#this is my only life support and source of joy yay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nicknellie · 4 years ago

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@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

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the-chick-of-the-air · 4 years ago

Text

Hello my lovelies!

Wow ok I’m sorry I know it’s been a while- I kinda got into a writing slump that wouldn’t let me out, however I’m feeling like I’m getting back into things! Yay!

I want to thank all of you for your continued support in my writing adventures, I seriously can’t describe how much it means to me when I get feedback and love on my work, one of my favorite things to do is make people happy- or really just feel anything- with my writing and I love hearing about it so thank you thank you THANK YOU!!! 🥰❤️

So, now I’m back with a gift! A very long fic that took me way to long to get around to finishing but I wanna share! So here, have this!!

Sorry if the length is too, well, lengthy 😅 I do so hope you enjoy it!

Edit: have added a cut due to length, read below!🥰❤️

Some Wicked Type of Love

Cardan stared down at the vial he held carefully, the greenish liquid sparkled as it sloshed around with the subtle shakes he gave it. This. This would fix everything.

“So, he just has to drink that? Nothing else?” Rhyia asked, unnerved. That unnerved Cardan, his elder sister was hardly ever shaken, so seeing her nervous about something didn’t sit well.

The imp with golden skin smiled thinly. Despite her obvious skepticism, he was the one Rhyia had told Cardan about, the one that could fix his problem, rid him of his ailment.

“That is all.”

Rhyia’s eyes narrowed into slits, “And it won’t hurt him?” Despite how she, along with the rest of his siblings, chose to brush him off more often than not, she did care for him on a certain level. It was why Cardan had approached her in the first place. He trusted her alone to follow through with this task.

“The young Prince shall remain whole and hale. It is to my understanding that he is now indebted to me?”

Cardan was about to protest when Rhyia spoke first, “I will take on his debt to you. When you need a favor, come to me.”

The imp’s smile widened, “Oh it is not a favor I seek in return. Simply bring him back to me once the… effects of the cure have taken hold.”

Cardan didn’t like how ominous that sounded. Nonetheless he nodded to his sister and they moved to leave.

Once they had turned away, they missed how the Imp’s smile grew impossibly wider and a silent laugh fell from his lips.

~.~

“Are you sure about this?”

Her constant questioning was beginning to grate on Cardan’s nerves as they trekked back to Hallow Hall. “For the last time, yes. I am profoundly certain in my decision. Will you let it alone now?”

Rhyia hummed and stopped walking. When Cardan realized she was no longer beside him, he stopped as well and turned to face her. She was staring at him with an expression he couldn’t puzzle out.

“Having the love of a mortal is-”

Cardan turned away sharply and began walking again, “I do not have the love of a mortal! One simply plagues my thoughts, and this is the only way to cure it.”

Rhyia jogged to catch up with him. She linked her arm through his, “All I was going to say was that…being in love with, or having the love of a mortal, is no reason to feel shame. Many of us have loved them, dearly so. The General, our father. Even I have known the affections of one.”

Cardan stopped short. That couldn’t be right. Yes, there were some Folk who took mortals as consorts and lovers- they were good for cultivating many children. The General’s love, he knew, had ended in tragedy. One that produced the very person he so sorely wished to be rid of. His father had an affinity for many a thing unusual, and having Val Moren at his side was just that. Cardan had just always assumed it was out of need for a seneschal who had an undying loyalty to him. But Rhyia?

He glanced at her sideways and she held her chin up higher, “As I said. I am not ashamed of who I have come to adore. Many think them beneath us, I find that to be wholly untrue. They are born, they live vibrant, beautiful lives, and they die, just as we do.”

Cardan shook his head, “They are dirt. A fleeting thing made of dust and water, gone before they can live fully if they do not stay here. They are beneath us.” A practiced excuse, and his sister knew it.

“You feel the need to run from what you do not understand. Do not want to feel. The choice is yours but know this: You are a prince. You may love whoever you see fit to love. Mortals may be weaker than we are, but their ability to love is stronger even than our own. When they find someone fit to adore, they put their entire existence into loving them. They feel it deeply and should you find yourself the object of their affection, there will be nothing they will not do for you,” She looked at him pointedly, “It is an honor to be loved by a mortal.”

Cardan was silent for a moment as her words sank in. The vial in his pocket felt heavier, somehow.

An honor. Cardan had never been granted anything akin to honor before. And as thoughts of auburn hair and rounded ears flashed through his mind, he realized he never would be granted such a thing. He shook his head,

“Even if that were true, my issue does not stem from running from the affections of a mortal.”

Rhyia smiled carefully at her brother, “Of course not. Simply from the possibility that she will not love you as you love her.”

He balked and tugged his arm from her hold, stalking the rest of the way home on his own. He did not love a mortal. He just couldn’t get thoughts of her out of his mind. Her name played on an indestructible loop in his brain, carefully preserved memories of her every sneer and glare followed him into his dreams and emerged with him in his waking hours. She wouldn’t leave him alone.

The liquid in that vial would fix it. It would erase her very essence from each corner of his brain, every fold she inhabited, like a sprite infestation of the mind. He would be rid of every thought, every memory, every feeling he had ever had for her.

Without any further pondering, he lifted the vial from his pocket and uncorked it.

Before he even got inside Hallow Hall, he brought it to his lips.

He threw back the potion and blessedly forgot Jude Duarte.

~.~

Lessons had never been a source of joy for Cardan. In fact, he would go as far to say they were a bane of his existence. Knowledge and learning, taking precious time to become scholarly when he could have been lounging about instead.

An odd absence in his chest pulled at him. He felt as if there was something about lessons that should have- usually would have- brought him some level of entertainment, of satisfaction. Looking around, his comrades by his side as they set up their blankets and baskets on the great lawn for the day, there was nothing amiss.

And yet there was something…

“Here they come.” Locke muttered conspiratorially, looking at someone approaching over Cardan’s shoulder. Valerian leered and Nicasia glanced in that direction before scoffing and looking elsewhere.

Had they all met someone at a revel recently? Someone worthy of their torment? Surely, they would have told him had that been the case.

Either way, he wanted to be included, so he turned as well.

When he caught sight of her, he lost his right to breathe.

There were two mortal girls, they were linked at the arm and looked exactly alike. Twins, highly uncommon amongst the Folk, though it happened often enough for the term to be familiar.

Despite there being two of them, his eyes immediately caught on the one to the right.

She was gorgeous.

Her auburn hair was twisted into a knot at the top of her head, a golden net holding it in place along with a few decorative pins. She was wearing a simple tunic with a crest across her chest that he instantly recognized. The family crest of General Madoc. He had mortal charges?

She clutched her basket in one hand and clutched her sister’s arm even closer. She was whispering something to the other girl and when she glanced up, she locked gazes with him.

It felt as if time had frozen.

She stared at him for a moment, brown eyes boring into his. It was the most beautiful color he had ever had the privilege of seeing. What a shame she shared a face with the girl next to her, her beauty was so striking that it deserved to be all her own. Even so, she was- as far as he was concerned- far more breathtaking than her twin.

She was alarmingly attractive. Distressingly beautiful. The product of tortuous, glorifying nightmares. He needed to know her, needed to speak to her. What did her voice sound like? Was she bold or soft spoken? How long had she been in Elfahme and why had he never encountered her before?

This ethereal creature… he could feel his heart beating so quickly it was growing painful, he had to force himself to take a breath least he pass out from lack of oxygen.

“Who is that?” He knew his voice was little more than a strained whisper as he continued to stare at her.

As soon as his mouth moved, it seemed to shatter some hold that had settled over her. Her eyes narrowed and she gave him a glare so delightfully heated that he could feel it burning his very blood. She was a fiery one.

Her lips pulled into a sneer and he immediately wanted to know what she would taste like. Some strange, horrid concoction of bitter and sweet, no doubt. He had to know.

He could see Nicasia looking at him strangely from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze from the mortal as she moved to an empty area on the grass with her twin in tow. He watched as they spread out their blankets and settled down.

“The Duarte twins? Madoc’s filthy mortal brats? Cardan, are you feeling well?” She asked, rare concern lacing her voice.

He would wager he’d never felt better in his life. He felt something in his chest- the previously empty and wounded area- light up as though something finally came to life in him, as though he were finally whole.

“What’s her name, the one on the right?” He ignored the strange looks his friends gave him, never looking away from the Duarte twin that had enraptured his attention, though she kept throwing disgusted sneers his way every time she looked up to find him still staring.

“Jude?” Locke inquired, glancing gleefully between the twins and the prince.

Something in his mind snapped into place, and he finally understood what had been missing, Jude.

Her name looped around his thoughts, over and over.

Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude…

He needed her. He felt it, he…

Cardan Greenbriar was in love.

~.~

Waiting for lessons to end was nearly unbearable, the only consolation Cardan got was from staring at the object of his affections throughout the day.

