This Trillium erectum specimen was collected at Kennywood in May 1903. Found in
forest understories in our region, Trillium erectum has several common
names—red trillium (one form has deep maroon flower), wake robin (it is a sign
of spring), and stinking benjamin/wet dog trillium (its flower smells of wet
Botanists at Carnegie Museum of Natural History share pieces of
the herbarium’s historical hidden collection on the dates they were discovered
or collected. Check back for more!
Scott has reassured Lydia that she didn’t have to check on you. Once he saw your house, he kind of wished he had brought someone with him.
Dead birds and rodents surrounded your house, making the whole area stink. Occasionally, in Spring, the birds will ram into houses because of the raging hormones, but never like that.
Ignoring the stench, Scott knocked on the door. “Y/N?” He called, “It’s Scott.” You opened the door almost immediately. The sight of the birds and rodents made you tense up.
“Let’s talk inside,” you suggested. You led him to the living room and sat down. “I have absolutely no idea what’s going on,” you rambled, “I can’t remember anything from last night. Theo told me something, but I have no idea. Scott, what’s going on?”
The way you looked at Scott made him hesitate. You were scared. “Just tell me everything that happened,” he said calmly, “What you can remember to today.” A bit calmer than before, you retold the events since your mother dropped you off. Scott furrowed his eyebrows at the part where Liam ditched you again. “What?” Scott asked, “Liam didn’t tell Theo that he wanted to see you again. He told him to tell you to call him again.”
“Why would Theo lie to me?” You questioned, “Right now, I can’t help but trust Theo over Liam.” Your eyes flitted to the ground. Sadness was evident in them. “Scott, I’m feeling extremely tired. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.”
Scott stood up with you. “Y/N, the last time I left you after you were sad, I didn’t see or hear from you for two days. Then you texted Liam for help, so I really think we should figure this out.”
“We’ll figure this out tomorrow,” you stated, “Talk to Deaton, consult books, do whatever you do to find things out. Just tomorrow. It’s been a hectic weekend.” When Scott heard it like that, it seemed like a great plan. He went home, not questioning where his protectiveness over you went.
As you were getting ready for bed, your phone buzzed. Of course, it was Liam. He texted you, ’Hey.’
Going against your better judgement, you found yourself typing back. ’ Hi.’
Liam almost jumped when his phone went off. He hadn’t expected you texting him back. It was simply an attempt to get you to talk to him, but he didn’t think it’d work.
What should he text back? He wasn’t prepared for the possibility. Quickly calling Mason , he asked, “Hey, what do you say to a girl who’s angry at you after you texted her and she texted you back?”
His best friend could obviously tell that it was about you so he just asked, “What did you say to her?”
“What was her response?”
“Hi,” Liam stated, “I mean, it’s better than ‘hello’. Is she still mad at me?”
“Okay, hang up now and text her that you would like to talk. Don’t push it if she doesn’t want to, but don’t just go into an awkward conversation. Got it?” Liam nodded, even though Mason couldn’t see that, and hung up.
After about two minutes, your phone buzzed again. ’ Can we please talk? In person? ’ You pondered it.
Liam looked desperately at his phone. It had been about a minute since he sent that text. When his phone buzzed, he hurriedly read it. ’ I wouldn’t not let you come in. ’ With that, he quickly made his way over to your house.
The stench made him almost fall over. Looking over the scene, Liam decided to get all the dead critters off of your lawn. Plugging his nose, he began clearing the lawn.
You looked at the time. You don’t know why, but you found yourself agreeing with Liam. If you two talked, you’d get the closure that you wanted. Or did you want it?
Yes, you definitely wanted it. Liam had ditched you so many times. You weren’t just going to forget how much that hurt or how embarrassing it was to be stood up without any excuses or explanations.
Your doorbell broke you out of your train of thought. Trying to casually walk to the door, you opened it to find Liam looking around before realizing that you had finally opened the door. “Y/N,” he said.
