting as he intended it to be. “I’m confident that he’ll come around.”

With a humorless laugh, you shot him a look, but it wasn’t as sharp as you wanted it to be. But it didn’t matter anyway, because he had let his eyes slip closed, one hand tucked behind his head.

“How confident?” you pressed dubiously once you realized he wasn’t intending on giving any more.

One of his eyes cracked open to glance over at you so he could ask through a crooked smile, “What, you don’t trust me all of a sudden?”

“I trust you implicitly,” you argued. Exasperated and snappy, you added, “I think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, which is alarming because I’ve known you for like, a month. I just also know that you’re way too fucking nice.”

An amused hum slipped through his smile as he relaxed back again. “Here’s the thing. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen, hm? Just feel how you’re feeling and keep moving forward.”

He was, at least, kinda right, but it was your immediate instinct to reject something so laissez-faire. Plus, even though not a shred of this was his drama to deal with, you weren’t too proud to admit you felt a petty jealousy for how relaxed he was when you were only ever one minor inconvenience away from frustrated tears.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

Josh cracked a smile, and without even having to see your face, he added, “And no pouting.”

❀❀❀

It was the sound of the boy’s cabin door closing that roused you from sleep the next morning, five minutes before your alarm was set to go off. You sat up in your bed, letting the sheet fall off you as you rubbed at your face, and it wasn’t until you had full clarity that you realized just how out of place the noise was.

As inconspicuously as you could manage, you peeked out the window. When you realized you really wouldn’t be able to see much because your room was at the very back of the cabin, you padded out into the common space by the bunks and tried that window instead.

Sam was about halfway down the path to the main trail, and through the bare screen, you could hear the crunch of his tennies on the rocky soil bouncing off the treeline. You had to glance at your phone one more time, just to confirm you didn’t oversleep.

You hadn’t thought much more of it until you were at breakfast and he wasn’t. It’s not like you were expecting him to settle down at the table with you and Josh - you’d barely communicated with Sam over the last few days - but you at least expected him to show up for his food.

“Did you talk to Sam this morning?”

Josh lifted his eyes to acknowledge your question before focusing back on trying to unpeel a particularly stubborn orange.

“No, but I’m sure he’s just sleeping in. He’s kind of a celebrated over-sleeper.” Once he got a segment of the fruit free, he popped it in his mouth, tucked it into the corner of his cheek, and added, “I actually think not being able to sleep in is the worst thing about being here for him.”

You shook your head. “I saw him leave his cabin early this morning.” When Josh raised his eyebrows at you, as if to call attention to you admitting you were watching Sam through a window, you tacked on, “It’s just so unlike him.”

He finished chewing the slice, shrugging apologetically.

You hummed, ready to change the subject before you start to feel any semblance of embarrassment.

The rest of the day, you burrowed into Josh’s cabin with him and Ashley and a bottle of wine. Seeing as there were three of you, you never even felt so much as a buzz, but it was fun to sip it out of Frozen printed dixie cups while you watched an endless stream of youtube videos on Ashley’s laptop.

When Sam didn’t show up for dinner, you and Josh started to get a little concerned. You’d asked if he could call, but Josh opted to send him a text instead, stating that if he hadn’t gotten a message back by the time dinner was done, he’d go and check out the situation himself.

He had set his phone on the tabletop, so when he got a text back, it vibrated the whole table, causing you to send an apologetic smile to the counselors down the line while Josh opened it.

He read it for half a second before turning it around to show you the screen.

Sam’s name in Josh’s phone was “sammy”, and the contact picture was him in his teens, smiling intentionally too big at the camera. The recent text chain was Josh asking, is everything okay? and the one he got back just said, I’m fine.

Josh was giving you a suspicious frown that you mirrored back to him.

“I mean, you know him a lot better than I do,” you prompted. “What do you think?”

Worrying his lips together, he put on a puzzled expression, his brown eyes flicking in random directions as he considered the next move.

“Well, he texted back, which is obviously a good sign. But, I’m not sure what could be going on.”

You hummed at his admission. “Okay, how about this. I’m going to head back to my cabin for the night, and I’ll text you whether it looks like he’s there or not. Then, we can move forward from there.”

He agreed, and when you parted ways on the fork in the trail, you could feel the pressure instantly. You were so anxious on the walk back that you had to stuff your hands in your pockets to keep your fingers from shaking. You tried to quell the feeling by focusing on your surroundings.

The sky above was open and clear enough that you could see every star sewn into the blue-black fabric, and the sounds of the night were idyllic - crickets and a light breeze, mixed with the satisfying sound of the soles of your shoes with every step. Somewhere on the grounds, there was a party. You could hear the bouncy music and laughter muffled and distorted by the trees.

You were disheartened to see that the boys’ cabin was dark inside, and you had a choice to make - worry Josh and have him make the trek back over here, or do something about it yourself.

For the time being, you decided on the latter. It wasn’t like it was an emergency yet - for all you knew, Sam could be stargazing somewhere like you’d just done. You hadn’t known him long, but he seemed like the type to benefit from some tranquil shit like that. Plus, you reasoned, you could always call on Josh if things started to feel like too much.

You pulled your phone from your little pack and sent him, No luck yet but I’m going to walk the trails around here.

Near instantly, he’d read the message and typed back, should i come?

Not yet. I’ll let you know in a few minutes, you assured him. You tried knocking on Sam’s door, but you didn’t wait around too long for an answer, since that was kind of a long shot anyway.

To your sigh-heaving relief, you spotted a silhouette up on the trails and knew it was him instantly - luckily, he had an easily recognizable form.

“Sam?” you called. You thought you saw the shape of him look in your direction, but it was so quick that you couldn’t be sure. When he didn’t respond, you tried again, a little louder this time as you started to trot in his direction. When you got close enough to be certain, you didn’t suppress a scolding tone as you said, “There you are. Where have you been all day?”

There was no doubt that he’d heard you - this time you were positive you saw him glance in your direction, but it wasn’t until you could see the basic contours of his expression in the moonlight that you realized something was wrong.

You were used to seeing him angry, annoyed, bored, and tired. More rarely, you’d see him look smug or even entertained, and once or twice you’d seen him genuinely happy - if only for a second. But, you’d never seen him worried.

He was trying to hide it by turning his face away and looking anywhere else, but you could piece together an expression of genuine concern, even with what little he was giving you.

Taking a massive risk, you reached for his shoulder without even thinking about it and spun him around to face you. “Sam, what’s wrong?” you prompted him, being careful not to sound like you were patronizing him.

He let out a short breath of exasperation “Okay, I-” he started, and it became perfectly clear that there was something he didn’t want to tell you when he abruptly cut himself off. He absently raked his fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead until it slipped back into place.

“Sam, you’re kinda scaring me.”

He impatiently shook his head at your admission, letting you know he just needed to stumble through this. “No, shut up,” he requested without animosity, his tone assuring you that, whatever the issue was, it didn’t have anything to do with you. He pursed his lips together, squeezed his eyes shut, and then sucked in a tight breath in preparation.

“I fucking hate that I have to ask you for help right now, but I lost my key and I need you to help me find it.” The confession was choppy as if he had to force himself to keep going, every step of the way.

“You...lost your key,” you repeated, prompting him to nod impatiently at you, though he didn’t seem to want to look at you directly. “And you want me to help you find it.”

As if he were bracing himself for you to deny him, his shoulders stiffened - but, of course, you would never do that, even if he were an actual enemy of yours. The key was important because it served a lot of purposes. Counselors weren’t supposed to lock the doors to their cabins in case the kids wanted to go in and out during free time, but in an emergency, your specific key was the way to do it. It was your only access to a whole list of supplies - the pantry and the utility closet, not to mention the emergency medical supplies. It wasn’t a question of if you’d need it, but when, and you knew with the utmost confidence that if you’d misplaced yours, you’d be a fucking wreck too.

“Okay. Where should we start?”

He finally found your eyes and frowned in confusion. Deciding to forgo your question, it was with a laughable amount of suspicion that he repeated the word, “Okay?”

You were surprised that he didn’t take the out you’d just given him. All of it could have been skipped - the awkward process of acknowledging everything that had gone unspoken between you. But, you were feeling particularly generous with the relief of having found him, so you nodded at him innocently, offering, just one more time, an instant pass around this conversation.

The Sam you’d come to know would have taken it in a heartbeat, but this Sam seemed to have been pushed past the point of niceties. “Just like that?” he pressed like he couldn’t bring himself to believe you didn’t have an ulterior motive in helping him.

It wasn’t on purpose that you let out a breathy laugh, but it made his suspicious frown deepen. “Yes.”

He let it be silent as he shifted from one foot to the other, buying himself time to chew over how he wanted the rest of this to go. “No questions asked? Because I wouldn’t let you hear the end of this if it were you. You’re not going to give me any shit about it at all?”

You rolled your eyes light-heartedly, wishing you could hate the fluttery feeling as your brain spoon-fed you dopamine. “No, Sam. I’m capable of having an interaction with you without playing that weird game you’re so attached to. Since the moment I accidentally slammed into you on that first day, I’ve wanted nothing more from you than a conversation that wasn’t so fucking hard to navigate.”

As he stared at you, processing, you pulled your phone out again and opened the new message you got from Josh asking for an update.

“Is that- Are you texting my brother, for fuck’s sake?” The emotion in his voice felt like a bit of an overreaction to you; it was like he was personally offended, his voice creeping up in pitch in his disbelief at your audacity. “Can you just- Like for just a minute not involve him in something? I really don’t think he needs to know about this.”

Like you were handling an overstimulated animal, you put on an assuring smile as he floundered to come up with the words he wanted, holding your hand up to release him of the embarrassment of continuing. “I’m just texting him that I found you. We were worried,” you explained, finally getting to test out the calm and consoling counselor voice you’d imagined yourself using a lot more frequently.

“I told him I was fucking fine,” he grumbled, shaking his head in frustration.

After a second, you carefully asked, “Are you sure you don’t want his help with this though? Having one more person could really only-”

As if he were frustrated that there was no way for you to just automatically know what he was trying to say - that he actually had to work to vocalize it, he firmly stated, “No, we’re not telling him unless we can’t find it and since I know you’re going to fucking ask me why,” He paused to swipe his tongue over his bottom lip anxiously. “He just- pulled a lot of strings to get me here and I don’t want to-...Well, we’re just not gonna tell him unless we absolutely have to.”

There was no question that this was important to him, so you nodded in agreement to his terms, using all your mental energy to keep the evidence from your face that it was the most endearing thing you’d ever heard him say. “Okay. But, for the record, I wasn’t going to ask.”

For a split second, you could tell that statement had comforted him, but he shook it away, lest you see him soften. “Fine.”

“Alright, with all of that out of the way, let’s go over this. When did you last use it?”

Like it was a crushing weight lifted to finally get past all the awkward wheeling and dealing at the beginning (that he chose to trudge through), you could see his relief when he heaved in a breath and let it out.

“I don’t know when I used it, but I know for sure I had it Thursday,” he stated. “I remember checking to make sure before I left the cabin for dinner.”

Pleased with even the slightest progress, you nodded as a prompt for him to hold onto that attitude. “Okay. Friday morning was free time - what did you do?”

His eyes squeezed shut as if he were having a hard time going through with this, even though he’d been the one to ask for your help. “Once all the kids were out of the cabin, I went back to sleep.”

“So, why are you checking all the way out here?”

It took him a prolonged moment to make peace with the fact that he was going to have to admit, “Because, I went for a walk after dinner.”

You hummed in consideration, not allowing yourself even a second to think about the implications of him needing to walk off the things you’d said to each other at dinner. “Well, since we’re up here, let’s retrace your steps.” You held your hand out towards the trail in a gesture for him to take the lead.

There wasn’t much conversation as you walked by his side, and that was perfectly okay with you; you had hopefully decided right away that everything else with him was going to get shelved until you’d gotten through this trial.

At least, it started out that way. By the time you’d thoroughly checked the length of trail he’d walked that evening, both of you were starting to feel the drag of disappointment.

He was using a defeated tone as he stated, “That’s it. That’s the entire route I took.”

With a sense of finality for that step, you nodded. You met his eyes in solidarity as you both silently recognized that the next leg was going to be even less fun.

“Lake?” you asked, to which he let out a tired breath and suggested, “Yeah. Let’s start back at the cabin.”

The walk back wasn’t what you’d call a hike, but the path was windy - it dipped and sloped a few times, and you were sure it would be a good idea when you’d brushed his shoulder and nodded him towards the woods. You had the flashlight on your phone after all, and you’d taken the little game trail a couple of times in your adulthood - twice with Josh, and once on your own.

Somewhere along the line though, you lost the path. You realized it before Sam did, but you kept it to yourself, hoping that you could forge a way out and he’d be none the wiser.

But, Sam was smarter than that; it had only taken him a minute or two after you to figure out that something was off.

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” he asked dubiously, and when you didn’t answer instantly, he flatly stated, “You’re lost, aren’t you?”

“Uhm,” was all you could come up with, causing him to groan low in his throat.

“Are you kidding?” he snapped.

You turned your head to face him, even though you couldn’t really see anything but shapes in the density of the trees. “I’m sorry. It was supposed to be a shortcut.”

“We’re going to be out here all goddamned night.”

Even though the situation warranted all seriousness, you had to suppress a laugh at the idea of someone being able to hear you two arguing as you loudly squeezed your way through the thick, damp foliage.