Each time she caught him staring, she would glare and turn away sharply, as though his gaze had branded her. Each time it sent a thrill through him, something he had never felt before, even with previous lovers. Even with Nicasia, who was sitting right next to him through the whole day.

It was perhaps hasty on his part, this whole bodied acceptance of his feelings, but Cardan was never one to curb his indulgences. After all, when the Folk fell in love, it was often that it happened deeply and all at once. This was nothing out of the ordinary, and the prince looked forward to trying to shower this lovely fiend in affections as soon as he could speak with her.

As soon as they were released for the day, he issued Locke to distract her twin, having seen how they stole glances at one another during their lessons. The fox like faerie was all too happy to oblige and Cardan found himself trailing his new love off the palace grounds and into the forest, glad she hadn’t bothered to wait for her twin.

It took about two minutes for her to stop, once they were out of sight of the palace behind them. She turned and her gaze locked onto him.

He continued forward until he was a mere foot away from her. He said nothing and simply stood there, watching, waiting for her to speak first.

“What do you want?” Oh, how delightfully sharp her voice was! Even drenched in irritation, it was soothing as a balm to his aching head after listening to Nicasia’s grating prattle all day. She looked momentarily surprised at herself, as though she were normally much milder. Though she quickly shook it off and continued to glare at him.

He decided to forego beating around the bush, she seemed like the type of person who enjoyed being direct, getting straight to the point. That spot in his chest she now occupied throbbed a bit, “You’ve captured my attention. You’re quite alluring, Jude. That is your name, correct?”

A completely logical question, but she looked at him as though he had two heads. Actually no- there was at least one two headed faerie out there- she looked at him as though he had just asked her to shoot him through with an arrow, like he was an idiot in need of mental help.

“Is this some kind of trick?” Her voice was dripping disgust and her hand twitched as though she wanted to reach for something but thought better of it at the last moment. Her eyes narrowed further and he found himself wishing she would look at him normally so he could see her eyes fully. They must be exquisite this close up.

He shook his head, shifting towards her, she took a step back, “No trick. I know I’m being forward, but I find you most enchanting, perhaps we can walk together?” he smirked at her. He knew how to be charming, had won a few hearts that way. However, she sneered at him as though she were completely immune to it- even better!

“’Perhaps we’… What are you doing, Cardan?” she nearly growled his name and he found he quite liked the way it sounded coming out of her mouth.

“Expressing my interest in you,” he stepped closer and grabbed one of her hands gently, tried not to laugh when she casually pulled it away and unsheathed a small dagger at her hip, “As I said, you have my attention.”

She looked confused a moment, even slightly concerned. It vanished quickly and she held the dagger a little higher. Outright threatening him. Yes, he was definitely in love!

“What has gotten into you? Some sort of sickness the Folk get? Have you been drinking already?”

Already. For some reason that stuck in his head. ‘Have you been..’ it sounded as though she knew of his habits. Granted it was no secret that he preferred various wines over most other beverages any day, but only those who paid attention to him knew that. He was under the distinct impression they had never met before.

That spot in his heart throbbed again, painfully.

“You…” He took a step towards her and she backed up several paces, her blade gleaming between them.

“If this is some new way of trying to get me to back down, you can drop it. It’s not going to work. You’ve managed to pit Taryn against me already, and as long as you leave her alone, we have an understanding but that’s it. I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you touch either one of us. Now leave me alone.”

Cardan didn’t understand half of what she was talking about. Who was Taryn? Her twin perhaps? He hadn’t bothered with her name. How did Jude figure he had pit them against one another? And how had he and Jude come to an agreement of sorts if he had never met her before?

As she backed away, dagger still held offensively as though she expected him to lunge for her, he realized he was going to need answers to his growing list of questions before he tried to pursue her further.

He held up his hands in what he hoped was a placating gesture, watching as she continued to move away before she was far enough to turn and hastily make her way from him. He gazed after her a moment, wishing that had gone differently, then turned and started to trek his way home, suddenly in a somber mood.

~.~

Jude huffed out a breath of frustration as she re-sheathed her dagger, trying to figure out what on earth had just passed between her and Cardan.

You have my attention. That was normally a bad thing, but the way he had been gazing at her…she could feel her blood heating and it wasn’t all due to hate.

So wrapped up in trying to figure out what had just happened with Cardan, Jude didn’t realize someone else was following her until it was too late.

She jumped an embarrassingly high distance into the air when Princess Rhyia appeared beside her.

“Oh! Uh, your highness.” Jude muttered, dropping into a low curtsy.

She tried to keep her wits about her when the princess gripped her arm and looped her own through it. She smiled warmly at Jude, something she found slightly disconcerting, and said, “Walk with me.”

Her tone was gentle, but Jude understood a command when she heard one, and Rhyia was all but physically dragging her by the arm, so she really had little choice in the matter.

“Tell me, young Jude. What do you think of my brother?”

Jude didn’t bother asking for clarification. If Rhyia had followed her all this way, it was likely she had just seen whatever it was that had transpired between Cardan and herself. She was about to blurt out “I hate him, as he does me” when she stopped herself. It probably wasn’t wise to badmouth him to his sibling. Not to mention it felt…odd, to say that all of a sudden.

The princess caught her hesitation and squeezed her arm gently, “Please, speak freely.”

Well then, “Um…we don’t…we don’t see eye to eye.” A huge understatement, though Rhyia simply nodded, keeping quiet as she waited for Jude to go on. “I take it you know why he was acting so strangely back there?”

For a startling moment, the princess looked upset. She schooled her features quickly, though. “Usually, I would feel it is not my place to meddle. But Cardan… it is no excuse, I know, but… he doesn’t always understand his own feelings.”

Jude bit the inside of her own cheek. She had quite a bit to say when it came to Cardan and feelings. She kept quiet as his sister went on.

“I shouldn’t be the one to reveal all the details, but I can tell you that he feels very strongly for you. So strongly in fact, that he went to extremes to stop feeling for you. It would appear his plan backfired.”

Strong feelings? Backfired? What? “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Cardan approached me yesterday, asking if I knew of a way to rid him of feelings he couldn’t stand to feel. I took him to an imp I know of, who gave him a potion, a…cure, he called it. It would erase the thing that ails one from their memory.”

Jude was putting the pieces together now. For an inexplicable reason, something tugged at her chest, dark and ugly. “He…wanted to forget me?” She asked carefully.

Rhyia smiled, obviously happy Jude was understanding, “You were haunting him. He couldn’t cease thinking of you and it was driving him quite mad. So, he sought a solution.”

“A solution?” Jude scoffed, the hurt in her chest growing, “So rather than…than talk to me, he decided to erase me from his memory?!” She couldn’t fathom why this truth hurt, why she even cared-

“Well, he tried. I’ve been watching him today. It seems that, if anything, his feelings for you are much clearer now.” She nodded to herself, as if this was a completely logical situation.

Jude felt like she couldn’t breathe. Cardan, he felt something for her? Something other than hate?

She thought back to a piece of paper, her name dashed out over and over and over, like he was trying to immortalize her, pen her down on paper so she should never be forgotten.

Suddenly, she was recounting every interaction they had ever had, every weighted look and spiteful word. Each trick and torment and barb thrown at one another. The way they relentlessly targeted one another, trading blows in every form one could think of. She recalled the way Taryn begged her to let it go, to quit this twisted game but she couldn’t. She would not forfeit. She didn’t want to stop.

And he was just as guilty. Each time they went toe to toe, he wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t leave her alone, almost as if he needed this game they played just as much as she did, just to feel... and each time, there was an air of something heavier behind it all, something unspoken and deadly and mutual.

Something like obsession. A twisted kind of heart-breaking. A tragic back and forth dance. Evil, heated, something intense, some…

Some wicked type of love.

She didn’t realize she had stopped moving until Rhyia pulled her arm from Jude’s. They were nearing Madoc’s estate, but Jude found she didn’t want to go home just yet.

“He…We, uh…” Great, at a loss for words in front of royalty. But Rhyia just smiled wider.

“I heard there is a way to bring back memory stolen by a potion, a kiss of true love or something of that nature. But you didn’t hear it from me.” The princess leaned in and placed a sisterly kiss on Jude’s cheek before she winked and walked away.

Jude stood there, stupidly staring at nothing just off the edge of Madoc’s estate for far longer than she would have liked to admit.

She… she loved him? She wanted to be wrong, but it felt like she had just discovered the answer to everything she never realized she was questioning. Her chest ached, she had to get to him. What had Rhyia said? ‘kiss of true love’? Like from a story book? Ridiculous. And exactly the kind of thing that would happen to her.

Jude squared her shoulders, resigning herself to her decision.

Without giving herself a chance to reconsider, she turned on her heel and started to backtrack to Hallow Hall.