“Come on in,” you gestured with your hand. He looked at you sheepishly and awkwardly stepped into your house. He sat on the couch stiffly while you sat on the chair next to the couch.
Silence filled the air between you two and Liam hated it. He wanted to talk to you like everything was normal. “I saw your problem outside,” he said. You nodded. A minute of silence passed, before Liam had enough courage to ask, “Are we ever going to be normal again?”
“Well, you’re a werewolf and Scott thinks I’m a something-”
“No, like us.” Liam’s cheeks redden a bit, while you just looked at the ground.
“Liam, you hurt me,” you admitted, “I tried not to show it, but when you ditched me, it made me feel like I wasn’t enough for you.”
“You’re all I need. I’m sorry I didn’t show it enough,” Liam apologized.
“I’m sorry, too,” you said, “I didn’t exactly tell you. You didn’t know.” You were both silent for a while. Suddenly, Liam wrapped his arms around you. It was comforting so you hugged him back.
Whether it was a ‘goodbye’ hug or a 'welcome back’ hug wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was Liam. Until your phone vibrated. You pulled away, to Liam’s disappointment. Scott had texted you about a pack meeting.
You and Liam went together. There wasn’t any hand holding, but you did talk some more. Scott immediately turned to Stiles who cleared his throat and began to explain, “I think you’re a chimera. Half wolf, half siren. Woman convincing the people around her?”
It felt weird. You were the human. That’s who you were. You were the one who was forced to stay in the car while the others fought. The pack reassured you, yet you only smiled.
On the way home, Liam held your hand comfortingly. The two of you stopped in front of your house. “Listen, I’m going to help you through this,” he promised.
You signed slightly, “I know you are. Thank you.” Liam kissed your cheek gently and left you at your empty house to think. Humanity truly was easy to lose in Beacon Hills.
Is broad city "problematic" or whatever? IK thinking about starting it
Yeah,I’d say it is, but it tries, and they are more aware and willing to learn and change than most showrunners.
Some of what people would call problematic, I consider to be part of the terrible personalities on the show, in the vein of IASIP, but they don’t always make it clear enough that they aren’t to be celebrated for what they are doing IMO, and are still a pretty white show, even though they talk about diversity. They’ve been addressing some of the flaws of the main characters this season, so tbh the jury is still out for me.
I’m just so glad to see a female stoner comedy with a sexually fluid/pan woman on TV, and their lightly-surreal, positive show is just my style. A few quotes that encapsulate why it’s one of my favorite shows:
The pair are anti-heroines in the mould of an Elaine Benes or a
Roseanne Conner, characters who are not beloved for feminine virtues of
‘kindness’ or ‘niceness’, but for living their lives unapologetically.
But at its core, Broad City is still a love story — just one
about two hapless, pot-smoking, sexually experimental, striving,
swearing, struggling, inseparable young gal pals running amok on the
streets of modern-day New York City. The main characters, Abbi Abrams
and Ilana Wexler, are completely, unshakably obsessed with one another.
They are intoxicated by (and often in) each other’s presence, full
partners in crime and life. Their New York is the New York that can be
experienced only as a duo: a kaleidoscopic playground made for two, the
kind of cinematic, heightened fun-house version of the city that
accompanies the most epic, swooning romances. Abbi and Ilana live
separately but share nearly everything: drugs, stomach issues, sexual
fantasies, shattering ego blows, visions of grandiosity, and high-stakes
capers to solve low-stakes problems. They staunchly refuse to judge one
another’s outsize behavior; instead, they practice radical mutual
acceptance. Between them there are no boundaries, no topic too taboo.
If Louie’s New York is an autumnal, absurdist city out of
Pinter or Arthur Miller, Jacobson and Glazer see the city in full
spring—stinking of garbage here, scented with roses there; silly,
broken, beautiful, and sometimes vividly surreal.