“Well, good thing you can sleep the entire day tomorrow if you want.”

He scoffed at your quippy reply, and you could practically see him rolling his brown eyes. “I’m gonna smell like woods. I’ll have to take a shower when I get back, and then I’ll have to wait for my hair to dry.”

You paused mid-step and spun around, planting a hand on his chest and forcing him to a halt. In the kindest voice you knew, you reminded him, “Sam. I’m sorry about this snag, but I’m trying to help you.”

Under your palm, you felt him take a slow breath. You wanted to grip his shirt - feel the fabric bunch in your hand. Instead, when you were pretty sure he’d reset himself, you settled for dragging your touch down his sternum - only an inch or so - as you pulled it back.

For a second too long, you both stood there, not seeing any more of each other than a general outline, before you started forward again.

The hostility melted away instantly, but just because it was still Sam that was trudging on behind you, he light-heartedly grumbled, “I can get lost on my own.”

You huffed a laugh. “Next time, I’ll let you.”

By the time you saw the lake glittering through the trees, the shortcut had only set you back about ten minutes by your estimation.

“Well, since we’re already down here, should we start here and work our way back up to the cabins?” you asked.

“That probably makes the most sense.”

The air was refreshingly cooler by the shore, but no less heavy. It was such an open space that the reflection of the moon on the water was enough to let you comfortably feel around without fear of tripping over something.

“Okay, let’s comb the beach together quickly and then move up the shore,” you suggested. With no objections from him, you lead the way to the vague spot you remembered him standing in that morning and started scanning over the sand. Since there had been more than 24 hours of people freely tromping around the area, you couldn’t see the sense in wasting a lot of effort there, but you brushed over the top layer with your feet every now and again in hopes that you might miraculously uncover it.

After a few minutes of nothing but the sound of the waves lapping up on the beach, Sam broke the silence with, “Fuck, the camp doesn’t have a metal detector, does it?”

Through a sympathetic smile, you declined. “But, let’s move on. Should we head back up the trail to the cabins?”

He considered it for only a moment before he slowly turned his head to look out at the water.

You followed his line of sight and asked, “The docks?”

His tone of voice told you just how excited he was to reply, “Yeah.”

“I mean, it’s worth a try, right?” The hold you had on your positivity was a weak one, but you knew if you let yourself feel defeated, he was likely to let himself get too upset to keep looking.

You started off that way, but paused when you realized he wasn’t following.

“Sam?” you asked cautiously.

He let out a long, heavy sigh and then pressed his palm to his forehead in exasperation. “What if it’s out in the middle of the fucking lake? What if I dropped it while we were out there? It was on my wrist - it could have easily just slipped off while I was paddling.”

You weren’t sure how he wanted you to help, but you figured there wasn’t any point in trying to figure out - he’d never really given you any guidelines about these kinds of things. He seemed to determine and shift his boundaries at random.

Your feet started moving without your conscious decision until you were standing just a couple of feet in front of him. “When bad shit like this happens to me, it always helps me to talk it out. So, what’s the worst thing that could happen? We come up empty and you’ve permanently lost your key - but it can be replaced. I’m sure the director won’t be thrilled, but it’s not like you’re trying to get invited back here again next year. At the end of this summer, you still get to go home and move on with your life.”

He dropped his arm about halfway through your reasoning, and after it had settled into the folds of his brain, he nodded begrudgingly. “You’re right. Let’s do this.”

Standing over the lake at night was tranquil in a way you couldn’t explain. You had to pull your eyes away from the end of the dock when you imagined how cute it would be for Sam to sit next to you out there, your feet dangling off the edge with your toes in the water.

“What color was the elastic band on the key?” you asked, shining your light into the sand by the start of the wood.

“Red.”

“Okay, at least that should be easy to see. Maybe we should tell the director he needs to get glow-in-the-dark ones,” you jested, and when you spotted Sam checking into the water on the right side, you decided you’d take the left.

You could feel the old wood shift under your feet as you moved. “Anything?” you asked him over your shoulder.

“If I found something, you’d be the first to know,” he replied, just a hair on the snippy side for your liking, but you decided that he could be excused due to the circumstances - just this once. You were about to reply when he blurted, “Fuck, wait.”

His cautiously optimistic tone made your heart race, and you were over by his side in half a second, ducking down to your knees to match his position.

The view was partially obscured by the sparse strands of black seaweed, but as they swayed with the currents, you caught a peek of the red cord.

“Oh my god,” you breathed as you both stared down at it, unmoving for a moment.

Neither of you were saying it, but you were both perfectly aware of how inconvenient it was. Sam’s eyes were wide as he started to process the fact that someone would have to jump in and get it, and it wasn’t like the key had had the decency to land somewhere shallow. It had fallen off near the end of the dock - the lack of light made it hard to determine how deep it was, but you were pretty positive it would be over your head.

Alarmingly, when you looked over at him, he was already staring at you.

“You going in for it?”

Your eyes popped open wide at his question, making you squeak, “What?! Why would I be the one to go in for it? I didn’t lose the key.”

He breathed a laugh that sounded genuinely amused. “You know where this is?” he asked coyly. You were holding your breath as you shook your head. “This is right where you almost fell in the other day.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say. He nodded slowly at your understanding.

“Mhm. You ripped that bitch off my arm.”

You grimaced at him apologetically, putting on an innocent smile.

“What if I just push you in?” he quipped. You wanted to believe he was teasing but you just couldn’t put your trust in it completely.

Your eyes narrowed threateningly. “If you push me into this water, I will punch you so hard in your stupid fucking face, Samuel.”

Completely ignoring your statement, he noted, “If I pushed you in, you’d have no reason to not grab it. You’d already be wet.”

“Sam,” you warned, sitting up a little straighter so you could jump back if you had to.

He snickered, rolling his eyes as he stood up to toe his sandals off. “Calm down.”

You were expecting him to walk in from the beach, but instead, he just sat at the edge of the dock and slid in. It was apparently as deep as you’d thought because gravity pulled him under once he let go, and for a second, you were left peering off the edge into the dark.

When he popped back up, he instantly pushed his wet hair off his face and let out a wavering breath.

Before you could stop yourself, your lips parted and you quipped, “Remember how you were worried about smelling like the woods? Well, now you get to smell like lake water too.”

He glared at you, but it was half-hearted and weak. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not going to be able to see it well from in here, so you’ll have to point it out, I think.”

You nodded, wanting more than anything to be helpful despite the ribbing you’d just given him. Even as bright as your phone flashlight was, you still had to strain to find the key again through the dark. You picked out just a flash of red and pointed to it.

“It’s right...” He pointed his finger down into the water and you waited until he was hovering over it before finishing, “There.”

He took a breath and then dove for it. It wasn’t more than a few seconds that he was gone, but you waited in suspense, leaning as far over the edge of the dock as you could without the immediate risk of flipping ass over tin cup.

When he popped back up, he blew the water off his lips and pushed his hair from his eyes for a second time. “I didn’t get it,” he stated.

You frowned sympathetically. “Well, that’s not good. Did you stir up all the dirt at the bottom?”

With an unamused expression, he asked, “What do you think? I had to try to feel for it.”

“Maybe if you-”

“Unless you wanna get in here instead, don’t say it,” he challenged, and you put your hands up in surrender, pursing your lips around a humored smile.

Sam was still wearing a smirk of warning when he sucked in another breath before submerging. When he resurfaced this time, he responded to your hopeful look by triumphantly lifting his hand to show you the key, dangling from the red cord in his grasp.

You rocked back on your heels, pressing your fingers over your mouth to muffle an excited squeak that bubbled out without warning.

“Fuck, what a relief,” you gushed through a beaming grin that forced a fond smile of his own. “I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling.”

You extended a hand with the intention of taking the key from him, hoping to keep it safe while he swam back to the shore, but he reached past you and dropped it on the dock. Instead, he opted to press his chilled palm to yours, slotting your fingers together.

A hot rush of adrenaline surged through your body. You had been expecting him to near-immediately go back to being cold and closed off once you’d helped him complete his goal - the very best case scenario you could have imagined was him visibly struggling to be annoyed with you from then on.

Your face was burning as you took in his features, highlighted in liquid silver from above by the moon. Little shining beads dripped from his chin as he used his other hand to push back his hair, one more time. With the most caution you could ever remember using, you started to lean forward toward him. The thought that he might reject you now, after all of this, filled you with the kind of fear that made you feel like you were vibrating.

When you got close enough to him, he used his other hand to grip the side of the dock and turned his knuckles white by lifting himself just enough. As you met in the middle, the chilled tip of his nose touched you first; like ice against your superheated skin. He had obviously been intending to just brush his lips against yours, testing whether or not you’d let him, but the well-timed swell of a wave jolted you forward just enough to press your mouths together in earnest.

He peeled his hand from yours and you sucked a shocked breath in through your nostrils as he wrapped his long fingers around the back of your neck. The corners of his lips turned up into a pleased smile at the sound.

When he broke the kiss, you sat back just a bit. You wanted desperately to continue, but your core muscles were weak from the strain of keeping you at such a dramatic angle. If he had made it clear that he wanted you to, you would have kept it up until you physically could not, but as it were, he let go of the dock, allowing gravity to pull him back into the water.

You didn’t know what to expect when his fingers wrapped into the hair at the nape of your neck, gripping tighter than you were expecting, but you knew you liked the feeling.

“You know if you want to keep doing this, you’re going to have to come in here, right?” he asked smugly. It took you a second to understand what he was saying, but once it clicked your eyes popped open wide.

“No, no- Sam, no.” It started out as a plea but quickly turned to a growling threat.

Having absolutely no effect on him other than to widen his grin, he laughed, “Don’t scream.”

For being as lithe as he appeared, you found out that evening that he had a hidden strength to him. When he tugged you forward, you made the split-second decision to jump with the direction of the movement for fear that the wood would scrape up your legs on the way down. He was right to warn you; you had to purse your lips together as tightly as you could manage in order to not let out a shriek as the crown of your head hit the water.

You were a great swimmer, but between the chill and the excitement of the moment, you had to work to reorient yourself. It was his hand around your bicep that guided you to the surface, and when you broke through, you sucked in such a dramatic breath that you were sure it could be heard all the way to the other side of the grounds.

He was snickering as he shushed you, but you didn’t even think about it before cocking your fist back and using all of your hidden strength to punch the meatiest part of his shoulder. It wasn’t the slug to the face you’d promised him, but he still winced, hissing through his perfect teeth in between bursts of muffled laughter.

“You fucking asshole,” you growled, thinking about swiping for him again but deciding against it in favor of wrapping your arms around your chest like that might help.

The water wasn’t quite as cold as you’d expected it to be, but your wet skin made you dread the breeze. You were just lucky that it wasn’t a super deep lake.

Just by the smile he was wearing, you knew he was perfectly aware that you were going to forgive him, near-instantly. “See, now we got the hard part out of the way.”

“Prick,” you grumbled, glaring at him. But despite that, you didn’t even consider moving away when he stretched a hand out for your waist. Between the current, your shivering, and the lack of anything tethering you to something solid, it was tough to control your body; when he pulled you closer to him, there was nothing stopping you from just bumping into him.

You couldn’t really see any other choice but to wrap your arms around his neck, threading your shaking fingers through his heavy hair for security. This time his mouth was open when it pressed to yours, his tongue swiping over your lips. Your heart was pounding; it muted your hearing with each pulse as the icy-hot adrenaline pumped through your veins.

His hand first settled on the small of your waist before he realized it wasn’t enough for him. There was the slightest hesitation before it slipped down your side, cupping under the back of your thigh and lifting your leg to hitch over his hip. He immediately did the same with your other leg, leaving you pressed flush to him with nothing but your wet clothes in between.

His fingers dug into your muscle as you tried to level your jagged breathing, but your instinct was to tighten your thighs around him. You hooked your ankles behind his lower back, leaving him holding your entire weight and his own as you bobbed with the lazy waves.

When you sucked in a deep breath through your nose, your rib cage swelled; oxygen and bravery filling the space. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, and his low hum rattled against your teeth. His left hand left your leg to reach for the dock, turning so he could press you back into the submerged support beam. On either side of your head, his fingers gripped the wooden slats, leaving you feeling protected from the world outside the one you’d shoddily constructed around the two of you.

The water rhythmically lapping against your back felt like a caress in a dream. There were so many points of contact on your body that you could focus on, but all your attention was trained on what your mouth was doing - what his silky tongue felt and tasted like on yours.

You framed his face with your palms, holding him still while you pulled back to catch your breath. The weight of the water had pulled down the hem of his collar, letting your eyes catch on the hollow spot under his throat, right between his collarbones. You weren’t sure if you were being irrational in the fear that if you met his eyes, the moment would shatter, so it took you a while to gather the courage. You placed your hand on his breastbone, gripping lightly around his throat as you followed it up. With your first two fingers, you traced his lips, causing the corners to twitch into a smile.

“It’s cold,” you noted in a whisper, running your hand down the goosebumps on his shoulder like they were braille you were trying to decipher.

He hummed in agreement. “It is.”

After a few silent seconds, you huffed amusedly, rolled your eyes, and said, “That was a cue for you to take me back to the cabins.”

“I know what it was,” he assured you, smug enough that you shot him a slight glare.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He took your hand, letting you know he intended to drag you with him as he started to wade back to the shore.