~.~

Cardan was only slightly surprised when Jude traipsed through his open balcony doors an hour later. He wasn’t sure what she had against using the front door like a normal person but epic declarations of love were often much more, well, epic when preceded by dramatic entrances.

He liked her flair.

“Somehow I knew you would show up.” He was genuinely glad to see her, though if she was here to tell him off again, he wasn’t sure how he would manage. He would find a way, though, for her.

“Shame on me for being predictable.” She muttered, moving further into the room. She regarded him coolly, “You really don’t remember me?”

Cardan held up a finger and moved to his desk. He picked up an empty vial that was sitting atop. He held it out to her.

“I assumed I was at a revel last night and that was why I couldn’t recall anything, however today’s events are making that hard to believe.”

Jude took the vial from him, careful not to touch him as she did so. She examined the glass, rolled it over in her hands a few times. She glanced back up at him and he was happy to find her eyes open wide. He was right, a gorgeous color.

“I assume you don’t know what this is.” She shook the vial.

He shook his head, “I figure it’s the cause of my lapse in memory. Now I wonder what was in it and why I needed it,” He looked her over carefully, head to toe and back up again, “And why it seems tied to you.”

She pocketed the vial, though he wasn’t sure why she would want it, “Have you spoken with Rhyia today?”

Rhyia? “What does my sister have to do with this?”

“She accompanied me home, don’t give me that look- she snuck up on me. She told me that yesterday you asked for her assistance in acquiring something. A cure, of sorts.”

Cardan ignored the jealousy he felt against his sister-how unfair that she got to walk Jude home- and mused over Jude’s words. A cure… “I don’t recall being ill before last night.” He crossed his arms, watching her. Even the way she just stood there was astounding. He could look at her forever and it still wouldn’t be long enough to give her the attention she deserved.

“Well, you weren’t sick, exactly. You…wanted someone erased from your memory.” Her voice went quiet. Odd, from what he knew of her thus far, that seemed extremely out of character for her.

“That would explain the memory loss.” Horrible attempt at a quip, though her mouth quirked up at the corner, he got her to smile! Despite her obvious upset, his chest warmed. He wanted to see her grinning, to hear her laugh. Perhaps he would, one day.

“Yeah, well, it definitely did its job.”

It hit him, then. He had wanted to forget someone, his comrades had displayed obvious distaste for the Duarte twins even though Cardan could not recall ever meeting them. Rhyia had gone to Jude after their…talk in the woods, and Cardan hardly believed it had been Jude’s twin he had wanted to forget.

“You.” He said quietly, watching her shift her weight from one foot to the other, “I wanted to forget you?” He hardly thought it possible, she was a delight! He had never known what the missing piece of his entire existence had been until he laid eyes on her for the first time- ok, not first time, rather the first time he remembers. All the same, looking upon her beautiful countenance now, he could quite confidently declare his past self absolutely mad for attempting to purge her from his thoughts.

Jude shrugged and stepped closer, “I guess I was haunting you. And you don’t like knowing there is something out there that you can’t have.”

His heart plummeted. He wished it to soar at the obvious fact that she seemed to know him so well, however her words crushed the fragile hope that had been budding within him since he left her alone in the woods, “And I can’t? Have you?”

Her gaze was intense and piercing when it landed on his own. Again, he marveled at the color. The rich hues of brown one found upon the forest floor, the cracked deck of a mighty ship, all the copper and wood and soil of the earth blending together to solidify themselves in the alluring shade of her eyes. He couldn’t breathe.

She forewent answering his question, “Your sister told me there is a way to restore your memory, if you would have it.”

“Yes.” He found himself breathing, already enticed at the prospect of remembering this wicked girl before him. Obviously, his past self had been an idiot for trying to forget her. He cleared his throat, “What is it?”

She took another step, then another, stopping only when they were so close he had to tilt his head down to meet her eyes.

“I’m not sure it will work, but I know you’ll find it entertaining.”

Gently, he reached up to wrap a lock of her hair around his finger. She didn’t seem to mind as he asked again, “Is there a chance? That I could have you?” He’d never had anything solely his, never won affections simply because someone had cared for him. He knew if she could be that for him, he’d want for nothing more in his life ever again.

Slowly, she lifted a hand to his cheek. He found himself leaning into it readily as she pulled his face closer to hers.

She seemed to hesitate, considering something before she answered, “So long as I could have you.”

He would have answered, ‘Anything, you can have anything you want’ had she not closed the distance and pressed her lips to his.

~.~

The memories came rushing back all at once and they nearly knocked his breath out of his chest. But he only gave his history with his gorgeous villain a passing thought as more pressing matters settled themselves in the forefront of his mind.

Namely, the fact that Jude was kissing him. Jude. As everything he knew about her, about them fell into place he had to wonder if he was dreaming. But no. He’d imagined this very moment before and… It had all his hopes, his expectations paling in comparison to the actual sensation. She was warm and her mouth was soft even as she roughly slanted it against his own. Even when showing affection, she felt the need to be in control and he lent it to her willingly.

In the back of his mind, he recalled having always assumed that their first kiss would be intoxicating and drenched in delirium- why else would either of them fall into the other without a fight, if not for the moment being brought about by emotions stronger than they could contend with? And while it definitely lived up to that expectation, he had also always assumed it would be over rather quickly. That she would pull away abruptly, muttering about mistakes and small, ironic acts of vengeance.

That is where the likeness between imagination and reality broke away.

In reality, as soon as her mouth met his and she gave him a moment to feel the onslaught of memories, she stepped closer, forcing him to bend slightly to accommodate their height difference. The hand that had been resting on his face slid up, over the pointed tip of his ear and into his hair while her other arm fastened tightly around his shoulders, pulling him flush against her.

He fumbled for a moment- which was really something wasn’t it? Wasn’t he the more experienced of the two? How thoroughly she had undone him already!

Once his bearings were back intact, he slipped his arms around her waist, molding himself to her. He marveled at how seamlessly they seemed to fit together. A lock and- wait, no. No Locke. Two pieces of the same puzzle finally snapping into place.

His mind gave over to a blank sort of haze, melting along to the backdrop of her name looping around his thoughts, Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude and for a bare moment he understood again why he had forced her out of his mind, for she was the only thing in the universe that had the power to drive him into pure madness.

He would happily crash into insanity now, with her wrapped around him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip demandingly. He obliged to her wishes, would cater to her every twisted whim if she would have it. One of his hands snaked into her hair as he deepened their kiss, he felt her fingers dig into his back harshly in response. He felt that should he die now, he would leave this existence fulfilled and whole.

Once the need for oxygen became unrelenting, he pressed his mouth firmly against hers, once more, and pulled away.

Again, his imaginings of this moment ended here or before, with her pulling away, that beautiful scowl etched across her perfect face, muttering foul and soul wrenching words like mistake and useless.

And again, reality outshone even the darkest parts of his mind. As soon as he pulled back, she stayed near a moment, waiting to see if he would come back. When he didn’t, she sighed through her nose, the sound almost content and she peered up at him.

His eyes locked on hers as she let her hands explore the breadth of his shoulders, the column of his neck which she glanced at briefly before her gaze snapped back to his own, full of something like longing.

When he didn’t move, said nothing, she tilted her head to the side as she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. “Well?” was all she said.

It took him a moment to register what her meaning was. She wanted to know if he remembered her, their history. He blinked, “I…remember.” He stated cautiously. He couldn’t lie of course, but he almost wanted to. So terrified was he of what that knowledge would mean for them, for what had just transpired between them. His imaginings never prepared him for this.

Or for what she did next.

A smirk, more of a small smile, really, bloomed across her features. That in itself was jarring but since this was Jude and ambition was what drove her out of bed in the morning, of course she took it further than simply jarring. She leaned in again, placing a kiss to his cheek, along his jaw, his nose even, before she finally claimed his lips again. It was past shocking. Had he known memory loss would lead to this he would have sought out his sister for help much sooner.

Though really, why was she even doing this? Just yesterday she had been scowling at him every time they glanced at each other, just an hour ago she had been threating his life, warning him to back off. What had changed?

This, while thrilling, wasn’t ideal. Insecurity was not something Cardan was overly familiar with these days, not when it came to her. This information is what had him puling away gently, looking at her in earnest.

“Why the sudden interest?” He debated throwing a quip or scathing remark of some sort her way, a sudden and desperate need to get back to their malicious bantering washing over him, though he shoved the thought away. He was genuinely curious as to what changed her mind.

She shook her head as she finally left his embrace, “I had just been thinking and realized that somewhere along the way, strong feelings of hate had shifted into strong feelings of…something else.”

She looked put out at the thought that she had developed any sort of emotion for him other than contempt, but he had to agree with her sentiment. He bristled to think that that potion hadn’t done its job right, but it had done something. Before, he had been content to half-lie to himself, to convince himself so profoundly that he was not enchanted, mind and body and soul by this girl before him.

What was it Rhyia had said? It is an honor to be loved by a mortal.

Cardan felt that maybe there was honor in loving one, too.

He bit the inside of his cheek before asking, “And you meant what you said, before?”

So long as I could have you.

“Yes.” She sounded so sure. He liked to believe she wasn’t lying. She rubbed at the missing tip of her finger as she watched him, “So, where does that leave us?”

Bring him back to me when the effects of the… cure have taken hold. He’d gotten more than he had bargained for. He held out his hand to Jude.

She reached for it instantly and he tried not to let it show how deeply that affected him, his head already wanting to go fuzzy with nothing but the thought of her.

“I owe a visit to a certain imp.”

Fin

And that is that! Please let me know your thoughts! And I am so excited to be sharing again and looking forward to what I plan to write in the future☺️ (jeez it is so long I’m so sorry for everyone who has to scroll all this way😬😅)

Here is my tag list, as always please let me know if you would like to be added, I’m always excited when people ask me tag them and it is my greatest pleasure to oblige!❤️ (also- over 500 followers now? What!? You guys are amazing and I honestly don’t think I would have come this far without you guys! Sending all my love!🥰)

@maleckanejnessianjurdansolangelo @woodsbeyond1 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @thewickedkings @aneurwin @snusbandxknifewife @jurdanhell @andromeddea @dressedindustandshadows @thesirenwashere @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @unidentifiedblackthorn @iminsanenotobsessed @df3ndyr @brittneyal @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @fuzzypineapples @nahthanks @charrise @thefolkofthefic @theviolettulip @embersfromink @kittkatandbooboo

#cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jurdan #the cruel prince #tcp #fic #long fic #a test in which I see how many times I can write Jude’s name without going insane myself

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noxstellacaelum · 6 years ago

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Female Protagonists Deserve Their Stories

Believe me, I get it. I am not the target audience for shows like Shadowhunters, Veronica Mars, or GoT. I am far, far removed from ship wars, cons, and the overall social media craziness that seems to animate fandom culture for shows like these. These shows -- particularly Shadowunters -- are really just guilty pleasures for me. With bonus points b/c they are sci fi/supernatural/fantasy/action & adventure genre pieces with strong female protagonists. That’s all. Just a genre that I love. Nothing life-changing.

So why, months later, am I still so pissed off about GoT S8, Shadowhunters 3B and the &*%& Shadowhunters finale, and basically all of Veronica Mars S4? Especially when the writers/ show runners behind these projects -- and huge chunks of the fandom -- really, really don’t give a shit about what someone in my demographic thinks.

Fundamentally, I am pissed off because each of these shows destroyed the narrative arcs of their female characters. And, because the showrunners -- a bunch of middle-aged dudes -- should have known better.

This post focuses on Shadowhunters. And I am writing it just for me. I appreciate and understand that others may disagree.

Ok, let’s just acknowledge the demographically engineered pulpy charms of Shadowhunters (TV) up front. The cast were (and still are, obviously) uniformly gorgeous; the casting was racially diverse (YAY!!!); each season features lots of angst-y love triangles, break-ups and make-ups (Oh, the drama :-)); and, the show deliberately centered LGBTQIA relationships, especially Malec (again, YAY!!!)

So, what’s my problem, when there is so much to like about the show’s stated desire to be inclusive and diverse? Especially when I believe that representation matters, particularly in genre projects like Shadowhunters, which historically have tended to lack diversity with respect to race and sexual/gender identity.

My problem is that somewhere along the line, the Shadowhunters showrunners decided that to tell the story they wanted to tell, they had to eviscerate the narrative arcs of Clary, and by extension, Jace.

To understand why the decision to sideline Clary (and Jace) is so frustrating, it helps to know a bit about the TV show’s source material. (Spoilers follow) SHTV is based on The Mortal Instruments, a six-book series written by Cassie Clare. Clary is the protagonist of TMI: Clare has described TMI as a “girl power” story, and she has made it clear that in TMI, she wanted to tell a story where a girl saves the world. She’s even clapped back at those who would question whether Clary is worthy of heroine status. Last year, in the Thule section of Queen of Air and Darkness, Clare showed us an AU where Clary doesn’t save the world (and is instead killed by Lilith, the mother of demons). It’s a hellscape: Clary’s evil brother Jonathan controls everyone and everything; angelic power no longer works; and anyone who tries to resist Jonathan is hunted, killed, “endarked” (turned into a soulless, murderous soldier), or otherwise enspelled. All of our other heroes are dead or enthralled. Realizing that he was turning into a demon, Magnus begged Alec to kill him (which Alec does, before committing suicide). And Clary’s love Jace? Devastated by Clary’s death, and enspelled by Jonathan, Jace becomes twisted and evil.

In addition to the Thule AU, Clare has written more generally about right of female creators to own their own work (on a Tumblr blog post). And, she has used other series in the shadowhunter world to center other characters and relationships (e.g., the Malec series currently underway); to interrogate gender roles (e.g., the Julian and Emma pairing in TDA); and to explore relationships and identities other than the Clary/Jace pairing (e.g. the polyamorous Christina/Mark/Kieran relationship in TDA). Why does all of this matter for SHTV? Well, Clare wrote TMI, and she made Clary the protagonist. So the fact that Clary is the protagonist of TMI was not some ancillary or inconvenient matter for SHTV. It was and is at the center of the books upon which SHTV is based, and as to which the show has IP rights.

[NB: This is not to suggest that Clare prefers Clary and Jace to other characters or other ships, or that other characters aren’t also heroic or ship-worthy -- they are, they are just not the protagonists of TMI. And, SHTV is still based on TMI.]

[NB2: And, I absolutely don’t mean to suggest that the show had to be a transcription of the books, or that only Clary and Jace should have gotten screen time. I am affirmatively HAPPY that the show gave rich story lines to other characters -- especially Simon, Magnus and Alec.]

With that background in mind, why do I think that Season 3B and the finale destroyed the Clary and Jace characters? Well -- and I know this sounds snarky -- let’s look at the parade of plotholes, the random redistribution of plot points, Clary’s loss of agency, the and general sidelining of the Clary and Jace characters and their heroism. (Again, spoilers to follow). I leave the memory wipe to last here, because I still can’t believe that anyone thought destroying three seasons of character development was a good idea.

1. Evil Clary story line: In the books, Jace is twinned with Jonathan. This makes narrative sense: Jace and Jonathan are “brothers” of a sort, having both been raised by Valentine, and Jace’s vulnerability to Jonathan (and Lilith) is rooted in childhood trauma of abuse and neglect that Jace endured at the hands of Valentine.

In the show, however, Clary is twinned with Jonathan. From the start, Clary’s ability to resist the rune is tied to her proximity to Jace. In fact, as 3B progresses, Clary becomes increasingly unhinged and violent any time she is physically separated from Jace. Eventually, when she is blasted behind a wall while on mission (and thus physically separated from Jace), she succumbs entirely. All of a sudden we have dark Clary, taking a walk on the wild side with the murderous brother who kidnapped her and nearly killed Jace just a few short weeks ago in show time. Dark Clary joining forces to burn down the world that she loved, and that she repeatedly saved. Really??? And then, when Jace and the others finally manage to free her from twinning rune, we see Clary saying that she WANTED to help Jonathan with his murderous rampage. And, we hear Jace saying that the call of blood was too hard for Clary to resist. Again, really??? The girl who killed her father, called upon an angel to bring her boyfriend back to life, survived the death of her mother, and who was nearly killed by her possessed boyfriend is somehow unable to resist the call of her Morgenstern blood? What about Clary’s agency? Her strength? Her love for Jace and her chosen family? Her identity as a shadowhunter? Enthralled book Jace at least still loves Clary, and has a scene where he temporarily breaks free of the twinning rune, and makes it clear to Jonathan that he hates him, and that he is being controlled. But Clary says she wanted to help her brother, and that it’s her fault for being unable to resist her “blood.” While team evil might have been fun -- and probably was a blast for the actors to play -- it didn’t make narrative sense to me. Not the biggest sin, and to each his own. But not for me.

2. Heavenly fire storyline: In the book, Jace is filled w/ heavenly fire. Clary eventually figures out how to get the heavenly fire from Jace into her weapon (heosphoros), which she uses to kill Jonathan. In the show, Izzy gets the entire heavenly fire storyline. Again, why??? For one thing, the scene in which Clary and Izzy fight (and Izzy ends up with the heavenly fire after being struck by shrapnel) -- while cool -- made no sense to me. Book Izzy is a formidable warrior. Show Izzy is disarmed by Clary (who has been training to be a shadowhunter for, like, 5 minutes at the time of their battle). Also, why does Izzy get the heavenly fire from a few bits of shrapnel, but Clary is totally fine after being STABBED by the sword? More generally, other than giving Izzy more to do, what was the thinking behind taking away this story arc from Clary and Jace? And, for making Jace basically a potted plant in 3B? (In contrast to book Jace — who was key to the good guys’ victory— show Jace is made to basically stand there: Show Alec, Izzy, Magnus, and Simon get literally every single heroic plot point in the finale — remember that we’re Lightwoods moment, sans Jace (the adoptive brother)?? — while Jace is relegated to crying or supporting Clary.)