The walk back to the cabins was unpleasant. After he’d grabbed his key and shoes off the dock, you made a beeline, not wanting to waste any more time freezing your ass off than you had to. Each step was soggy and sandy as you wrapped your arms around your chest in a vain attempt at staving off the light breeze.

Without asking your opinion, he picked your cabin, ushering you into the dark and then shut the door behind himself. Your haste was spurred on by the need to get warm rather than to rush the interaction, so you stayed facing away from him as you peeled your sopping wet shirt off your chest and let it hit the wooden floor with a heavy sound.

Your eyes had become accustomed to only the light of the moon, and you guessed he was in the same boat; neither of you made a move to flip on any light switches until you got to the bathroom.

He kept pausing to shed his layers, so he was a few good steps behind, still in the living space by the time you were turning the water on. You were completely undressed and already standing in the shower by the time you heard the bathroom door latch shut.

You knew that starting off with the water too hot would be a bad idea - you remembered that you were supposed to bring your body temperature up slowly - so you fiddled with it until it felt right.

To his credit, when he stepped in, he pointedly kept his eyes on yours, seemingly just to show off the depth of his self control. But, you weren’t impressed - or, at least that’s what you wanted him to believe. Without wasting a second, you looped your arms around his neck and stepped into him, pressing him back against the cold tile as you kissed him.

You could sense him second guessing himself before his hand settled into the dip of your waist, the pads of his fingers digging in where they landed. He used the leverage to walk you back until the warm spray was falling over the nape of your neck.

You weren’t sure where the urge to tease him came from, but it bubbled up past your lips in the form of, “Is this why you’ve been such an awful pain in the ass?”

“Don’t ask me that,” he instructed, wearing an amused tone. “Actually, maybe just don’t talk at all.”

You pressed your luck, cupping his jawbone with your hand to sweeten the sentiment. “I already did. Can’t take it back now.”

He huffed a laugh. “Here, let me show you how to shut up.” You were sure he was going to kiss you again until he tipped you back, dunking your face into the running water and making you have to spit some onto the shower floor.

You smacked the back of your hand against his peck, making him blurt out a truly unrestrained laugh - so bubbly and sweet sounding as it bounced around the confined space that you couldn’t even bring yourself to be upset.

“C’mere,” he requested, holding an arm open and pulling you in once you got close enough. You could feel the shape of him pressed against you, making your cheeks flush as you let out a shaky exhale.

“Sam?” you breathed as you cautiously rested your chin on his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“We can’t let this affect us. Like, during camp hours,” you warned him weakly. You could picture him rolling his eyes.

He was putting on an air of annoyance, but his tone was undeniably fond. “Yeah, yeah. Leave it to you to suck the fun out of something like this.”

A strange kind of embarrassment washed over you, urging you to ask, “Who said it can’t be fun?”

“No one. Now shut up,” he instructed playfully, walking you back even further until you were wedged in the corner of the shower tightly enough that he could hitch your leg on his hip without the threat of you losing your balance.

His lips, still clinging to the slight chill from outside, connected with your neck. He ran them up your jugular vein, no doubt feeling your erratic pulse against his sensitive skin, but you were too consumed to care if he knew.

In fact, he probably should know.

The edges of his teeth were sharp enough to sting a little as he dragged them over your collarbone. You could imagine the fuschia mark you’d be left with tomorrow morning - yellowed around the edges. You were already flicking through the list of made up excuses you’d dish out if you were questioned about it until his hand slipped up your side to cup your breast.

He kneaded it in his palm as you threaded your fingers through his hair, holding his face to your chest and focusing only on his touch and the feeling of his rhythmic breaths hitting your wet skin.

Like a one-two punch, he slowly sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast as his free hand slipped down your body to cup your ass. Once he had a good handful, he guided you forward until his thigh slipped between your legs.

An embarrassing noise that you could only describe as a whimper escaped passed your pursed lips as you met the shape of his femur through the flesh and muscle. Encouragement in the form of a low hum brushed against the shell of your ear as he coaxed you into chasing the feeling.

So, you did.

You were a little too self conscious to really go for it at first. Your instincts were telling you to prize sex appeal over your own pleasure, but that could only last for so long. Once the feeling started to build, you were clawing for it; you were desperate to see the height of it.

His fingers were dug into your muscle, guiding you forward to grind against him in a way that would be too rough if it were anyone else. But this was Sam, and you didn’t think you could handle him being too sweet to you right now.

You stuttered out his name, embarrassingly breathy and shaking, and in response, he mumbled something into your neck. You were positive it was an encouragement, but between the shower and the white noise in your brain, it sounded like static.

Your toes curled as you started to come, leaving him supporting the vast majority of your weight - which, to his credit, he shouldered without letting you see the effort. It wasn’t until you were coming out of it that you realized you were holding onto him too tightly; you had to focus on relaxing your rigid muscles as he let your body rest against the shower wall.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you dragged your fingers down his body. His lashes fluttered as you wrapped your fingers around him, slipping him through your tightened fist.

You could tell he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself, the same way you’d been just a few short moments ago. Wrapping your fingers in his hair, you coaxed him forward until he was leaning against you, his head hung so his cheek was pressed to yours.

His breath, the warm water, and his body heat had you feeling like you were melting in a post-orgasm haze. Luckily, after a few strokes, your hand seemed to move on its own like muscle memory.

You turned your face, nuzzling the bridge of your nose into his jawline and then kissing down to his neck. It must have felt nice, because he tilted his head, opening the space for you. As you lapped the flat of your tongue up the line of his artery, you could feel goosebumps form under your tastebuds, and soon after, they were littering his arms too.

His breathing was steady until you tightened your grip - then it started to become increasingly more jagged. Every now and then, he’d let a groan slip that you otherwise would have missed, had you not had your mouth pressed directly to his throat.

“Does that feel nice, Sam?” you asked, your own voice coming out raspy. He didn’t verbally respond, but he didn’t have to; you felt him pulse in your hand. “Are you gonna be nicer to me now?”

You had been expecting the breathy laugh, but you hadn’t expected him to raise his hand to cover your mouth; you tried to squirm away from it, but he just shoved his first two fingers past your lips instead. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him smirking as he crowded in on you, rocking his hips with the movement of your arm every now and again.

When he was about to come, he pulled his fingers out to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, turning your head to rest his forehead on yours. His heavy breathing breezed over your mouth as it became jagged, and then, he lost it.

There was no way you could have processed it all in the moment, but you knew you’d be thinking about the feeling of his come painting your lower stomach for days after.

He tried to pull himself out of the fog too quickly, lifting his head and going to take a step back, but you weren’t ready. You wriggled out of his grip and then looped your arms around his neck. He wasn’t sure how to respond as you held him tight to you until you felt him decide to relax. He placed his palm in the center of your back, rubbing comfortable circles as he recovered.

When you finally pulled away, you made it a point to not completely meet his eyes, but you couldn’t purse back a smile as you passed the shampoo bottle to him.

“Are you staying?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible once he stepped out onto the bathmat. You hadn’t expected him to, so it wouldn’t have been devastating if he hadn’t, and you certainly didn’t want him thinking he was doing you any favors.

He looked upsettingly good as he raked his fingers through his long hair, tucking one side of it behind his ear so he could meet your eyes as he secured a towel around his waist. His reply was delivered with a challenging smirk.

“Why would I?”

“You really wanna go all the way back to your own cabin?”

He huffed a laugh that, for once, sounded genuinely charmed. “You mean the one that’s literally twenty feet from the door?”

“Mhm. That one. What are you gonna do, go over there naked?”

“Well, I did plan on wearing a towel,” he assured playfully. “Why, what do you suggest?”

You pretended to think about it for a couple of short seconds. “You could just sleep here.”

“Naked?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at you from across the room. When you nodded, he added, “You think it would be better for me to sneak over to my cabin naked in the morning than right now in the dark?”

“To be honest, I don’t really care what consequences you suffer, but I think it would be nice to sleep next to someone tonight,” you admitted.

He hummed in faux consideration. “Maybe you should text Josh. I bet he’d still answer.”

You glanced over to where your phone was drying out on the side table. Sam hadn’t said it in a malicious tone, so you weren’t sure how to proceed other than to challengingly quip, “What if I did?”

He raised an eyebrow at you as if he were also trying to figure out if you were just joking with him. “Are you going to?”

It was admittedly a little flattering to hear him ask you that. Obviously, you wouldn’t, but he didn’t really need to know that. You shrugged. “Thinking about it.”

“That would be a great way to assure this never happens again.”

He’d done a good job at keeping his tone light, but you knew the warning was serious. You smirked at him. “Then don’t leave.”

His expression slipped into something stony and irritated as he slipped his sandals back on and grabbed his wet clothes. He didn’t say anything else before he headed for the door and let himself out.

You released a long sigh and absently ran your fingers through your hair. You were careful to not let the grief settle into your chest as you pulled on your pajamas - you didn’t want to get sucked into it after such a pleasant couple of hours.

You were just about to tuck into bed when you heard the front door open again. Padding to your bedroom doorway, you peeked around the frame to see Sam slipping his sandals back off.

You hummed, pleased to see that he’d changed into something comfy. “Welcome back.”

He shot you a warning look, nodding past you into your room. “Quiet. Get in bed.”

An amused scoff escaped you, but you still turned around and did as he instructed. You weren’t even completely under the covers when he reached the side of your bed.

“Move over,” he grumbled, ushering you to the very corner where your mattress met the wall. You were grinning as he slipped in next to you and leaned over the side to flip off the light.

As soon as he was back in place, you settled into his side, draping an arm over his chest, and triumphantly said, “Goodnight, Sam.”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew he rolled his eyes at your goading tone. “You’re so annoying.”

You weren’t sure if he had intended to come back to your cabin as he was leaving, or if he got over to his own and decided, but you guessed it didn’t really matter.

#Pink Lemonade #Sam Kiskza smut #Sam Kiszka fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fic

421 notes · View notes

mbti-notes · 10 months

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Anon wrote: Hi mbti-notes, an INTP here. Lately I have encountered a situation which I couldn’t determine whether it is Ne indulgence and I lose track of my introverted functions or if there are other issues behind the surface. I think it would be better to receive some comment on it and I wish you could help.

I have been concentrating myself on academic results more than I used to, I think it is partly out of the urge to strive for a better future, another part of it is that I feel like I cannot fall behind my classmates as I don’t want to seem incompetent to the people around me. This idea grew stronger after my mother claimed that I would end up being a useless member of society because I didn’t have a “proper” attitude towards my academic results. I could be taking her words too seriously but I keep thinking I should prove her wrong. When there’s a task I could mimic an unhealthy ENTJ unconsciously and temporarily. I become hasty, impatient, judgemental, I overlook details so I can get thing done within the least possible amount of time, shut away the monologue I always have in my mind to focus on what I’m doing, disregard others’ opinion because I think my idea is the best. I read theories that a person could act like their shadow when they are stressful, it seems like what I experienced.

At the same time, I spent a lot of energy on socialising with my classmates. I enjoy it at some point, they are interesting people and I think I should pay more attention to them, but when I got time to reflect alone afterwards, I feel fatigued by all the social interactions. After I returned home, all that I am left with is tiredness and I don’t want to speak with anyone anymore, every single sound I hear could frustrate me even if they are simply words of care. I feel a need for rest, but when I do rest I binge watch repetitive Mary Sue stories that pop up on my social media feeds. I know they do not convey deeper meanings, but I am becoming addicted to these meaningless stories that do not require any true thoughts to process and I could shut down my mind.

I believed I maintained a good work-life balance, and this is a good way of life I should continue, but now as I took advice from my friend and spend time on long novels I could truly enter a flow state within, I think I actually overemphasised on external validation and failed to see what I really needed. Returning to the original question, it seemed like I was escaping reality with unhealthy Ne that keeps me wasting time on unproductive things, exploiting my energy to seek out ‘new’ information that are actually repetitive and superficial, forcing myself to open up Fe even when I actually wanted space for myself; but I am not entirely sure about my statement. Thanks for your time and effort, any insights that could be drawn from it are appreciated.

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Generally speaking, if you believe you're experiencing Fe grip in part because of misusing Ne, then you ought to develop Ne and learn to use it more appropriately, consult the Type Dev Guide.

It seems you are always being pulled around by things outside you, such as your mother, your friends, or those mary sue stories. What does that mean? Perhaps it means you have little substance and you use those things as a poor substitute. You are like a leaf being blown around by the wind, with no control over where you go.

The remedy to being driven only by extrinsic factors is to nurture intrinsic motivation. Who are you really? What do you really want out of life? What are your values? What do you stand for? What do you have to offer? What about you matters? What greater aspirations or ideals do you commit yourself to? If you can't answer any of these questions, it means you haven't gotten very far in development and, as a result, don't have any meaningful direction or purpose in life. When you have no real identity as a person, how can you be anything but an easy victim of circumstance?

If you want to take more control over life and have a better sense of direction, then start by committing yourself to more meaningful activities, especially activities that would allow you to make the best use of the gifts you've been granted. Yes, there is a difference between "rest" and "escape". You speak as though you have no control over those repetitive activities, but you made the choice to do them, and you're now starting to realize that the "reward" is actually harmful to you. You could choose better activities instead. To realize more of your potential and grow as a person often involves giving up immediate gratification for a greater goal and making tough decisions about how best to spend your time.