3. The Jace character: While this post is principally about Clary, I can’t help but note that the show did everything possible to isolate Jace and make him incompetent and unlikable.

- Book Jace comes across as arrogant and as a wise ass, but Clary and Alec see the arrogance for what it is -- a coping mechanism/ PTSD following a childhood full of trauma at the hands of Valentine. Through his relationship with Clary, Jace learns that he is worthy of being loved, and that he can love without destroying. And, Jace’s parabatai bond is a source of strength and joy for both Alec and Jace. Show Jace gets none of this. 3B kept Clary and Jace apart from each other much of the time (what w/ Evil Clary preferring to help her murderous brother burn down the world). 3B also effectively eliminated the parabatai bond: Alec is entirely focused on his relationship with Magnus, and he is impatient with a clearly suicidal Jace. You can count on one hand the number of minutes that Alec and Jace are on screen together in 3B.

- Book Jace becomes (with Clary) head of the NY institute, having rejected and fought against bigoted members of the cohort. I appreciate that this likely could not be shown b/c the show does not have the rights to TDA, but this does not explain why the show made Jace so incompetent as head of the NY institute. Show Jace gets the job only because of nepotism (Herondale blood). Show Jace is on board with the downworlder registry. Show Jace is so incompetent that he abdicates in favor of Alec after about a day. None of this made any sense.

- Book Jace is all-in w/ Clary from the beginning. He has one encounter w. Aline, but that’s presented as being as much about Aline’s confirmation of her sexual identity as it is about Jace in turmoil. (I know some people object to CC’s writing of Aline, but again, it’s her story.) But even if the showrunners felt that the Jace/Aline hook-up was “problematic” -- and I get that some fans feel that way -- why did the show choose to do some weird male version of slut-shaming of Jace? There is the Jace encounter with Maia. (To be clear, this was shitty to the Maia character, too. She hooks up with a drunk rebounding Jace, whom she had just tried to kill. behind a bar.) And, the comments about Jace, Kaelie and book club. Everyone keeps talking on the show about how Jace sleeps around, and they judge him for it, when, in reality, Jace is pretty darn faithful to his relationship with Clary from the moment they meet. Simon, Clary, Alec, Magnus, and Izzy all have more sexual encounters (and in the case of Simon and Izzy, more partners) vs. show Jace. And no one calls Simon or Clary slutty. No one decides that Alec is unworthy b/c he lies to Magnus. And no one decides Magnus is unworthy or slutty or not devoted to Alec because he’s had many sexual partners in the past.

- As noted elsewhere, the show isolated and shamed a clearly depressed and suicidal Jace in 3B. He’s shown devastated and alone in 3B when he thinks Clary is dead in the “Lost Without You” montage: Alec (his parabatai) and Magnus are busy comforting each other; Maia is comforting Simon; Mayrse is nowhere to be found. Same thing after Jace almost gets himself killed on the mission involving the Seelie: Alec yells at him and tells him to suck it up; Mayrse once again is absent; and only Izzy checks in. Then, in the flash forward, Alec, Magnus, Izzy, Luke, Mayrse, and Maia all seem entirely unconcerned with Jace’s state of mind. Once again, he’s told to suck it up and move on.

4. Female characters/ sexuality generally on the show: So much could be written about the show’s treatment of its female characters generally. Book Izzy is strong and fierce, and yes, body and sex positive. Show Izzy is all over the map. S1 captures Izzy’s sass, but she’s treated like slutty eye candy sometimes. S2 and S3 Izzy has more depth, but less sass. Tell me again why she had to be a drug addict? Or, why she gets disarmed by Clary (who had a couple of months of training at that point in show time) in the finale? Or why she alone (vs. Mayre or Alec) is sent to check on a clearly suicidal Jace? To be clear, I loved the Jace/ Izzy bond, but why does the show let Alec and Mayrse off the hook w/ regard to Jace’s mental health, and leave Izzy w/ caretaking duties? And Mayrse, who seems to exist in season 3 solely for the purpose of being punished — and then being redeemed — for her S1 homophobia. She becomes “captain of the Malec ship” after being deruned, and then is shown caring for Alec when Magnus is in Edom, and nurturing the Malec relationship. But, she vacations in Brazil in the finale with zero regard for her grief-stricken, suicidal adoptive son? And then there is Maia. Why does she hook up with Jace against a wall behind a bar? And what’s with the forgiving her abuser storyline? And Clary. Believe me, nothing made me happier than the show’s decision to make reasonably short work of the incest story line. But to have Clary literally jump into bed with Simon, her bff? Immediately after learning --falsely, as it turns out -- that Jace was her sibling? Was that Clary’s first sexual encounter? Was is not weird to suddenly start sleeping with your friend (who you turned into the vampire, and who can walk in the daylight b/c he drank your ex-boyfriend/ now you think your sibling’s blood)? I know the books present Jace, Clary and Simon as a love triangle — YA, after all — but book Clary wrestles w/ her feelings for Simon. I get that aging them up on the show — which I liked — would have changed the dynamic around these relationships and the characters’ sex lives, but the handling of the Climon story line was so clumsy. And, in any event, why is S2 Clary snarky about Jace’s sexual past (the book club comments)? And in 3B, why does dark Clary manipulate — or worse — a basically roofied Jace at the club?

5. The Memory Wipe: OH.MY.GOD. I CANNOT EVEN CONVEY THE DEPTHS OF MY DISLIKE FOR THIS TROPE OF A PLOT POINT. In the book, Simon volunteers to give Asmodeus his memories, thus saving Magnus (and everyone else). Once again, this makes narrative sense -- Simon never wanted to be a vampire, and he (unlike Magnus) could survive the loss of his memories, and even return to mundane life. And, after Simon gives up his memories, his friends NEVER give up on him. Clary, Izzy, and the others watch him, they reach out to him, and eventually, with Magnus’s help, they reconnect with him. Magnus even says that stealing Simon’s memories was a little bit “fascist.”

Show Clary has it much, much worse. Let’s remember how it played out in the finale:

- Jonathan goes on a murderous rampage. Clary saves the world using her rune power, killing her last living relative, knowing she would be stripped of the Sight and her memories.

- Notwithstanding Jonathan’s mass slaughter and Clary’s sacrifice, the MOST IMPORTANT THING is that Magnus and Alec have decided to get married at the institute the very next day, after dating for about three months on-and-off in show time.

- And so we have much of the finale devoted to the wedding. We see everyone smiling and happy (despite the slaughter of shadowhunters around the world the day before and Jonathan’s death at Clary’s hands). We see Clary in a very revealing dress sobbing as she dances with her boyfriend and her runes are obviously disappearing -- but no one notices. We see Jace letting a sobbing Clary walk out the door.

- And then we see Clary alone, sobbing on the street in a revealing party dress, in the cold, with no memories, no I.D., no best friend, no love of her life, no money, no home (burned down in season 1), no mother (killed by Alec), no father figure. Nothing. I get that sacrifice is a shadowhunter virtue, but the trope of a memory wipe (I see you, Chuck) is SO far from canon, and so inconsistent with how Clare wrapped up the Clary (and Jace stories). Zero emotional logic.

- Then, to make matters worse, we jump ahead one year, and no one gives a shit about Clary or Jace or their sacrifice at all. Alec and Magnus are living their best life mixing cocktails in Alicante (leaving Alec’s clearly devastated and suicidal parabatai to just figure things out, I guess). Maryse (Jace’s adoptive mother) and Luke (Clary’s father figure) are vacationing in Brazil, seemingly more concerned about the humidity than they are about Clary or Jace; Izzy and Simon are loving life together at the NY institute (so much for Clary and Izzy as parabatai, or Simon and Clary’s friendship); and Simon tells a grieving, suicidal Jace -- the same Jace who almost killed himself a couple of weeks prior in show time -- to stop checking on Clary and to move on. Apparently, Simon thought that Maia’s naming a salad after Clary was enough. So much for Jace’s mental health. So much for Clary and Simon’s friendship (and in the books, their eventual parabatai bond).

- But, we we did get closure for the lizard/ Lorenzo; Underhill’s first name; and an update on Raphael. All of these developments were apparently more important than honoring Clary’s narrative arc, her chosen identify as a shadowhunter, her relationship with Jace, and her chosen family.

None of it made any sense.

1. Why would the angels strip Clary of the Sight when she used her rune power to SAVE THE DAMN WORLD? After all, let’s see who gets to keep the Sight/ memories in the showrunners’ telling: Valentine (insane, imprisoned an angel, killed downworlders and shadowhunters ); Jonathan (murderous, insane); Alec (killed Clary’s mother while possessed); Izzy (also possessed); Jace (killed his grandmother and mundanes while possessed, threw Clary off a roof, almost killed Alec); Jocelyn (almost killed Jace, circle member); Aldertree (despite getting Izzy addicted to drugs and torturing downworlders). The list goes on. But Clary’s invention of runes to stop her insane brother from destroying the world incurs the wrath of the angels?

2. The showrunners would have us believe that Clary lost the Sight (and her memories) because the angels were spiteful. How does this fit with Cassie Clare’s conception of angels AT ALL? They are completely unconcerned with human emotions in the books. And, why would only Clary suffer this fate when, as noted above, there are shadowhunters who did terrible things for entirely selfish or otherwise awful reasons?

3. In what world would Jace not notice his girlfriend’s runes disappearing? In what world would he ever let his sobbing, de-runed girlfriend -- whom he just got back from the twinning rune/possession/killing her last living relative -- walk out the door alone?

4. For a show so concerned about representation, what about Jace’s story as a survivor of childhood abuse and trauma? What about Jace’s near suicide earlier in 3B? Why does everyone in Jace’s life (specifically Alec after the Seelie mission and Simon in the finale) tell Jace to suck it up and move on when he is clearly depressed and suicidal? What about the show’s depiction of the relationship between Jace and his adoptive family? What message does the finale send about who was — and was not — a member of the Lightwood family when Mayrse and Alec either ignore Jace or yell at him when he is grieving and suicidal? So much for family. And, what about Clary’s mental health, after the showrunners stripped her of her friends, family, chosen family, memories, identity, home, and love?

And then, after all of this, the showrunners made things worse by talking up how important the wedding was for them, even as they made it clear they didn’t care about the resolution of the Clary, Jace and Clace story lines.

- The show runners misidentified the supposedly spiteful angel who I guess would have been the big bad in Season 4 in press coverage of the finale.

- They said they didn’t know where the Clary, Jace and Clace story was heading, and that “fan fiction” would figure it out.

- They talked about how difficult and important the seating chart was for the wedding, and about how they had tried to get every character, no matter how minor, back for the “reception” scene. And they spent precious time in the finale showing us party scenes involving ancillary non-canon characters (Underhill, Lorenzo) vs. coming up with a coherent resolution to the protagonist’s story.

- They engaged only with Malec content on social media, and talked endlessly how the show was a “love letter” to fans, and ignored less favorable fan reaction involving the Clary and Jace characters.

- Same drill for the writers, BTW. A young female writer for the show (who supposedly was the book stan in the writers’ room) has been on social media explaining how great it was Clary’s story line came “full circle” in finale. She’s now heading to a con with the show runners, having studiously ignored questions about the show’s treatment of Clary and Jace. (I get why she would do this — work, and all — but still.)

- To the extent the showrunners, producers, and writers have addressed Clary and Jace at all in press coverage of the finale, they have argued that the memory wipe was no harm/no foul b/c the final scene suggests that love conquers all. First, we knew that -- we are talking about a pulpy YA novel, after all. Second, if the last scene sends the message that love conquers all, it’s because Kat M. and Dom S., the performers, imbued that scene with more depth and emotion than the writing deserved. Finally, the love conquers narrative ignores the fact that Clary and Jace earned their character arcs as INDIVIDUALS, not just as half of a ship. Clary deserved her identity, her chosen family, and her love. Jace deserved his hard-won happiness with himself, and in his relationship with Clary (and in his relationships with Alec and Izzy). I personally didn’t want a wedding -- I don’t think anyone should get married after a few months of mostly unsuccessful dating. I did, however, want to see these characters enjoying their hard-won happiness vs. a dystopian future for two characters only, w/ a rom com meet cute tacked on at the end.

Fundamentally, the showrunners made SHTV into a fan service-, ship war- driven series of plotpoints in 3B and the finale. There are lots of potential reasons for this: Maybe they preferred the Malec storyline, and thought that playing to Malec fans might help the show get picked up (or maybe get a Malec spinoff approved); maybe they thought that punishing Jace and sidelining Clary might please some segments of the SHTV fandom; maybe they bought into the idea that the books are “problematic” and need to be fixed, or that dislike of certain performers justifies trashing the character. Whatever. The end result is the same: For me, they lost the narrative thread of the characters, and the emotional logic of the stories. They fed into a stupid ship war and a stupid book vs. show war. And, they played into scarcity, as if honoring Malec required tearing down Clace.

At the end of the day, the show runners’ decision to wipe Clary’s memory broke the show for me. No matter how much I love Malec, and no matter how amazing the last scene was (and how lovely the performances were in that scene), I will always believe that Clary and Jace deserved better.

And so I want to say to the showrunners and writers: NEXT TIME, LET YOUR PROTAGONIST HAVE HER STORY. SHE EARNED IT. (And FFS be tiny bit humble when there is source material :-).

#shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #shtv #clary #jace #clace #cassie clare #cassandra clare #tmi

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twistednuns · 5 years ago

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February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

#things i love #present perfect #personal #february 2020 #february #2020

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weareheadednorth · 6 years ago

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Happy New Year

I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions. I always know I won’t keep them and end up disappointing myself, because we often set goals for ourselves that we don’t actually want to follow through with. Then it ends up boiling down to your self-discipline. I don’t have much of that.

Anyway, this year I wanted to have one, so I picked something that’s been on my mind a lot lately in hopes that meant that I wanted it enough to follow through. I guess time will tell.

I want to document my thoughts more, and use them for meditation purposes, and ultimately (hopefully) some mental and emotional growth.

I forget. A lot. If it isn’t a birthday, it eventually leaves, and that undesirable quality of mind is probably the source of a large portion of my anxiety. Not only because I can’t remember what I’ve said, promises I’ve made, or who said what -- but because my grandmother died of Alzheimer’s. I know, almost certainly, that the disease is resting in my body, waiting until the perfect time to ruin the lives of those I am closest to. I fear early-onset, and tell myself that my inability to remember details and past conversations is simply a precursor to what the future holds. I am a hope for the best, prepare for the worst kind of girl.

What with the forgetting, I think it would be helpful to document my thoughts and feelings in the moment, even conversations that I’ve had. Maybe they’ll help my find shortcomings and strengths alike.

So, here we are. Welcome to Ramble Fest 2019.

I guess I’ll start with things that are most important to me.

I’m a spiritual person in a lot of different ways. The God & Jesus type. The Harmonic Universe type. The be nice, non-judgmental, karma type. The put your positive thoughts and feelings into the world type. Lots of different ones. There are some of these (namely the God and Jesus one) that I have always kept to myself simply because many of my friends don’t necessarily believe, or they’ve had people try and shove it down their throats, etc. It makes me sad sometimes that when they’re having a rough time, I can’t tell them I’ll pray for them and that carry any meaning. Some people associate religious beliefs with ignorance, being a republican, having a judgmental attitude, or hatred in general. The God that I know, love, fear, pray to, and believe in is not associated with any of that. I guess I just hate that my relationship with God can’t be shared because I don’t want to 1. be associated with what organized religion has become and 2. want to come off as being pushy. It often makes me sad that I don’t feel comfortable openly sharing the source of so much of my comfort and strength. My closeness to God has come a long way in the past 10 years or so, and I hope that I can continue to listen with an open heart and mind and become the person that God needs me to be.

Being human is overwhelming. I see it more and more everyday. I experience something, and my first, selfish reaction is “omg that was horrible no one has ever had to deal with something like this” which is closely followed by “don’t be an idiot you snowflake.” As years have passed and social media has progressed, we find ways to connect with others to make us feel less alone. People with similar interests or fears are within reach. Support groups, friends, anything we need can be found. It’s comforting to see something as simple as a meme that says “does anyone else pack underwear like they’re going to piss themselves every day of a trip?” Because in that moment you realize “oh wait, other people do/experience that, too. Enough people to create this meme and share it 1000s of time! I’m not alone!” Instant connection. Yay internet! But then you realize that you read that meme while sitting at a table with 4 other people and all of you are on your phone instead of connecting right there in person. Boo internet! Damn the double-edged sword. Did I use that saying right? Or is a double-edged sword two bad things? Eh.

Anyway, positive things to reflect on today: I have a husband & family who love and support me unconditionally. I have friends that I adore who fill so many different holes in my life. I have 2 precious dogs who bring me more joy than I ever thought possible. I am intelligent, capable, and opportunities are as available as I am willing to work for. I have a job that I don’t hate, a home, paid bills, and groceries in the fridge. I have minimal credit card debt and no student loans. I have a dentist appointment today that insurance will completely cover.