#intp #auxiliary ne #si loop #inferior fe #intrinsic motivation #ask

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trans-axolotl · 2 years

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hi! can i ask you to elaborate on the right to decline psych meds? asking as someone with severe bipolar that really negatively impacts my life but also as someone who does not want to take meds, both for personal and political reasons, and feels self conscious about that. i would love more perspectives on it tho if you have the time and energy! if not no worries of course, take care <3

hey anon! So i'm going to give like five disclaimers before getting into it because I have seen the way tumblr misinterprets my posts before lmao. I feel comfortable sharing my own experiences, but I am only one bipolar person and don't want people to generalize what I'm saying as applicable to what decisions they should make about their meds. there's a lot of factors that go into deciding to take or not take meds and I can't give advice like that over the internet. i'm also not an expert on psych meds and can't give medical advice.

with all of that out of the way, I want to talk a little bit about why I currently refuse to take meds. i fundamentally believe that everyone has the right to choose the way they want to experience the world, and always has the right to choose what we put in our bodies. for me, I see my bipolar as less of a transient state and more as a neurotype. experiencing life through cycles and in extremes is something that is meaningful to me. I don't love every aspect of being bipolar, but I can't imagine myself without it because it affects every part of the way I perceive and interact with the world. there's a lot of value that going through mood cycles brings to my life in the way that i understand the world and process events, and i like having times where I have endless energy and can be social and make big decisions and work on projects, and I like having times where I can feel emotions and be contemplative and feel in touch with sadness and be able to take a moment to slow down. there are also some things I fucking hate about bipolar, like the way I feel during a manic episode when I'm too restless and it's like there's bugs in my skin, psychosis making me fucking terrified in a way that's hard to cope with, reckless decisions interfering with relationships, or how sometimes when I'm in a depressive episode I can't get up out of bed, am so numb that I can't support people in my life, and get suicidal. but for me, my experience with bipolar is a lot more complex and I don't wish to experience life without bipolar. the way that most medications have interacted with me has taken away all the parts of myself that I recognize, and i have been made to feel like being bipolar was the "problem."

my experience with psych meds has mostly been in situations where I was forcibly drugged in the psych ward, which brought a hell of a lot of trauma with it. the main reason I don't take medication is because that experience traumatized me to the point where I now often have paranoid delusions about medication, so I can't consistently stay on daily medication. even though i often have insight and I am usually pretty aware of my delusions, they happen frequently enough that trying to get me to stay on meds for more than a couple weeks would be a losing battle, and I'm not interested in going through withdrawal symptoms every few weeks.

beyond that, I don't go on psych meds right now because the medications I have tried numbed me out and made me so low energy that I could barely function in my daily life or socialize or do anything that was important to me. it stabilized my moods, but left me feeling nothing instead. there were also some physical side effects that i really disliked, and altogether, that wasn't worth it for me. i wanted to be able to choose the way of experiencing the world that felt the most authentic and also the most manageable. for me, the tradeoff of having stable moods was not worth it for everything I lost from having access to my emotions and ability to experience those highs and lows. i have enough coping skills and enough of a support system that dealing with the shitty parts of bipolar without meds is a reality for me. and the way I see it, no matter who I am or what diagnosis I have or what meds I'm on, there are going to be shitty days, and it's okay if my shitty days are on a different scale and don't look like the shitty days of someone who doesn't have bipolar. i'm open to medication in the future, especially when i get to a stage in my life when I'm having kids, because I think my priorities around stability and mood cycles might change. but for now, i feel very comfortable not trying out medication and just experiencing my mood cycles the way they are.

i think that medications are very helpful for some people, but my perspective on psychiatry is that the decisions should always be in our hands to decide what our actual priorities are. psychiatry operates by saying that everyone with bipolar's goal must be having stable moods and no symptoms. there's a million different ways to be bipolar and experience our symptoms. some bipolar people might think that physical side effects are a perfectly fine trade off for not having to deal with manic episodes. some bipolar people might feel particularly strongly about wanting medication to help with their depressive episodes, but not care about the rest. some bipolar people might take meds as needed, but not long term. there's a million different ways that we can experience the same diagnosis, and i believe that treatment needs to have space for all of these experiences, and respect our autonomy in choosing what our individual priorities are. I think there also needs to be a lot more awareness and understanding about the actual efficacy of medications. medications are going to work differently for every individual, and there is not one magic medication regime that can be backed up with evidence to show that it actually always reduces symptoms. mad/mentally ill/ neurodivergent people deserve a lot more honesty from our providers about the parts of medication management that truly is trial and error, instead of being made to feel like we're a failure because medications don't provide instant freedom from all of our distress.

there are lots of reasons that people might not want to be on meds and I unequivocally support anyone's right to make their own decision about medication, regardless of their psych's opinions on it. whether people don't want to take meds because of trauma, because they don't trust doctors, because they don't like the physical side effects, because they don't like feeling numb, because they don't agree with the idea that certain symptoms are harmful, because they're tired of trying out new medications, because they don't want to take meds that prevent them from drinking alcohol, because they can't pay for them, because they won't regularly remember to take them, because they only want to be on some types of meds and not others, or for literally any reason, people always should have the final say on what goes into our body.

if other people want to add on their perspective on medication, please feel free! I am only one person and I don't think my way of thinking about medication is the only way, and that there is room for a lot of experiences. I'm also going to link the Harm reduction guide to psychiatric drugs, and strongly recommend that people don't make changes to their medication habits without educating yourself on the risks, your own personal vulnerabilities, and what steps you can take to make it safer.

#antipsych #antipsychiatry #medication #ask to tag #don't know if this needs a psych abuse trigger tag #ok to reblog #bipolar #disability studies #i always get a little nervous talking about meds online bc i know i have no control #how people interpet this #but i think its important to talk about !

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furrama · 1 year

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I saw a post somewhere that said something to the effect that what we come online for is to find communities but we've found ourselves stuck in audiences (I think that was the word) and I think that is why I've been so frustrated with social media over the past several years. It's been miserable and lonely on this side of the screen, and there's no more energy I have left for this. I don't have a voice anywhere, my art isn't good enough to be noticed or wanted, all I can do is look at other people's stuff from far away. I have no meaningful outlet here. This box so very rarely gives anything back, even when I was able to give more the returns diminished to the point that saying hi or being friendly felt more like a chore than a nice thing to do. I know some people are having a different/better experience with online interactions but I'm probably never going to have that. I don't know what's wrong with me exactly but I can't keep picking myself apart to try to please an invisible faceless void to try and figure that out. It's not healthy or fair.

I know I'm feeling depressed and empty so I don't know what I actually want to do about this right now. It's a bad time to burn it all down, I might feel different tomorrow. But man, a community? That I could contribute to and it helps me out too? I want to go there instead.

#I'm very aware that I'm cult bait right now but don't worry #I'm not throwing myself into anything in this state #I'm still recovering from COVID too that's really a huge sap right now

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generalqueery · 1 year

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Battling Gender's Construct

Salutations Troops! I stand before you today to address a critical issue that divides our world: the oppressive force of our gender constructs. In Western society, perceived gender unknowingly plays a significant role in shaping our interactions with others. From the moment we encounter someone, our brains unconsciously categorize them into two binary boxes, dictating how we should behave, communicate, and even perceive them.

Recent studies, including a compelling one conducted by researchers at Harvard, shed light on the profound effect of these gender constructs on our lives. Their findings reveal that one of the primary aspects our brains notice when engaging with others is their perceived gender. Whether we realize it or not, this initial classification informs our judgment of potential partners, safety, body language, and even how we express our agreement. Unwittingly, we divide our world into two subgroups, weakening our collective power as a diverse and united community.

While efforts have been made to weaken the divide between these two sexes, our intersex, non-binary, and other gender-diverse allies are left on the sidelines. As a nonbinary-genderfluid person myself, I stand, torn between this unspoken fight, on the daily. As I go about my day, it’s easy to feel watched by others not knowing how to perceive me. I suppose I understand why, I go against their notions of understanding and threaten their previously held beliefs. Unfortunately for me, that leads to a lot of uncomfortable interactions. As a person who uses they/them pronouns, I find myself always caught in the struggle between one end of the spectrum or the other. I’m never addressed as a person in public, but rather, as a man or a woman. There is always a sir, or a ma’am when I go out into the world. As you can imagine, this gets frustrating quickly. In my urge to fall in between, I’m left in no man’s land. Caught in a battle between appearing too masculine, or not masculine enough, I find myself feeling alone in this struggle. My mission for you, troops, is to stand up for one another and face our energy toward improvement. I believe to achieve our goal, we need to stand united. As we stand together on the frontline, we must equip ourselves with the most potent weapons: education and tolerance. It is not enough to simply recognize the issues; we must take action to effect meaningful change. So, what can you do? 1. Listen to Our Voices. Queer people are often oppressed and silenced by corporations, book banning, and other restrictive policies. I urge you to take a stand and read a book about an identity you do not yet fully understand. Some of the most important perspectives to get are of our trans, intersex, non-binary and gender-diverse allies. If you’ve read this far, consider following the blog for more 2. Support LGBTQ+ Organizations. Seek out and support organizations that work tirelessly to advocate for LGBTQ+ rights and equality. Whether through donations or volunteering your time, your support can make a significant impact. 3. Just be an ally, Valentina. Given the opportunity, talk to a queer individual in your life and get their perspective. Seek to understand, not debate. Often Queer voices are spoken over, give your mouth a rest, and really LISTEN. Being an ally isn’t just about listening though, it’s about action. Inquire about the practices of your school, workplace, etc. Find out what they are doing for, or against the LGBTQ community and seek improvements. Use inclusive language. Introduce yourself with your pronouns, and strive to use words that match what the community is using. Together, we can make a more inclusive place for our underrepresented allies. I believe in you. Until next time, General Queery Sources: 20 Gender Differences in Social Interaction.

Harvard Study

#gender #nonbinary #lgbtqia #queer #pride #intersex #genderfluid #gender identity #trans ally #genderqueer #book banning #lgbtq #queer community #lgbtqplus #lgbt pride #bisexual #asexual #gay #sapphic

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insidemythought · 1 year

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Listen, I understand how uncomfortable the space of in between is.

Prior to my Spiritual Awakening, I was living a really good life in LA. I was at the pinnacle of a career. I had just revolutionized the way society interacts with social media. There were articles being written as the Godmother of Influencers. I had developed strategies for Post Malone and Swae Lee. I had produced multiple Hollywood Billboards, cast for GUESS, Bebe and for Netflix shows. I was being asked to speak at the same events as Ed Mylett, Lewis Howes and Andy Friscella. I was being flown all the globe to for appearances. I had created my own charity and events. I had significant network and a bunch of close friends. Anything I wanted I got, bought or created. I had the life I thought everyone dreamed of.

And then BOOM, all of the trauma that I had forgotten about came knocking on my door in the shape of the Dark Knight.

I had a really traumatic childhood and those events had created unhealthy patterns that I was unconscious of. From the surface it looked like I had it all figured out and I did when it came to things outside of myself. I was really deeply disconnected from myself, from my body and from my intuition or what I would call my Soul's Essence™.

As a child I had felt powerless so as an adult I looked for power outside of myself.

I thought it came from who knew you. I thought it came in a job title and how much money you got paid to do it. I thought it came in the form of how many men wanted you. Underneath a successful life I was in pain, lonely lost.

And in my desire just to feel good, I would escape through partying, traveling and finding myself in surface level relationships.

The Dark Knight holds a light to everything that was hiding in the shadows. Every piece of you that you've tried to disown and all the events that you had tried to forget about.

I remember trying to figure out what was happening to me. I got "food poisoning" six times in one year. I was having migraines that caused me miss out on travel. I kept getting into car accidents. All the sudden any meaningful relationship I had disconnected, unexplainably some faded while others blew up. I was in physical, mental and emotional pain.

I felt like I was going a little crazy as every day things started to appear to me differently, the time was always at 11:11 and the color yellow entered my awareness. I had to ask google what these things meant. I remember thinking a Spiritual Awakening - what was that? I was curious but I didn't want things to change, I mean, I was happy, but I hadn't realized that I wasn't free...

I thought I would find relief inside of crystals so after spending a thousand dollars on them, I decided to open a crystal store, which my first spiritual business store

I thought that maybe someone else had my answers so I asked fortune tellers, astrology and tarot card readers.

I thought that maybe the experts would know how to help me so I looked to self help books and podcasts. I spent countless hours consuming more content.

After the resources that I had immediately available had failed me. I decided to take matters more seriously.

I sold everything and left behind my life in LA, my family, friends and career. I went on my own "Eat, Love, Pray" adventure in the search of my answers. I sat with wisdom keepers in the jungles of Bali, Costa Rica and then landing in Tulum, Mexico. During that time I became a an energy healer as a Reiki Master. I studied psycho-cybernetics the science behind manifestation in year-long mentorships with the late Bob Proctor, who you'd know from the Secret and Regan Hillyer.

These circles were eye-opening for me, they were also incredibly solemn.

These experiences were eye-opening for me, but they were also incredibly solemn and lonesome. I was often the only young modern woman sitting in these circles. I didn't have someone to walk this path with me. I had to figure all of this out on my own.

I remember when I was in the space of in-between phase as arguably it was more painful than shadow work because it felt like forever. I would wonder if I would ever get out, would things ever get better, would I ever feel like me again?

Even though I was spiritually healing and things were starting to make sense, I was still struggling emotionally, mentally and financially.

I wasn't the girl I used to be and at time's I tried to fit myself back into that old identity but it felt like an old shirt that I had grown out of.

At times, I tried to rush myself forcing myself to take guess at my next identity, but of course, every guess would crash.

I didn't know what was coming next... However, I knew that only way was through and to keep moving forward.

It wasn't until I connected with my Soul's Essence™ that the pixelated picture became clear. Finally, I knew who I was on a Human and Soul Level - I am, Your Fairy Godmother Xuxu, aka your spiritual life mentor.

My Soul's Mission is to guide Spiritual Baddies™ through their own awakenings and support them on the path to self-liberation. I am here to lead an liberational aspect of the Earth's Ascension through purpose, passion and play.

Since then I've supported dozens of women through my offerings, in-person/virtual retreats, in private mentorships and of course, now this mastermind.

Nothing lights me up more than seeing a woman remember who she is and transform into her natural radiant, effervescent and confident self.

This is the most fulfilling work of my life to provide the tools needed for a Spiritual Baddie to connected to her own Soul's Essence and allowing it to lead her life.

I spent years of my life, traveled to the world, studied with the top thought leaders so you don't have to figure it all out on your own.

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marmotish · 2 years

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((you ever have a social interaction so odd that talking about it isn’t enough to process it and you have to draw it? no? just me? ok.))

The Ministry of Magic’s Department of Magical Transportation is not having a good day. Due to “unforeseen extenuating circumstances”, the Floo Network is temporarily out of operation, leaving Freyja in the middle of city centre at 4 in the morning after a long emergency call-out. She just wants to get home ASAP. So she decides to bite the bullet and get a Black Hack home.

Of all the things that could’ve come out of that cabbie’s mouth, she wasn’t expecting that.

#hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #freyja young #this is from my weekend from hell last week #after a 10 hour call-out i am completely buggered and decide to get a taxi home #and then the driver proceeds to spend the entire journey telling me about the sex workers he drives home after they finish work #repeatedly telling me he has no problem with what they do for a living like it’s their business #and internally i’m like bro i just want to stare out the window and start shutting my brain down #i have no energy left for meaningful social interaction

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cho-mingi · 2 years

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The semester hasn't even started and yet the feeling of "is this social anxiety or just being in a white space thats making me feel uncomfortable" is hitting hard again

#like this is my last degree im getting and i want to try my best to do well but #just the orientation panel thing before classes started was absolutely terrible #literally like 3 other POC graduate students in the entire school for incoming students...#and the only other asian person is international #i hated that interaction too he was literally one of those cutthroat violinists from julliard #anyway the admins/graduate panel was like 'learn to be kind ppl bc that will give u connections and jobs'#without acknowledging that theyre saying that bc we are being forced to play the game #or how much of that kindness is genuine if its just to play the game #bc that fakeness is one of the things i hate the most #its just so alienating to be in a white space #like i feel like even international students have their own community or whatnot #but im not either of them and am just othered all the time #everytime i try to be more social or friendly no one ever returns the same energy #like am i just not fitting your stereotype enough??? or is it bc youve already othered me that you dont even bother?#ik these thoughts arent really productive to forming meaningful connections but like #its so tiring bc nothing has worked since like my first year of college #and now i only have two years left

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chainofclovers · 3 years

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Ted Lasso 2x11 thoughts

For an episode that ends with a journalist Ted trusts but has (understandably) recently lied to warning Ted that he’s publishing an article about his panic attacks, it was fitting that this episode seemed entirely about what all of these characters choose to tell each other. And after most of a season of television that Jason Sudeikis has described as the season in which the characters go into their little caves to deal with things on their own, it turns out they are finally able to tell each other quite a lot.

Which is good because, um, wow, a lot is going to happen in the season finale of this show!

Thoughts on the things people tell each other behind the cut!

Roy and Keeley. I absolutely loved the moment during their photoshoot in which they bring up a lot of complicated emotional things and are clearly gutted (“gutted”? Who am I? A GBBO contestant who forgot to turn the oven on?) by what they’ve heard. We already know that Keeley and Roy are great at the kinds of moments they have before the shoot begins, in which Roy builds Keeley up and tells her she’s fucking amazing. From nearly the beginning of their relationship, they’ve supported each other and been each other’s biggest fans. But their relationship has gone on long enough that they’ve progressed from tentative arguments about space and individual needs into really needing to figure out what they mean to each other and how big their feelings are and what that means in relation to everything else. Watching these two confess about the uncomfortable kiss with Nate, the unexpectedly long conversation with Phoebe’s teacher, and—most painfully—the revelation that Jamie still loves Keeley didn’t feel like watching two people who are about to break up. (Although I could see them potentially needing space from each other to get clarity.) It felt like watching two people realize just how much they’d lose if they lost each other, which is an understandably scary feeling even—or especially—when you’re deeply in love but not entirely sure what the future holds. Not entirely sure what you’re capable of when you’ve never felt serious about someone in quite this way, and are realizing you have to take intentional actions to choose that relationship every single day. I’m excited to learn whether Roy and Keeley decide they need to solidify their relationship more (not necessarily an engagement, but maybe moving in together or making sure they’re both comfortable referring to the other as partner and telling people they’re in a committed relationship) or if things go in a different direction for a while.

Sharon and Ted. I’ve had this feeling of “Wow, Ted is going to feel so intense about how honest he’s been with Sharon and is going to end up getting really attached and transfer a lot of emotions onto the connection they have and that is stressful no matter how beneficial it has been for him to finally get therapy!” for a while now. And Sharon’s departure really brought that out and it was indeed stressful. But the amount of growth that’s happened for both of these characters is really stunningly and beautifully conveyed in this episode. Ted is genuinely angry she left without saying goodbye, and he doesn’t bury it some place deep inside him where it will fester for the next thirty years. He expresses his anger. (I also noticed he sweared—mildly—in front of her again, which is really a big tell for how much he has let his carefully-constructed persona relax around her.) He reads her letter even though he said he wasn’t going to, and he’s moved. I don’t think Ted has the words for his connection to Sharon beyond “we had a breakthrough,” but Sharon gets it, and is able to firmly assert a professional boundary by articulating her side of that breakthrough as an experience that has made her a better therapist. And is still able to offer Ted a different kind of closure by suggesting they go out before her train leaves. No matter how you feel about a patient/football manager seeing their therapist/team psychologist colleague socially, I appreciated this story because IMO it didn’t cross big lines but instead was about one final moment in this arc in which both Ted and Sharon saw each other clearly and modeled what it is to give someone what they need and to expect honesty and communication from them. I liked that Ted ends up being the one saying goodbye. (The mustache in the exclamation points!) I like that whether or not Sharon returns in any capacity (Sarah Niles is so wonderful that I hope she does, but I’m not sure), the goodbye these characters forge for themselves here is neither abandonment nor a new, more complicated invitation. It’s the end of a meaningful era, and although the work of healing is the work of a lifetime, it’s very beautiful to have this milestone.

Ted and Rebecca. So, maybe it’s just me, but it kinda feels like these two have a few li’l life things to catch up on?! (HAHHHHHaSdafgsdasdf!) I really adored their interactions in this episode. I maintain that Biscuits With The Boss has been happening this whole time (even when Ted’s apartment was in shambles, there’s biscuit evidence, and I feel like we’ve been seeing the biscuit boxes in Rebecca’s office pretty regularly too), even if it might have been more of a drive-by biscuit drop-off/feelings avoidance ritual. It was really lovely to see Ted on more even footing in Rebecca’s office, joking around until she tells him to shut up, just like the old days. And GOSH—for their 1x9 interaction in Ted’s office to be paralleled in this episode and for Ted to explicitly make note of the parallel in a way Rebecca hears and sees and understands?! MY HEART. In both of Rebecca’s confessions, she is not bringing good news but it is good and meaningful that she chooses to share with Ted. In both situations, Ted takes the moment in stride and offers acceptance equivalent to the gravity of what she has to confess. And in both situations, he’s not some kind of otherworldly saint, able to accept Rebecca no matter what because he’s unaffected by what she shares. He is affected. When he tells her about Sam, you can see a variety of emotions on his face. Rebecca is upset and Ted is calm, and even if I might have liked for him to try to talk about the risk the affair poses to the power dynamics on the team or any number of factors, I also really liked that he just accepts where she is, and—most importantly—does not offer her advice beyond examining herself and taking her own advice. A massive part of being in a relationship with another person (a close relationship of any nature) is figuring out how to support that person without necessarily having to be happy about every single thing they do. It’s so important that Ted connects what she’s just told him about Sam back to what she told him last season about her plot with the club. These both feel like truth bombs to him, and he is at least safe enough to make that clear. These are both things that impact him, things that shape how he sees her and maybe even how he sees himself. He cares about her and is capable of taking in this information; he has room for it. But it’s not something he takes lightly, and neither does she. See you next year.

Tumblr user chainofclovers and the TV show Ted Lasso. My brain is going wild thinking about all the ways the next “truth bomb” conversation could go in 3x11 or whatever. Maybe they go full consistent parallel and Rebecca confesses something else, this time about her and Ted or some other big future thing that impacts him as much or more as the other confessions have. (The same but different.) Maybe the tables turn and Ted has something to confess to her. While the 1x9 conversation ended in an embrace and the 2x11 conversation ended with a bit more physical distance (understandable given the current state of their relationship and the nature of the discussion), the verbal ending of both conversations involved voices moving into a sexier lower register while zooming in to talk specifically about their connection to each other, so I have to assume there will be some consistencies in s3 even if the circumstances will be completely different. I don’t really know where I’m going with this and I obviously will go insane if I sustain this level of anticipatory energy until Fall 2022 but I have a feeling my brain and heart are going to try!

Sam and Rebecca. I know there’s been a lot of criticism about whether this show is being at all realistic about the power dynamics and inevitable professional issues this relationship would create. On some level, I agree; I like that pretty much everyone who knows about the affair has been kind so far, but you can be kind and still ask someone to contend with reality. But I also think that in nearly every plot point on this show, the narrative is driven by how people feel about their circumstances first and foremost. (It’s why the whiteboard in the coaching office and the football commentators tell us more about how the actual football season is going from a points perspective than anyone else.) This episode reminded me how few people know about Sam and Rebecca, and how much their time together so far has been time spent in bed. The private sphere. I thought this episode really expertly brought the public sphere into it, not—thank goodness—through a humiliating exposure or harsh judgment but through an opportunity for Sam that illustrates not only all his potential to do great things but how much Rebecca’s professional position and personal feelings are in conflict with that. Could stand in the way of that. I don’t have a strong gut feeling about where this will go, but I do think Sam’s face in his final scene of this episode is telling. He started the episode wanting to see Rebecca (his most recent text to her was about wanting to connect), and Edwin’s arrival from Ghana really exploded his sense of what is possible for his life. If he’d arrived home to Rebecca sitting on his stoop prior to meeting Edwin, he’d have been delighted. Now he’s conflicted, and whatever decision he makes, he has to reckon with the reality that he cannot have everything he wants. No matter what. And Rebecca—she has taken Ted’s advice and is attempting to be honest about the fact that she can’t control Sam’s decisions but hopes he doesn’t go, and even saying that much feels so inappropriate. And I’m not sure how much she realizes about the inappropriateness of the position she’s putting him in, although maybe she’s getting there considering she exits the scene very quickly. I’ve honestly loved Rebecca’s arc this season. I think it’s realistic that she got obsessed with the intimacy she thought she could find in her phone. I think it’s realistic that her professional and personal ambitions are inappropriately linked. (They certainly were for Rupert. It’s been years since she’s known anything different; even if she’s done some significant recovery work to move on from her abusive marriage and figure out her own priorities, she’s got a long way to go.) I know there are people who will read this interaction between Rebecca and Sam as a totally un-self-aware thing on the part of “the show” or “the writers” but what I saw is two people who enjoyed being in bed together and now have to deal with the reality that they’re in two different places in their lives and that one has great professional power over the other. If that wasn’t in the show, I wouldn’t be able to see it or feel so strongly about it.

Edwin and Sam. I really enjoyed all the complexities of this interaction. Edwin is promising a future for Sam that doesn’t quite exist yet, though he has the financial means to make it happen. He offers this by constructing for Sam a Nigerian—and Ghanaian—experience unlike anything he’s found in London. Sam is amazed that this experience is here, and Edwin’s response is to explain to him that the experience is not here. Not really. The experience in Africa. Sam has of course connected to the other Nigerian players on the team, but this is something else entirely. I’m really curious if Sam is going to end up feeling that what Edwin has to offer is real or not. That sense of home and connection? So real. And so right that he would want to experience that homecoming and would want to be part of building that experience for others. But at the end of the day, he went to a museum full of actors and a pop-up restaurant full of “friends,” and is that constructed authenticity as a stand-in for a real homecoming more or less real than the home he’s building in Richmond? (With other players who stand in solidarity with him, and with well-meaning white coaches who say dumb stuff sometimes, and an a probably-doomed love interest, and a feeling that he should put chicken instead of goat in the jollof, and the ability to stand out as an incredible player on a rising team.)

Nate and everyone. But also Nate and no one. Nate’s story is so painful and I’m so anxious for next week’s episode. For a long time I’ve felt that a lot of Nate’s loyalties are with Richmond, and a lot of his ambitions are around having given so much to this place without getting a lot back, and having a strong feeling that he’s the answer to Richmond’s future. But now I’m not so sure; his ambitions have transferred into asking everyone he knows (except Ted, of course), if they want to be “the boss.” But Nate is all tactics and no communication. When he wants to suggest a new play to Ted, he hasn’t yet learned to read Ted’s language to learn that Ted is eager to hear what he has to say. And while Ted has been really unfortunately distracted about Nate and dismissive of him this season, he clearly respects Nate’s approach to football and was appreciative of the play. Nate just can’t hear that. The suit is such a great metaphor of all the things Nate is in too much pain to be able to hear clearly. Everyone digs at him for wearing the suit Ted bought him (including Will, who’s got to get little cuts in where he can, because he’s got to be sick of the way Nate treats him), but when he gets fed up his solution isn’t to go out on his own and find more clothes he likes; he asks Keeley to help him. And then crosses a major line with her...and no matter how kind she was about it, she was clearly not okay. Everything is going to blow up, and I’m so curious as to whether Nate will end up aligning himself with Rupert in some way or if he’s going to end up screwed over by Rupert and in turn try to screw over his colleagues even worse than he’s already done. Or try desperately to make amends even though it could be too late for some. Either way, I’m fully prepared to feel devastated. (And there’s no way I’m giving up on this character. If he’s able to learn, I truly believe he could end up seeking forgiveness and forging a happier existence for himself. Someday. Like in season 3 or something.)

Ted and Trent. Trent deciding to reveal his source to Ted is a huge deal, and I’m torn between so many emotions about this exposé. I’m glad it’s a Trent Crimm piece and not an Ernie Loundes piece. I’m glad that Trent made the decision to warn Ted and let him know that Nate is his source. I fear—but also hope—that this exposure will set off a chain reaction of Ted learning about some of the things he’s missed while suffering through a really bad bout with his dad-grief and panic disorder. The things Ted doesn’t know would devastate him. I wonder if Ted will want to figure out a way to make Nate feel heard and reconcile with him, and I wonder how that will be complicated if/when he realizes Nate has severely bullied Will, gets more details on how he mistreated Colin, etc. I wonder if Rebecca, whom Nate called a “shrew” right before she announced his promotion, will be in the position of having to ask Ted to fire him, or overriding Ted and doing it herself. So many questions! I have a feeling it’ll go in some wild yet very human-scaled, emotionally-nuanced direction, and I’ll be like “Oh my GOD!” but also like “Oh, of course.”

This VERY SERIOUS AND EMOTIONAL REVIEW has a major flaw, which is that none of the above conversations include mention of the absolute love letter to N*SYNC. Ted passionately explains how things should go while dancing ridiculously! Will turns on the music and starts gyrating! Roy nods supportively! Beard shouts the choreography like the Broadway choreographer of teaching grown men who play football how to dance like a boy band. Everyone is so incredibly proud when they nail it. I love them.

I cannot believe next week is the end. For now. I’m kind of looking forward to letting everything settle during the hiatus, but I’ve really loved the ride.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #ted lasso 2x11 #meta by me #ALL THE FEELINGS!!!!#a lesbian watches ted lasso

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sugoi-and-spice · 2 years

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Chapter Five - Prodigies

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Fem!Reader, (3rd Person)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad's boss's son. He was the creep that stole girls' underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it's not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn't sleep with him, right? ...right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love

A/N: And here is a NEW chapter! Had a lot of fun with tutor goblin Shigaraki, I hope you will too!

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[EXCERPT]

Looking back, she realized that she’d actually known Tomura Shigaraki since middle school. That wasn’t so unbelievable honestly. Middle school was when her Dad had gotten that big promotion into the corporate sector at the company. It was when he got a huge pay bump and her Mom was able to quit her job to be a stay at home Mom. It was when she’d started attending private school.

Even so, it’s not like they ever had any kind of relationship or meaningful interaction. Shigaraki was a year above her, after all. They weren’t in the same club and they were nowhere close to running in the same social circles. He was even more standoffish back in middle school, although in more of a gloomy way rather than the creepy pervert way he’d come to be associated with in high school.

No, there was only one interaction of note that she could honestly point to having with Shigaraki before entering their mandatory “friendship”. And it was laughably forgettable.

It was her first year of high school. She’d twisted her ankle in the class relay during the Sports Festival, so Mirio and Tamaki had carried her to the Nurse’s office with Nejire and Yuyu doting close behind. Shigaraki had already been in the office at the time, where the Nurse had been bandaging a spot on his neck.

Her friends had been their usual whirlwind of energy and positivity.

“It’s just so sad!” Nejire cried, “Now you’re gonna miss the Cheerleading competition.”

“O-Oh yeah. Bummer…” she’d feigned disappointment.

Secretly being a bit glad she wasn’t going to have to squeeze into that embarrassing little uniform and stumble through a dance routine with her two left feet.

“You guys will just have to cheer that much harder to make up for it!” Mirio had encouraged.

He was met with a loud round of cheers from the group that quickly caught the ire of the Nurse.

“Alright you all, I know you’re excited, but if you’re going to cause a ruckus, you need to take it outside.” she shooed.

“Oh! Yes of course Ma’am, sorry about that!” Mirio quickly stood and bowed apologetically.

The rest of the group followed his lead and made their way to the door.

“Get lots of rest!” Mirio grinned at her, “We’ll come check on you later.”

She smiled back, probably a bit too wide to be genuine, “See you then!”

“Far too noisy.” the Nurse tsked as they hurried out, before looking back to her new patient in the infirmary bed, “Dear, are you okay to wait another minute while I finish this up?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She sank back against the pillows with a sigh. Even with her ankle throbbing and a thick film of dirt covering her skin from the tumble she took, she finally felt relaxed.

She’d remembered thinking to herself, that while her new high school friends were obviously wonderful, good people and a lot of fun to be around — hanging out with them took a lot out of her.

And then she felt it. Shigaraki was staring at her. She met his gaze, and yet he didn’t look away. Just continued to bare into her soul. To dissect her.

So creepy.

“Okay, you’re good to return dear.” he finally looked away when the Nurse patted his knee.

“You can’t just send me home?” he’d spat.

“Not without a call home.”

He scowled, obviously unhappy with that response, but accepting it.

The Nurse’s brows furrowed, “...do I need to call home?”

Shigaraki rose with a grunt, “No.”

He paused for a moment in the doorway, throwing one last look back at the girl in the bed. It was quick, but she remembered catching a glimpse of an eye roll as he then continued on his way out.

Continue on AO3

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sansimeonsims · 2 years

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An Announcement

Magandang araw po, mga kaibigan.

These past few months, I haven't done a lot of updates to San Simeon and my other Filipino-themed worlds. I've been going through a few things in real life and current events aren't helping at all. Thus, I had to focus on my mental health and professional commitments. What little time I had for simming, I reserved for low commitment projects like the Praaven Cathedral.

To put it in the most delicate possible words, shit happened. And the build up to it sucked the joy out of many of my projects. Our current social climate isn't exactly friendly to faithful depictions of history. This goes double for contemporary history past the Second World War. And this atmosphere is likely to get even more hostile moving forward.

What Now?

While these events have made it rather stressful to make my content, it didn't dent my love for it. I would like nothing more than to share my country's history and culture with others. I am honored to share my work to both to my fellow Filipinos and to the international Sims 3 community. The work and goodwill I've earned from making San Simeon and its sister projects makes it all worth it.

I've already made 2 commitments that I plan to see through to the end. One is the a remade San Simeon and the other is a precolonial version set before Spanish rule. Although I couldn't muster the mental energy to work on them, I can commit to at least finish them for everyone’s sake.

What I cannot promise is if I can continue my other world building project, Camayao. This is set in a more contemporaneous Philippines and had elements of social satire. At present, I live in a cultural zeitgeist where I could get a lot of grief for doing so. And that is putting it lightly.

This, coupled with the difficulty involved in its creation, makes Camayao a tall order on its own. Events in the past few months was the final nail in the coffin for this project and others like it. I will not make any more contemporary Filipino-themed builds in the Sims 3 set in a time past 1945.

What Next?

That said, I've already done a lot of the individual buildings. It would be a crying shame to see them languish in some folder. Maybe they can find a good home with someone else.

What am I to do with the content already created?

Some will be released as individual lot files, depending on their level of completion.

Others will be released alongside San Simeon to fill in some of the newer lots I've added to the much larger world. This has the added benefit of making that other project less of a pain to finish.

If nothing else, my past efforts will hopefully not be consigned to obscurity.

Will I ever come back to Camayao as a full world building project? I can't say. Maybe someday, but then again maybe not. I’ve a lot on my plate personality-wise. I also have other things that interest me that won’t give me as much grief. After I finish, I will resume work on the Roman world and a few others I've had planned.

Would I allow someone else to pick up where I left off? I'm not sure, but I am open to the idea. Feel free to contact me if you’re interested in adopting it yourself. As for my other, still active projects, that is a subject for another day.

On the Matter of Facebook

My projects first became truly popular on Facebook, where I enjoyed a brief moment of Internet fame as “the guy who made a Filipino-themed Sims 3 world.” Since then, I’ve created a page to have the Facebook people see some of my newer builds and appreciate Filipino history and culture.

In the past few months, however, I found it better for my mental health to ignore Facebook. Indeed, I find interacting on that site a mentally taxing chore. As pleasant as my success there was, I am not overly attached to my following there at all. In any case, the majority of any meaningful engagement I’ve had had been on Tumblr anyway. However, since part of my real-world jobs involve managing a Facebook page, I cannot disengage completely, even if I can ignore it for health purposes.

In the interest of my followers there, I will set things up so that they get alerted for my Tumblr uploads moving forward. I should have it done in a few days after this is published.

Closing Thoughts

I’d like to thank you all for being part of this journey of discovery with me. What began as a simple set of builds for a Filipino-themed legacy challenge eventually became an obsession that lasted nearly a decade. I enjoyed learning new things about my country’s history, and it felt nice knowing that it had an impact on not just myself but the Sims 3 community and my fellow Filipinos who stumbled upon it. The appreciation you all gave certainly helped keep me going.

We live in a time where knowing the truth of our past is in jeopardy. As the old Tagalog proverb goes, whoever can’t look back can never truly move forward. I’d like to close this statement with a line from Doc J. himself:

“But the generation that deciphers these characters will be an intelligent generation, it will understand and say, ‘Not all were asleep in the night of our ancestors!’“

#Announcements #It's been a Don Anastacio kind of week

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flooffybits · 4 years

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At Your Corner

Idol: Kim Minji (Dreamcatcher)

Anon: my heart just broke bc i saw a pic of minji smiling but trying to hide her pain when their deja vu win got snatched by the sh*w so may i request a scenario with jiu being sad abt that but since shes in public, she needs to smile for the fans. 8th member reader who doesnt rlly show her emotions notices and just lets her kid side out like suddenly jumping in front of jiu and going "hey im a race car get on!" to make her laugh then fans coo and stuff? sry if this is a mess u can change anything tnx

A/n: this came very recently and i don’t usually work on newer requests but this fit my mood way too much that i couldn’t help BUT write it

☕buy me a coffee☕

Standing at the corner of the room, you survey the scene and watch as your members all look exhausted after everything you’ve been through.

It’s quieter than usual, and while you usually preferred it, you hated this silence.

Once again, you were close to finally obtaining a win for your group, and yet you were just a few points too short when The Show finally released the results. You could feel as your members’ shoulders visibly fell when you were all finally off the stage and from the public eye. You had all worked so hard and believed that this comeback would finally be the one to get you a win.

The first weeks of promotions had made you start to lose hope when you had yet to obtain what your group desired, but your leader remained optimistic through it all, telling you that it wasn’t over and that you still had more chances. Yet in the end, her optimism was snuffed out as she sat by the corner, head in her hands as she struggled to pull herself together for when you all had to leave the venue and face your fans.

To make matters worse, Handong was leaving for China in a few days.

With a shaky breath, you turned away and shrugged off your stage outfit, replacing it with the shirt you previously wore, tossing on your hoodie and cap when you were done before heading out of the room, one of your managers quickly following after you as Bora’s frown deepened when she caught a glimpse of your expression.

“Come on, girls. We have to get going soon.” Minji called after she cleaned her face and dusted herself off. She watched as Yoohyeon hurried and quickly left, silently asking your remaining managers where you had gone off to before she went to find you.

With a heavy heart, the girls exited the waiting room and headed for the building exit where you and Yoohyeon were already waiting, the younger girl holding your hand while she kept her head on your shoulder, nuzzling against you for comfort whilst you held her closer to yourself with your own head down.

Minji felt a tug in her heart to see you, but when she tried to reach you, Siyeon tugged at her arm and then shook her head, knowing that there would be no getting to you at this point.

While you rarely expressed yourself, it was easy to tell when you wanted to shut everything and everyone out. You would let the girls come near you, but you wouldn’t say a single thing or react to anything they’ll say except for a nod or a shake of the head in case they ask you something.

“Unnie told me she was with Everglow before Yoohyeon unnie found her.” Gahyeon muttered softly from beside the vocalist. “She said she was trying to make them feel better because of the votes.”

It was a little after you all exited the stage when people began making comments online about miscalculations. As much as it was a possibility, you and your members decided not to look into it just so it wouldn’t further worsen your mood. You were already upset with having lost, it made you feel even worse to know that your dongsaengs were most likely receiving backlash with everything that was happening.

“It’s going to be okay.” Bora murmured, squeezing her friend’s hand as they approached you and the quiet girl. Handong offered you a small smile, but you merely nodded at her before looking to the door, hearing the shouts of fans that were waiting for you.

You lower your cap over your eyes just to avoid making further eye contact with anyone before finally leaving the venue, eyes squinting at the flashing of the cameras. Yoohyeon had let go of you to join Bora and Yubin’s side. Siyeon and Gahyeon stood closely side by side and Minji was clinging to Handong in order to comfort both of them.

And it just hurt so much more to see them forcing smiles on their faces when you knew just how terrible they all felt. You also knew that your own fans felt just as bad, seeing the tears on some of them when the winners were announced.

Right now, you felt stuck because it was usually Gahyeon and Minji who kept bright smiles on their faces. Your members were always eager to interact with fans, just like you, but this whole predicament merely took its toll on all of you.

But you refused to let this night end with them in tears.

Smiling, you waved to your fans and tried to give off the energy your members were lacking despite how it would usually be the other way around. Looking to your managers for permission, they were a little less strict this time around when they knew you just needed some space and allowed you to approach some fans.

Your members were somewhat surprised as you stepped away from them to greet everyone, thanking each of them for coming and supporting you all. Minji could feel her eyes watering at the sight of you trying your absolute best in covering for all of them, even trying to distract fans from noticing their weary state.

“Please be safe when you get home! The others are a little tired so please understand.” You tell them with a meaningful look and you were just grateful to know you had such understanding and thoughtful fans.

Even with the blinding flashes of the camera, you did your best speaking with them until your eyes landed on a few teary eyed Somnias. You felt your throat close up, but you do your best to swallow your emotions before approaching them. “Hey, why are you crying?” You asked and they turn to you with sadness swimming in their glossy eyes.

“We wanted to finally give you all a win, but we couldn’t do it.” One of them answers, your expression softening before you shook your head and opened your arms for them. Giving them both a warm hug, you patted their backs before giving them a small squeeze. “You guys did more than enough. You got us nominated, and that’s a really big thing, so thank you.” You assure them with your best smile,

“We’ll keep working harder, so please don’t be sad.”

Seeing your interaction with the fans pushed tears to Siyeon’s eyes and she had to avert her gaze while Bora wiped at the corner of her own eyes at your selflessness.

It didn’t take long before you came bounding over to your members and you sported a grin as you patted all of them, be it on the arm of back. “Come on, come on! I’m hungry, aren’t you?” You question playfully, earning a giggle from Yubin while Handong reached to pinch your cheeks.

When you turn to your leader, you smile before turning around so your back is facing her then gesture for her to hope onto your back. “Unnie, everyone is slow! Come on, you can get the food faster if you come with me.”

Minji couldn’t help but laugh at your display, her heart warming at your rare carefree personality and knowing that you were doing this for them.

So, without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around your shoulder as you crouched down before allowing you to lift her on her back, laughter bubbling from her lips as you carried her away from the rest of your members while they watched on with smiles on their faces, happy to see your leader a little better compared to earlier.

“Yah! Unnie, be careful!” Gahyeon called out when Minji squealed after you nearly tripped, but you were able to tighten your hold on her legs, securing her on your back before you decided to merely walk instead of run to the van, the older woman’s face tucked comfortably against your neck that you could feel her smiling against your skin.

You didn’t have to go out of your way to check up on her and make her feel better, but she appreciated how you still did so without anyone having to ask you to do it. As quiet as you were, she loved the way you were ready to come to their aid.

“Thank you.” You hear her whisper and you hum while shrugging your shoulders lightly. “It’s nothing, unnie.” Though despite your words, she knows that you were relieved to have her, and the others, smiling as well.

Later that night, there are articles about you and your actions for that day. Pictures of you with fans and Minji, especially, circulate everywhere, but the girls decide that staying off social media would be healthy for them as they happily ate the food that you had asked your managers to bring to the dorm.

“Do you think we should wake her up?” Yubin asked when she glanced to your shared room, but Handong shook her head and smiled after drinking some water. “Jiu unnie did say she’ll take care of Y/n, so we can wait until they’re back.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen Y/n unnie have that much energy.” Yoohyeon commented after chewing her food, Gahyeon nodding in agreement with a tiny smile on her face. “Unnie is honestly so cute. I wanted to cry when she was hugging and comforting Somnias.” The maknae pouted while Bora giggled. “That kid is really unpredicatable sometimes.”

Siyeon scoffed at her claim, chopsticks pointed in the dancer’s direction. “Speak for yourself.” That earned a smack on the arm as Handong burst into laughter, everyone else following after as they exchanged more stories, forgetting about the award show and their previous concnerns.

Meanwhile, Minji looked down at you with a fond smile as you laid on her chest, arms wrapped around her waist as she kept her own around your slightly smaller frame.

As much as she cried earlier, you were able to make her feel better. Even as you slept soundly against her, she would thank you endlessly for being in her life and picking her up whenever she was down.

Somewhere along the way, she realized that some trophy meant nothing compared to the love and support she’s received from the people who surrounded her. While it was nice to have that recognition for the group, she would pick a group that was stable and gave as much as they received any day.

As long as you were among those people, her heart was safe and sound.

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

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Now that it's over, what do you think of Superman and the Authority? Personally I wish that it were longer (for more interactions between the team) and that Janin was able to draw all of it.

Definitely feel the same but what we got I still very much enjoyed.

Felt like Morrison was bursting with energy as they wrote this and it's a shame that we didn't get to see 12 issues because it really did feel like the opening shot of an all time run. Character interactions were funny and well-written, the plot felt like an exciting mix of Ellis/Hitch Authority and traditional Morrison Superman, and Janin's art was fucking amazing. Even the fill-in artists brought their A-game. Sadly for diehard Morrison fans, what this ends up being is setup for other writers: PKJ, Taylor, maybe King, and all the other future Superman (or hopefully DCU in general) writers who will follow. Parallels can be drawn between Superman needing to recruit young members of a fresh generation to aid him and Morrison entrusting their ideas and hopes for the character to a new generation of Superman writers. Sadness mixed with hope is how I would characterize the tone of the work, this isn't a story about a transcendent Superman ascending beyond mortal concerns, but a tired aging hero who is rolling up his sleeves one last time and diving into the fray. Similarities can also be drawn there as well between character and writer.

Superman himself is clearly being use as a conduit for Morrison's reflections on their long career. Like Superman, Morrison began their career with a lot of high hopes for how they wanted to shape the DCU. Morrison worked on a wide range of properties from the A-Listers (Superman, Batman, GL, Justice League, Flash, Wonder Woman) to the Z-Listers (Seven Soldiers, Doom Patrol, Animal Man) and they've left a huge mark on the DCU. Both Superman and Morrison have accomplished a lot they are proud of, yet there is still a sense of disappointment as they take in the status quo.

When Morrison first started working on DC Comics it was with the aim of showing that grim and gritty "realism" wasn't the only format of mature storytelling. Animal Man and Doom Patrol were comics that explored meaningful and relevant topics in ways other than simply copying Alan Moore or Frank Miller. JLA was as unrealistic a book as you could get, yet it laid the foundation for a new conception of what the League could be. Morrison attempted to get DC to see the potential in their properties beyond chasing the ghosts of Watchmen and DKR. They succeeded in some aspects, look at how successful the Doom Patrol show is, but failed overall. WB/DC is still a company obsessed with Batman, with their recent failed attempt as a Cinematic Universe attempting to force everything to adhere to Miller Batman's tone. Likewise, social ills that were present when Superman began his career are still there, and Clark is rueful about how little he and the Justice League has accomplished to change that. Rich still exploit the poor, environmental catastrophe is on the rise, and the superheroes are just as powerless to do anything about it as they were when Superman advocated the League tackle global hunger in Action Comics.

There's also another figure who can be seen as a Morrison conduit for reflection: Manchester Black. Once long ago Black was a hotshot punk who was out to shake up the superhero status quo, and chose to make a name for himself by picking a fight with the premiere figure in that industry. Remind you of anyone? Maybe a cocky Scot, harboring dreams of redefining corporate comics, who talked trash about Alan Moore in their early career? Easy to see Black as a vehicle for Morrison to look back on both their big ambitions and bad behavior. Much like Morrison themselves, there's still fire in Black, but he's a long ways from the days when he seemed poised to dominate the spotlight. Potential is still there to make a difference one last time however.

Ultimately potential is what the main theme of Superman & the Authority is about. How it's been wasted in the form of the old heroes and the old villains. How it's still present in the form of the younger Authority members. Superman and Manchester Black never lived up to their complete potential. Superman got caught up dealing with Crises and reboots and lost his goal of making a real difference. Manchester Black got slapped down by Superman and became "a bloody supervillain" instead of being the (admittedly violent and cynical) hero he originally set out to be. Ultra-Humanite can't conceive of doing anything except the same old same old, trying to steal Clark's body and prove how smart he is. Brainiac (with Janin clearly mimicking Ross in using Morrison as the model) also wants to "save" Earth by bottling it, robbing it of it's potential to change and grow but preserving it in stasis.

Ultra-Humanite himself is fantastic, I'm really bummed that Morrison only wrote them briefly here. Wish they had used Superman's first villain in their Action run because he would have been a perfect fit and their take on him is extremely entertaining. Total braggart lacking any self-awareness about the obvious deep-seeded insecurity he feels, having multiple brains with his consciousness ready to go, his own secret satellite stocked with fresh bodies for any occasion. Humanite is the classic supervillain who refuses to evolve or change his methods. No pretense of noble goals here, he's the original super villain and proud of it. Really hope that Humanite making plans to attack Jon (showing that he has no potential to be anything beyond what he is now) means he's going to show up in Superman: Son of Kal-El.

Only the youth truly still have the potential to make a difference, and only by allying with them can Superman and Manchester still have a hope of fulfilling their own potential. Apollo and Midnighter have it in them to be as an effective a duo as Superman and Batman, and now they're being given a chance. Enchantress and Steel II have been around but either on a team that abused them (Suicide Squad) or as a sidekick to the main hero (Natasha). Lightray and OMAC are newcomers who bring a fresh perspective. Jon Kent is also mentioned because as the new Superman, he has the potential to live up to his dad's original ambitions (something Taylor is exploring in Superman: Son of Kal-El). Authority lineup is basically JLQ without the cringeworthy name. Amazing that the Superman books are probably the most LGBT+ friendly books at DC right now.

Bringing it back to the Morrison comparison, Morrison has also allied themselves with the "youth" to achieve a goal. They talked with PKJ so that S&tA could be in canon, they helped craft the Future State Superbooks, and they gave a thumbs up to PKJ's plans for Action. Also they wrote up a document that offers suggestions to where the books could go. Whether those suggestions or not get followed however is in the hands of the creative teams, PKJ, Taylor, King, and their successors.

As a send-off to Morrison's time with Superman comics, this was the most enjoyable thing I've read from them since Action itself. Funny, heartwarming, ambitious, avoiding the temptation to wallow in nostalgia (look at the shots they threw at All-Star Superman by including memorabilia from All-Star's Fortress as Black mocks how Superman became an outdated relic!) this mourned how Superman has fallen short while still defiantly insisting he still has something to offer. I wish Morrison well and hope they find great success in Hollywood. Right now Superman looks to be in good hands, the kids are alright, and they will take it from here.

#superman #superman and the authority #grant morrison #dc comics #apollo #midnighter #the authority #omac #lightray #steel #manchester black #enchantress #mikel janin #phillip kennedy johnson #tom taylor

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johannas-motivational-insults · 4 years

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“Friendship” in the Horde

Season 4 raised some interesting questions about how people who grew up in the Horde define friendship. Kyle claimed that his squadmates were his friends, despite how we've seen them bully him, and Scorpia admitted she didn’t even know how to be a good friend. We also saw further developments in Catra and Lonnie’s dynamic that have some interesting implications about their bond, both past and present. However, while these themes became more explicit this season, they are hardly new. The Horde worldbuilding is really quite brilliant, as the writers have been laying the foundation for these revelations by showcasing certain patterns since season one.

This got a little lengthy on me, but there was a lot to consider. The lack of healthy emotional expression and relationship modelling is one obvious problem in the Horde, but the hostile environment has also led to some very specific power dynamics and social structures. These structures, while potentially helpful in hostile environments, are maladaptive in terms of fostering healthy relationships. Ultimately, every character who grew up in the Horde is emotionally crippled. (I’m not even going into Adora, an excellent example, because her repression and communication problems are well-documented and I wanted to focus on characters still in this environment.)

Scorpia

Let’s start with Scorpia. Her revelation that she doesn’t understand what friendship is was a big moment for her, but for those of us who have been watching closely, it’s no big surprise. Scorpia was so desperate for a meaningful connection that she latched onto the first person who showed any signs of considering her a friend, ignoring all the red flags indicating that the relationship was not healthy. Actually, she didn’t ignore them so much as not recognize them, because she didn’t even know what a healthy relationship looks like. To her, the fact that Catra invited her to her room and chose her to accompany her on a mission was enough for her to dub them the Superpal Duo.

Of course, we all know how that went for her. She continued to support Catra unconditionally despite the latter’s tendency to use Scorpia as her emotional punching bag. They did settle into a somewhat more reciprocal and caring relationship after Scorpia saved Catra against her orders during 2x05, proving that Catra was more important to her than the mission (even if that wasn’t what Catra thought she wanted). It’s sad when you think about it, because that was probably the first time Catra ever experienced her wellbeing being prioritized above all else.

Unfortunately, the revelation that Shadow Weaver had gone running back to Adora after betraying her triggered a trauma response and made her clam up again, lashing out at Scorpia and shutting her out even though she had done nothing to betray her trust. It took Catra blatantly attacking and insulting Scorpia when she failed to bring back Entrapta’s recordings (and some well timed reality checks from Emily) for Scorpia to realize that Catra was being a bad friend and she couldn’t win her over by being a good friend.

And actually, Scorpia’s confession in 4x10 that she “thought” she was being a good friend to Catra implies that she had since realized that she wasn’t actually being a good friend to Catra either. She knows the scorpions were a loyal people and she ascribes to that ideal, and she has so much love to give and always tries so hard to be positive, but not setting boundaries with people or demanding a measure of basic respect does nothing for them or you. Also, you can’t ignore the fact that Scorpia forced her affections on Catra, inserting herself into Catra’s life in a way that made her uncomfortable, and continued to ignore Catra’s attempts at setting boundaries with her (which is also very disrespectful). While Catra was certainly the aggressor, she was not the only one who failed in this partnership.

Let’s go back for a moment to Scorpia’s earliest indication that Catra might want to be her friend, when she confides in her and enlists her help coming up with and then executing a plan. Being chosen as Catra’s wingman seems to be important here, and perhaps she was wilfully ignoring how she was the only person who could make Catra’s plan work, but being confided in and trusted was huge to her. And since Horde soldiers are so used to being used, they don’t see it as a red flag. Catra actually flat out said Scorpia was the only person she could trust. How could a lonely gay not interpret that as a sign of being special to someone?

The squad

The importance of trust also becomes evident when considering the interactions among the main squad. Loyalty seems to be paramount in the Horde, not just the scorpion kingdom. Adora defecting to the Rebellion and leaving her squad behind was seen as a huge betrayal, and not just by Catra. Did anyone else want to cry when Lonnie struck back at Adora with “we were your friends” in 1x09? Lonnie was deeply hurt by Adora’s abandonment, feeding into her disillusionment with the Horde. Similarly, when Double Trouble revealed they had double-crossed Catra, her devastated reaction was not that her plans were ruined, but that they had betrayed her. That no doubt was also related to her previous betrayals, but also serves to highlight the importance of loyalty in their subculture.

While all the Horde characters were interesting to watch this season when it came to the themes of friendship, the arc was most pronounced in Lonnie. As I’ve mentioned previously, Scorpia had a short arc over one episode where her rosy worldview was destroyed, causing her to leave (much like Adora), while Lonnie was already a cynic who was aware of the Horde’s imperfections and had to go through more extreme hardships to detach from this unhappy but familiar environment (much like Catra, we hope).

Though she and the boys didn’t leave the Horde until the finale, her disillusionment was already evident in her first episode this season. After Catra berated them for something that wasn’t their fault and demanded they risk their lives to fix it (big Hordak energy), she had her first big revelation: “Catra doesn’t care about us, Adora left us. Everything they taught us in the Horde about loyalty is meaningless. It’s everyone for themselves.” In the next episode, she was frustrated by Scorpia’s naïve enthusiasm and trust in Catra, but it took a big blow up between her and Catra for her to finally decide she was done with her, done with the Horde in general.

Kyle represents a sort of middle ground between Lonnie and Scorpia in terms of outlook. He was not treated well in the Horde, but still believed in the ideals of loyalty and squad unity. He wanted to believe Catra had sent them out on a mission into the Whispering Woods because she trusted them and wanted it to be a team-building exercise. His take on it was: “She may be mean, but we’ve always had each other’s backs. Ever since we were kids.” He saw the squad as his family, including Catra (and previously Adora). It took Catra baring her claws and threatening to attack Lonnie outside of a battle sim for him to lose faith in her.

Bullying, the pecking order, and squad unity

As is clear by this point, the Horde defections this season were driven by Catra mistreating the others, but we can’t lose sight of how mistreatment is a fact of daily life in the Horde. And as I mentioned above with Lonnie, it’s those who were most aware of and desensitized to the mistreatment who had the hardest time naming it and leaving the toxic environment. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, call it the sunk cost fallacy, but either way once you’ve submitted to a system that dehumanizes you, it’s hard to admit that that system is wrong and leave it for a better life. Scorpia and Adora grew up somewhat privileged in the Horde in that they were destined for greatness, so they were never abused overtly and they had a level of protection from power-hungry cadets looking to claw their way to the top of the heap. They were already at the top and couldn’t be taken down, so they didn’t have to bully or be bullied.

The importance of pecking order is much more evident when considering people like Kyle, Catra, and Lonnie. Within their squad, Kyle is obviously the omega of the gang (get your heads out of the gutter, that is not what I mean), the one who gets blamed for everything that goes wrong and is constantly getting picked on. Lonnie shits on him, Catra shits on him, and even Rogelio gives him shit and goes along with the blame game. Despite all this, Kyle considers them his friends, his family.

This starts to make sense when you consider it in terms of intra vs. extra squad relations. Maybe the squad didn’t show Kyle any respect or treat him with kindness, but they did protect him in battle sims (sometimes lol) and rescue him from the spore storm. You also kind of get the impression that although they bullied him and asserted their dominance on the regs, they would protect him if other people tried to hurt him. You might say he’s the pet of the gang – he has no power within the structure and it may not be pleasant, but the structure still offers advantages. Having allies was still good for him even if he was at the bottom of the pecking order within the alliance.

Through a sociology lens, you might say the squad (and the Horde in general, given it’s a military society) follows the stereotypical male model of friend groups with clear pecking orders that everyone buys into (with exceptions for blatant power struggles), as opposed to the stereotypical female model that appears less hostile and more cooperative outwardly but involves a lot of underhanded infighting. (Obviously those are broad generalizations and it can be argued how much of it is nature vs. nurture, but they are observable patterns that boys and girls are socialized into in many human societies.) This ties in interestingly to @jaelav3‘s observations about masculinity equating to strength and femininity equating to power in the Horde (a meta she really needs to write, because it’s brilliant). The hostility of the Horde forces soldiers into these rigid pecking orders in order to find protection in a dangerous place. When everyone knows and accepts their role, it is easier for the squad to function in a unified manner and protect each other, even if it’s at the cost of their mental and emotional health.

Now, when not everybody buys into the pecking order or it’s ambiguous, and/or if there’s a sudden power vacuum, that’s when things get interesting…

Catra and Lonnie, the perfect case study

Catra also suffered a lot of bullying and abuse in the Horde, but in a very different way than Kyle. She was in a unique and kind of contradictory position where she was somewhat protected by her close friendship with Adora, but she was also Shadow Weaver’s favourite chew toy and everyone knew it, which made her a target as well. If Shadow Weaver abused her, she wasn’t going to care if the other cadets abused her as well. Catra’s defensive body language and general distrustfulness and hostility gives the impression that she was bullied behind Adora’s back and Shadow Weaver turned a blind eye, perhaps even encouraged it.

This was all illustrated in 1x03, when Catra and Lonnie butted heads and Catra was forced to back down when two other cadets backed up Lonnie, then Lonnie told her to watch it because Adora wasn’t around to protect her anymore. That one line alone told so much of their story. This was also one of the few times we saw cadets using people from other squads to affect their own squad’s dynamics, as – like I said – that seems to be kept mostly in-house. It may have had something to do with Lonnie’s overall standing among the cadets or how Kyle and Rogelio rank lower in their little hierarchy and seem uninterested in getting involved with the power politics, but I digress.

The argument itself was meaningless, really - the whole thing was a pissing contest, an attempt to assert dominance within their squad’s sudden power vacuum. Lonnie fancied herself the new leader of the squad, and she ended up getting her wish in a backwards way when Catra was promoted out of the squad and given official power over her. Catra, of course, took every opportunity to rub this in Lonnie’s face, perpetuating the cycle of abuse she’d fallen victim to.

The reason they had a power struggle in the first place wasn’t just because Adora left, it was because their pecking order was previously unclear. Catra wasn’t very cooperative and tended to go rogue, so she didn’t slot nicely into the power structure. She was also perceived as lazy, as she had adopted an air of nonchalance once she realized she’d never get the recognition or praise so easily heaped on Adora. (Why try when failing hurts so much?) That being said, she was Adora’s best friend and basically her sidekick, so in a way that made her second-in-command of the squad.

On the other hand, Lonnie was devoted to the squad and was always around to provide tangible support, so she was also kind of Adora’s second-in-command. Combined with her harder work ethic, this also gave her a very legitimate claim to the throne. She was obviously pissed when her teammate she saw as a lazy asshat got promoted, but to her credit she lived up to her own personal ethics, buying in and not pushing back against Catra’s authority until late in season 4.

Despite the power struggle, however, Catra and Lonnie do seem to have a bond. Even if they don’t like each other, they have a certain level of trust in each other. When the princesses invaded the Fright Zone in 3x04 and shit started to go sideways, the first person Catra was looking for to try to get support and/or answers was Lonnie. Then in 4x10 when she was starting to lose her mind amid a lack of sleep and Scorpia’s defection, she pulled Lonnie aside and demanded to know what was going on among the soldiers, what they thought of her.

This was an incredibly interesting scene with some deep implications. Because while it was on one hand an expression of trust in Lonnie, it was also an acknowledgement that Lonnie was one of her bullies and held clout among the people who have demeaned and abused her in the past. It also showed that Catra still has social anxiety and her sense of social power (as opposed to power in terms of rank) is very fragile, which is extremely characteristic of a bullying victim. Also, the fact that Catra said, “Just leave. Like everybody else.” implied that Lonnie leaving would hurt her emotionally, which is rather illuminating.

As for Lonnie, her loyalty meant she bought into the system and expected to Catra to do her job running the place, taking care of the Horde. And Catra certainly succeeded early on, taking territory and increasing productivity. In return, Lonnie was a loyal and obedient soldier, even if she never hesitated to give Catra a bit of attitude. But she became frustrated in season 4 when Catra went on her sunk cost fallacy spiral and ended up making things worse for everyone else as well as herself. This failure was a huge betrayal to Lonnie, and it’s important to note that she wouldn’t feel betrayed or disappointed if she had expected nothing of Catra in the first place. It’s one thing to be kind of a dick about your superior rank, another entirely to endanger your squad/friends (or anyone you are responsible for, really) and run them into the ground as a remedy for your own anxiety.

The breaking point of course was the scene in the locker room in 4x12, when a lonely Catra tried to be “friends” with the squad again and was briefly successful in mending fences a little until she snapped at Kyle and then at Lonnie, calling them pathetic. This prompted Lonnie to shove her, which in turn made Catra bare her claws and rush Lonnie. There was really no coming back from that, even though Kyle intervened before anyone got hurt.

As an aside, Kyle stepping up in this scene was amazing - this season in general was everything I wanted for him. And it’s important that it was him who intervened, because he was really the only one who could ask Catra, “We used to be your friends, why are you treating us like this?” It makes perfect sense for Catra to push back at Lonnie given their history, but Kyle doesn’t have a history of bullying Catra (quite the opposite). And wow, it had an impact on Catra. You could just see the confusion and regret on her face before she brings back the façade of anger and kicks them out.

When the squad left the Horde, Lonnie said that they were done protecting Catra. This assertion is interesting, given their checkered past – since when was anyone protecting Catra? Lonnie bullied her, and none of them protected Catra from Shadow Weaver, not even Adora (though bless her heart, she tried). But this does make some sense when you consider how much of the idea of friendship is based on loyalty, and how important that adherence to the structure is for protection. In Lonnie’s mind, even if Catra was now their commander, they were still a unit in a way. And she saw standing by and obeying Catra to be a form of protection, helping her stay respected and carry out her plans. Lonnie is a good support person, and by removing her support, she was in a way removing her protection as well.

(After the series is over I might just go all out and do a huge-ass meta about Catra and Lonnie through the seasons. I am absolutely fascinated by this relationship, if you can’t tell.)

Allyship

Overall, you can’t help but get the impression that the Horde’s version of friendship is more akin to allyship. It’s protection, unity, loyalty. However, that doesn’t mean they don’t get emotionally attached, it’s more that how you feel about someone is less important than what that relationship can do for you. That’s why Scorpia doesn’t even understand what friendship is. That’s why Catra tolerates “friends” who annoy her, because they’re useful to her (not that she doesn’t get attached in time, but that’s not why she tolerates them in the first place).

Catra’s one of the few people in the Horde who has experienced real friendship, as her bond with Adora was much more emotional than practical (even if it was both). And that explains why she eventually lashed out at Scorpia and said they were not friends when clearly they were by the Horde’s definition. Her and Adora really had taken the friends thing to a different level, and she was missing that dearly.

It will be interesting to watch the interactions between the Horde characters when they are thrown back together in new circumstances, out of the Horde’s rigid power structure. Honestly, the redefining of these alliances and friendships is one of the things I am most looking forward to in the final season.

#spop #she-ra #she ra #meta #the horde #catralonnie #scorptra #catradora #horde squad #catra #scorpia #lonnie #kyle #rogelio #adora #bullying #abuse #sociology

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