Things I need to make sure I’m doing: Always strive to provide my husband and family with the same, if not more support and love than they give me, seek God in everything I do, be aware of and grateful for the people in my life, realize the blessings I have been and continue to be given, speak without negativity, judgement, anger or harshness to others (and myself), seek spiritual and mental growth, remember that I am no better and no worse than any other human, freely forgive, and be thankful for simple things (i.e. - having all working appendages and organs, being of sound(ish) mind) that not everyone has. Here’s to hoping tomorrow is an even better day than today.

#newyearsresolution meditation growth

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robillardthoughts · 4 years ago

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thursday, march 25th 2021: a sliver of light at the end of the tunnel

i just looked at yesterday’s post and some of the buds did not happen LOL. it’s fine, anticipation is what brings me joy. when things don’t happen it sucks but it’s fine.

this title is also so long lmao, but i thought ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ wasn’t descriptive enough. it’s hard being a mediocre writer.

thorn

i clearly never get as much done as i want lol but i’m not even that mad about it because i know i’ll get back into it tomorrow

i can’t believe i watched... an entire hockey game... only for them to LOSE. in overtime, but still. i mean, it was a better result than i could’ve asked for on a back to back, but still

this isn’t really good or bad it’s just a neutral thing i want to observe to see how long it lasts for in these posts: the buffalo sabres have lost 16 games in a row. i do feel bad for the team. they’ve won 6 games out of 32, which must be so demoralising

rose

i was thinking today about how you get out what you put in. that’s definitely a super broad, general statement, but it’s true.

today’s post makes it a week since i’ve been posting on this blog, which makes me very happy <3 my life feels just more... right when i’m doing these, and it’s definitely a big source of happiness for me :-)

today my friend noticed that i had been left on read in a group chat and he was like “brb going to fix that” and he responded to me in the group chat and i felt so supported :’)

it’s just such a relief to be done my osce lol. like i think i was more nervous about that than my midterm (though maybe i will think differently tomorrow now that the imminent threat of the osce is over)

i am trying to convince my sister to stay longer. we’ll see how that goes (i don’t think she will tbh)

i worked a teeny tiny bit on my project and it made me so happy lol hehehe

i’m going to have an early night and not feel guilty about it! yay!

this girl told me i am like her 🥺 big 🥺 sister 🥺

iu came out with her new album today and i’ve already found a song to like and is on repeat! ofc it is the slow song b/c i am nothing if not consistent

bud

i’m wearing my mom’s fitbit b/c i want to see my sleep hehe i think that’ll be fun

it’s friday tomorrow!!! so excited for the weekend <3

my nails are long and they’re annoying me so i’m going to cut them rn

anticipating country twang taylor’s song that will drop in 24 minutes (wow look at me writing this post before midnight)

manifesting <3 some <3 starbucks <3 in my life tomorrow b/c it’s almost the end of the month and i haven’t finished my eating out budget hehe

#robillardthoughts #march 2021

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st0ned-butch-blues · 7 years ago

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new year, new me (for real this time)

2017 was absolutely the worst year of my life. But I have this weirdly strong gut feeling that 2018 will be a pivotal moment for me, and honestly I’ve never gone into a new year with this much optimism and willingness to grow and change. Here’s a long ass post for me to list out all the shit I want to work on and to just get all the clutter out of my head. This is the first time I’ve really set new year’s resolutions so yay me.

~2018 Resolutions~

1. Be healthier physically and mentally

Try to go to bed 1 am at the latest or get at least 7 hours of sleep.

No more binge eating vending machine snacks to replace meals.

tbh exercise is not realistic, but at least try not to be sitting 24/7 aka get off yo ass!!

Work on self-love. Put in the effort to dress nice so you feel more confident about yourself. Take more photos and maybe even post them on social media instead of being so hypercritical of your body.

But also it’s okay to be ugly?? Your worth is not tied to your beauty, and fuck a society that pressures women to be “beautiful” 24/7.

Remove the internalized shame you have against being sexually active (with yourself and with others), esp as a woman. You probably won’t be ready for the idea of casual sex. So first work on confronting your sexual trauma, getting over your trust issues, and trying to love your body the way it is. Maybe try masturbation as a solution towards healing your unhealthy relationship with sex??

Be better about self-reflection and capturing memories both good and bad (maybe actually commit to journaling for once) Allow yourself to feel things and talk about your emotions with others.

Develop healthier coping mechanisms when you’re having bad mental health days.

Animals give you so much sheer joy, so find a way to reintroduce animals in your life now that Izzie is gone. Maybe volunteer at the Humane Society. Being around animals will do wonders for your mental health.

2. Improve your social life

Be more involved SOCIALLY in clubs. Yes, you have a bunch of board positions and help w logistics and programming, but actually make an effort to socialize with the people in your clubs.

Tell your social anxiety to CHILL THE FUCK OUT. People don’t hate you. Branch out and make friends.

But also be a better friend to the ones you do have. Also stop being such a passive friend. Ask your friends to hang out, facetime, grab a meal, watch a movie, etc. Make a list of fun activities to do with friends!!

Fuck. Cishet. Boys. They are the biggest reason you’re as fucked up as you are right now, so you really need to take a break. Stop seeking validation from them and love your-fucking-self.

Instead, be more gay!! #happy20gayteen

But actually tho. You finally having the freedom to explore your queer identity. You’re not tied down by an unhealthy relationship and you’re an out and proud bi girl (at least in college). Find your queer community because THOSE ARE YOUR PEOPLE.

Stop obsessing over the idea of being in a relationship. That’s been your unhealthy security blanket for 3-4 fucking years and you need to learn how to love yourself independent of being in a relationship. Plus, you’re in such a shitty shape that it just wouldn’t be fair for anyone to date you rn. Stop being a hot mess and then just let a relationship come to you. If it happens it happens, and if it doesn’t, wait till there’s actually a decent dating pool when you move back to the west coast LOL.

3. Get your academic shit together. Plan for your future career/life.

Officially decided not to transfer. But be careful about falling into periods of depression. Try to not just survive, but find ways to be genuinely happy at Colby. Be productive, but in a healthy way.

Fuck grades. Learn for the sake of learning.

But also learn how to be a good student just to build good work habits. (buy the Forest study app since you’re highly motivated to help others and the planet more than you are helping yourself lmao... fight climate change while studying to fight climate change!!!!)

On that note, don’t skip class. It only makes you fall behind and anxious about your teachers hating you. (newsflash: they don’t!!)

Develop better relationships with teachers, don’t be afraid to interact with them just because they’re an authority figure.

Be the good student that you know you are. Don’t be afraid of failure or looking dumb. Participate in class! Ask those stupid questions! Get help when you need it!

Get back into reading and then take notes on significant findings/quotes cause you know your ADHD brain will forget. You got a nook and made a book list on goodreads, so that’s a good first step!

Create more content (photos, videos, documentaries, podcasts, make a list of projects you want to work on)

Watch more content (documentaries, maybe podcasts, and also tv shows/movies for fun)

Also clean up your personal blog, your tag system is a hOt mEsS

Continue learning more about environmental justice, sustainable agriculture, and food sovereignty.

Last year you definitely avoided red meat, but this year commit to 100% cutting out red meat and reducing your consumption of meat in general (esp when it is not responsibly sourced). Instead, eat sustainable seafood whenever possible.

Pay more attention to where you’re spending money and think about who you’re choosing to support with your dollar (maybe log your purchases and also learn how to budget?)

Continue reconnecting with your korean heritage. Learn the history, listen to korean music, possibly even learn the language. Keep talking about korean shit w korean ppl.

Don’t forget to apply for internships/summer programs, because you don’t want to be stuck with your family again for the entire summer. Maybe try to live in a city by yourself, or get away from your family/hometown in general.

#personal #im tired #and very much out of steam #I also have the last of my late work to finish tomorrow #currently I'm on page 14 of my paper and am dYInG

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elementalchick1 · 5 years ago

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Birds of Prey rewrite

Birds of Prey/ Harley Quinn Fix this story

My disclaimer: I ma more a Birds of Prey than Harley Quinn fan, though I love her in the cartoons and Suicide Squad. However, this movie was not good. Basically the story needs to be an empowering, funny, sexy, chick flick and it fails miserably. First, the costumes must be wonderful, not the trash bag thrift store panic shopping of the movie.

Synopsis: Harley and the Joker break up. Not sure what happened because it does not matter, but it happened when she was in prison. Harley does a drunken melt down, similar to the movie, but the soundtrack is “bang” by AJR. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4THFRpw68oQ During this Harley realizes that she has no friends. They are all Jokers crowd, and the ones who are still friendly think they are getting back together. They are also all gangster groupies. One can even quip “girls just wanna have fun”. This is different from the movie because she thought she had friends, not just Joker. Harley is doing what she calls couch surfing, which means breaking into rich people’s second homes while they are out and eating their food and raiding their closets. Harley is arrested and Amanda Waller tells her that she is on indefinite probation if she can show she is rehabilitated. Basically the suicide squad can only be from activated criminals who have potential to be rehabilitated instead of the worst. “I want you on a chain, but they want you lobotomized or put down like a rabid dog. Your choice. Is this you or is this him?” She chooses mandated rehab. “Which one?” “I don’t care. You are the psychiatrist. DO them all” New Rules: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2qgadSvNyU

SO we have the joy of Harley quin going through 12 step (and other) programs. Shot of a board at a Y/center with the Support Groups schedule. She takes the whole thing. Comedy montage of Bikram yoga mindfulness class, breaking the finger of a guy that gropes her, “SO sex addicts group was a mistake” etc. Visual quote of Fight Club support scenes. In “co-dependents no more” she meets Canary/Dinah, who she had seen around. Canary is assigned as her sponsor. Part of the fun is we are not sure who Canary means when she describes “Men in power are addictive. The surrender of control, the reduction to Id, seems like a type of freedom. But it is a cage. You are on their leash.” Ras-al Ghul or Arrow? (Hint underlying message- all of the birds in the movie destroy their cages- or make new ones) HQ:“You know the 12 step programs don’t work if you are an atheist.” Canary: “You know that placebos work even if you know it’s a placebo?” Therapy montage song options: I Love me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vImvzQCb0o8&list=PL3oW2tjiIxvTKa5OYCIb8TdKjxSYuv5dg&index=23

I drive me mad: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqBvK14JPGg&list=PL3oW2tjiIxvTKa5OYCIb8TdKjxSYuv5dg&index=36

In the different groups, she meets many people including Cassidy Cain in Klepto Anonymous. Harley co-opts and ends up leading several of the sessions. (I am OK with the casting of Canary but would like Camila Cabello. Though she could be Huntress.) Cassidy is a very different character from the movie. She is still 13, but smarter, and always on a phone. Running joke, it is a different phone in every scene. She is an epic pickpocket, appearing to be a clueless teen who bumps into people because she talks and texts and selfies all at once while actually picking people’s pockets and photographing security. She also gleans information and is the source of information on why people hate Harley. “Wow. You should see his Instagram. He should be banned for those images. Just a sec. Done.” She is the definition of plucky comic relief. Casting should actually cast a minor. (Marsai Martin, Mckenna Grace, Brooklynn Prince.)

The Bertinelli Diamond is a nice plot device, bringing in Huntress who is tracking it as well as the gangsters who killed her family. (BTW this needs to be recast with someone who has a charisma and can at least dance. Madison Beer, Nicole Maines, Hailee Steinfeld, etc. Huntress wears motorcycle leathers, a very Asian gang vs American biker look) HQ: “OOo! Italian leather!” The Huntress backstory is necessary but cut the bit about young Helena drawing with crayons. If she draws, it should be recognizable. She’s had art lessons since 2.

Harley sees Cassidy Cain on the street steal from a known gangster. The chase begins. We can keep the glitter cannon/ prop room brawl, but it should be a gangster hideout not the police station, (unless she can get out of it another time and have a joke where Canary coughs “white privilege”) However, to preserve a better story arc, let’s move this to a gangster vault, and have this be where we meet the Huntress. Here is where we realize that Harley loves to hit things, but hates to shoot things. Huntress is fine shooting things. “Do you have to kill everybody?” “Do you have to blow up every crime scene?” “yes” Bad Guy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyDfgMOUjCI

SO Harley has Cassidy and Huntress hanging around. Huntress wants to use Cassidy as bait while they wait for the diamond to drop. Funny bit as Huntress gets sucked into group, probably an anger management group. “I always wanted to be a teacher” Harley wants to finish her program and needs to check in with her sponsor. She is on step 8/9.

Canary: “DID you make your list” HQ: “ I think so.” Drops a ream of paper. “I have to apologize to everyone?” “It’s a start. And I know someone you could start with. It might be easier than the rest because she was hurt when you were in jail” HQ”????” Canary “Practice” Barbara Gordon is never referred to using her whole name. (casting: Liana Liberato, Kennedy McMann) The cop in the movie is completely unnecessary. Either have Oracle, “B” be in the movie or cast someone like Rosario Dawson to be a kick ass Hispanic cop and have her stuck in vice and always asked to work for ICE. Since Gotham city embodies the worst of our current world skewed through a dark lens of madness, having the women in the movie own that “the women in Gotham are the ones who have to clean up and deal with the shit and the fallout of all the crazies.”-B. “That ain’t me”-HQ. “You act like the only options are to be the ass who trashes the place or the maid. (I’m going to) Find something else”-Cassidy. The rest of the film is Bs first real run as Oracle, remotely feeding them information, using drones, shutting down the bad guys tech. “There’s more than one way to fight.”

At the climax, which does have a giant brawl of gangster thugs after the team, but all of the team, each having a dose of enemies. It begins with a girl power makeover scene as they are arming. Cassidy:“We should RUN!” Huntress: “I have been running and hunting my whole life. I want this over” Huntress gets carbon fiber outfit from B “Moves better than leather and is knife and bullet resistant, but not proof” Harley gives Canary the fishnets. “Just try them. You need some fun.” The girls make Harley stop with the white face. “Keep the Harlequin Loose the clown. “ Cassidy has a CIA briefcase she stole from the gangster prop room HQ: “Where’s ya get that?” Cassidy:” Stole it from the gangsters but can’t open it” B:”Here let me” It is adaptive camouflage stealth tech armor. Cassidy: ”Yay! You can’t hit what you can’t see” HQ and Huntress: ”That’s what grenades are for” HQ: “Jinx!” B: “No grenades!” HQ:”we know. No Grenades! (softer)… inside”

Makeover song montage options: My way: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5I4KwxMXAA

All the good girls go to hell: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PZsSWwc9xA

Nice to meet ya: (also might work for the group therapy montage)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRvKL8FnrtU&list=PL3oW2tjiIxvTKa5OYCIb8TdKjxSYuv5dg&index=42

The massive gangster fight proceeds. The movie does OK with this except for the dubious production design, and the lack of using Huntress well. And that all of the gangsters are completely incompetent. Note on the bad guys: We do not need a named bad guy. The “Black mask” was lame and sucked screen time. It can just be gangs, at least one run by the gangster(s) Huntress needs to kill. But just mafia, not stupid mask nonsense. As part of the makeover montage, they make a plan and set up a kill zone. B: Looking at Cassidy:”cough- Capture zone” Cassidy (on phone) “Please, what am I 12? Gotham only has kill zones.” B: “maybe we can change that” HQ: “Not tonight we can’t. Baby steps” Huntress snipes the ones with automatic guns that enter the building. Casandra fights and hides. Dropping stuff from vents, etc. When the dust settles, Joker appears: “DO I have to do everything myself?” He tries to talk Harley into coming back, She freezes, then realizes he is just distracting her so he can grab Cassidy. It works. She chooses her new life and goes to get Cassidy. She defeats him and kicks him off of the pier, possibly while analyzing him. “You were a horrible boyfriend!”

At the end, Birds of Prey is formed, with the good costumes. HQ:“I drop by every now and then, but I need to work on me. Cassidy stays with B, but we see each other all of the time” “Do I have to stay with you? You’re no fun” B: “I’m the only one who can pass a background check”

HQ; “I got an apartment. I had to get a roommate but I think it will work out.” There is a shot of the Help board at the Y/center with the “roommates” section and she grabs one of every tab numbers including one that says “Ivy” (Cameo of Evan Rachel wood or one of the CW redheads asking “Do you like plants?”) (This can occur earlier if we need a comic break)

“And I got a job. Turns out in Gotham, group leaders can have an expired license.” Shot of Harley sitting in a bright spotlight with a notepad in a shadowed room full of figures in chairs with a highlight on a cape, an animal ear, etc. “Who wants to go first?”

Playlist:

My Oh My: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fd2kkLmSDQ&list=PL3oW2tjiIxvTKa5OYCIb8TdKjxSYuv5dg&index=18

The man: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AqAJLh9wuZ0&list=PL3oW2tjiIxvTKa5OYCIb8TdKjxSYuv5dg&index=27

Good in goodbye: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQZJsOSw1pU&list=PL3oW2tjiIxvTKa5OYCIb8TdKjxSYuv5dg&index=45

Bang bang: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HDdjwpPM3Y

New Rules: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2qgadSvNyU

Burn the house down: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnyLfqpyi94

Good as hell: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmbmeOgWsqE

Beach bunny Prom Queen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dc6SSu5pnHw

Bored: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsPxaAVg584

Kings and queens: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jH1RNk8954Q

Sweet but a psycho: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXBHCQYxwr0