#are there serious problems with her work? undeniably
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the more i read older roy comics, the more i appreciate how devin grayson writes him. i feel like she really read up on & understood the character when she did his solo & titans 1999
#i’m due for a rent lowering post so here’s a reminder that devin grayson is one of my favorite superhero comics writers#are there serious problems with her work? undeniably#but there are so many male writers who have done similar/worse things in their work & public comments#and i don’t see the same backlash when people talk about liking aspects of their writing or certain storylines they wrote#roy harper#devin grayson
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Love and Dryer Sheets II
Read the rest here: Love and Dryer Sheets
I'm not sure if you saw but there's going to be some pretty big reveals in this section I think. I feel like you might not like the ending of this part but I hope I'll start making it up to you in the next parts.
~6.3k words
Warnings: angst, fluff, Harry is an ACTUAL a-hole, toxic relationships mentioned, described. Relationships are hard, love is complicated. Cheating. Please read with caution.
Sitting across from her on the washer reading his book while she read hers. That was the only other time that he felt pure, silent, peace. It needed an explanation, but he couldn’t give it one. He was so infatuated with her so instantly it was like the part of his brain that controlled his heart saw her and said: Ah, yes. You found her. Finally.
Harry was undeniably (and unapologetically) obsessed. He spent so much time walking down to the laundry room just to see if she was there that his calf muscles were getting a serious work out from the number of stairs he had been descending and climbing, over the last month since he met her. It was pathetic. He would head to the basement after checking the mail in the alcove by the main office. When he “needed fresh air” he ran down to the steps and poked his head in after dashing outside for all of thirty seconds, like a loon. It was good they didn’t have a doorman, he would have saw right through Harry.
If he saw her doing laundry, he ran back to his apartment and put together a mishmash of random clothes and towels so he could hurry back and get a sense of calm for a half hour. Even if it was just five items. And sometimes he washed clean towels. But the laundry room was free—one of the biggest perks of this building.
The biggest perk of all was her of course.
The anger Harry felt nearly all hours of the day swelled and swelled when he was home. It made him want to bash his head through the wall and he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t just fix his problem. Therapy might have helped. Maybe even one of those Eat, Pray, Love retreats to center himself could have provided some guidance. Or maybe he should have just told Gemma what the problem was, and his big sister would come to his rescue as she usually did. Maybe she would be able to tell him exactly what to do and everything could have been fine.
But admitting he had a problem seemed like the opposite of fixing it.
So, he only felt at ease during two time periods these days.
One of the times was while working. Which was a feat itself because there was only so much relief that he could find staring at his computer screen for eight hours on end. The numbers were boring, and he could manipulate them or analyze them in his sleep as needed. It was brainless to him and made it easy to turn off the anger for a bit of time and just focus on patterns. There was a sense of tranquility among the numbers. They had a clear answer when put together; his conscience didn’t yell at him when he was at work. It was also the only time he didn’t think about the sunshiny princess that liked laundry.
Sitting across from her on the washer reading his book while she read hers. That was the only other time that he felt pure, silent, peace. It needed an explanation, but he couldn’t give it one. He was so infatuated with her so instantly it was like the part of his brain that controlled his heart saw her and said ah, yes. You found her. Finally.
But Harry didn’t believe in soulmates. He couldn’t believe in soulmates.
“Your wash is done,” she murmured without looking up from her page. Harry was already staring at her, so he wasn’t terribly surprised when she spoke. Her gaze didn’t shift from the words on her page when she spoke. Even with Harry ogling her. How long had he been staring at her? Did she even notice? Did she care? It made him a little nervous that he was so infatuated with her; he wanted to know if it was one-sided. It probably was. Simply because Harry was so grumpy and there wasn’t a whole lot of talking when they spent their hour together doing laundry. She exuded this bubbliness. It was in her aura or whatever wave of energy she gave off to the rest of the world. She was sweet and kind. Harry was grumpy and obsessed. She was probably just too polite to tell him to go away. Harry wished she was staring at him the way he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
You need to get a grip. His conscience was resigned but still trying. It was all the little voice could do at the moment. Harry slid from the washer and quickly dumped his stuff into the basket to transfer it over to the dryer. She giggled at her book and Harry thought his heart might melt out of his ribcage at the sound.
He mindlessly put the stuff in the dryer. With her advice, he went out and bought the sweet-smelling dryer sheets that made his clothes less stiff and reminded him of her. Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot. It sounded like his conscience simply up and left the office. Slamming the metaphorical door on Harry’s absolute hopelessness.
Harry returned to the washer he was sitting on and went back to his book. If someone came down and the other washers were filled, he would have to give it up and find a different spot to perch while he waited for the dryer and he hated when that happened. Watching her read was one of his new favorite past times. “How was work?” He asked her without looking up from his book.
“It was fine,” she shrugged. “We got some really good news for one of our patients which is great. But sometimes they...almost struggle more with good news than bad news. It’s common enough. They’ve had so much bad happen, it’s hard to believe good can happen. Does that make sense?”
Harry looked up finally and admired her beauty silently. It was hard to believe. “Perfect sense,” he murmured.
“How about you? How’s work been this week?” She asked, putting her book in her lap and giving Harry her full, undivided attention.
It seemed nearly unnatural to be so smitten with someone he had met just over a month ago. Maybe she did like him? Liked him enough to ask about work and not tell him to take a hike. Maybe laundry was her time for peace and Harry was ruining that. “Work is fine. S’a little boring. Jus’ numbers and reports.”
“Do you like it?” She asked, tilting her head at him.
He nodded. “Yeah, I do. S’exactly what I wanted t’do.”
“Then it’s not boring,” she smiled so sweetly, Harry thought he would get a cavity.
They sat there smiling at each other for a few blissful moments. But then someone entered the room with their bag of laundry. “S’my cue,” he grumbled in annoyance.
She smiled. “I’ll keep an eye on your dryer,” she said. “Guard it with my life,” she promised opening her book again.
She is really nice. His conscience admitted. Harry smirked to himself, his internal monologue finally agreeing with him. But you’re still an absolute idiot.
*
She was putting away her laundry in the correct drawers when there was a knock on her door. She nearly sprinted to the door dropping her T-shirts on the floor at the sound of the person on the other side. She was giggling as she made her way to the main room of her apartment and flew across the space to yank the door out of the way. The door was barely open, and she was tackling Niall in the biggest hug she could manage.
“Hey princess,” he chuckled wrapping his arms around her tightly. “How are you?”
She pulled back. “Better now that you’re here.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was only gone two weeks.”
“It was a year,” she nodded firmly.
“I helped you move in, darling,” he rolled his eyes and entered the apartment. He inspected her décor, looked at the arrangement of her furniture, and admired the big window looking out over the little main street that led to town. “S’beautiful here,” he told her with a smile.
She nodded, answering with her own grin. “It is.”
“Are you happy?” He asked.
She nodded again. “Yes, very.”
His smile didn’t falter as he nodded appreciatively at her response. He wanted the very best for her. “I saw Dickhead,” he told her.
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not his name, Niall.”
“It may as well be,” he grumbled sitting on the sofa. She flopped down beside him resting her head on his shoulder. “I hate him,” he reminded her.
“I’m not really a big fan either,” she giggled.
“I would kill him for you.”
“I know you would,” she patted his leg. “But that’s not necessary. I’m away from him, I’ve got this cute place, I’m out of my parents’ crazy house,” she smirked and rolled her eyes. “And... I think I... may have met someone.”
“Why didn’t you lead with that, darling?” He said, turning toward her so he could look at the adoration that fell over her face. “Where did y’meet him? What’s he like? Does he like you?”
Niall had been her best friend since high school when he moved to town and didn’t know anybody. He looked overwhelmed trying to find his classes and she just looped her arm around his elbow and started walking him through the hall on an impromptu tour as if she always knew him. When questioned about being late, she explained that she had been asked to guide Niall around since he was new. Since she had a beautiful smile and that kind personality, it was impossible to think she was lying. But even if she had been caught in a lie, she wouldn’t have minded because it was for Niall.
Niall was the funniest, kindest, best friend anyone could ask for. Her parents and his parents asked all the time why they didn’t just get married. They were so close. Sometimes they didn’t even talk to each other for hours on end. It was effortless to be friends. Sitting quietly together made them happy. “I’ll marry you if you can’t find anyone by the time we’re thirty-five,” Niall winked.
She rolled her eyes at the time, but after her most recent breakup, it felt like maybe she would be marrying Niall once they turned thirty-five. “I don’t want to marry you,” she said with a shrug. “I feel like once you’ve seen someone eat a whole large pizza on their own the magic is just gone.”
“Darling, that is exactly the reason you should marry someone,” he laughed. But it was okay, because he didn’t want to marry her either. She was his best friend.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
But really, they didn’t date because they just knew it wasn’t what they needed. They needed to be friends. They wanted to be friends. Best of friends. She was the first one to swoop in and tell Niall everything would be okay when he was upset or nervous about something new. Niall knew how to make her feel better when her cramps were bugging her or when she had a really long day.
Or when her parents’ fighting finally got to her.
She loved her parents, really, she did. But most of the time it didn’t seem like they loved each other. The last thing she wanted was to end up like them with anyone she dated long term—but especially not with Niall. He always listened to her vent about how their arguing bothered her. How it worried her. It made her nervous that her future relationships were doomed before they started; because what kind of example had they set for her?
Niall could assuage her worries with ease. It had been many years of him listening and offering advice. There was so much about relationships they didn’t know in their high school and college years. Maybe there was something about her parents’ relationship that she would never know.
“They got you out of the deal, princess,” he told her after a particularly bad night at home. “Think that would keep me around on it’s own.”
She wasn’t sure that was honestly the best idea or solution on the subject. But it did make her feel better at the time. Which was why she loved Niall so very much and never wanted to do anything to jeopardize their friendship.
But despite no one finding Niall before she did on his first day of school, Niall needed no help at all when it came to dating. He had plenty of girlfriends over the years. Some were intimidated by their friendship, but most were fine with it—especially after they met her.
“Niall, I think I want to marry her. Are you sure you don’t want to date her?” One of his girlfriends in college asked him and of course he relayed the message.
So, being friends was easier, better, for them.
She went on dates but didn’t have a lot of long-term boyfriends. Dickface as Niall said, was her most recent relationship. They dated for nearly three years. He was controlling, did not like Niall very much, and in Niall’s opinion he was always one inconvenience, one irritation away from harming his best friend either emotionally (or, terrifyingly enough, physically) and Niall wouldn’t stand for that one second longer than he had to.
It got really bad around the two-and-a-half-year mark. She had called Niall crying. Niall wasn’t used to that. She was unbelievably strong and even with the saddest job in the world, he thought there was nothing that her sunny disposition couldn’t fight through.
Niall didn’t even hear what the problem was. When he thought about it now, he didn’t even remember what the issue was that she told him over the phone. Niall was already heading to their place, packing her overnight bag, and getting her out of there. She had to move back home for a bit making her crazier than ever as she listened to her parents fight and argue every night.
She hadn’t talked about another guy since their breakup.
Niall never really understood how she ended up with her ex anyway. He was nothing like her. He wasn’t sunny enough for her. His mood soured so rapidly it was like being with a ticking time bomb. As much as Niall told her he didn’t think it would work out, he knew it would have to be her to figure it out. Until she called him (or if something really bad actually happened), he would have to let her be her own person and support her as much as possible.
Until they broke up, Niall never hated him. If his best friend saw something good in him, then there was something good. Some people just don’t work out. Some people don’t click—or stop clicking, and it takes a while to see it.
“I met him doing laundry,” she told him with a laugh. “How silly is that?”
Niall smirked. “Yeah? What’s his name?”
“Harry,” she took a deep breath and looked at her hands. “He sits and does laundry with me. It’s quiet and we read our books. We chat too, but really, it’s just... comfortable.”
Her whole life was loud. Hospitals were loud. Her parents were loud. Niall, when he was excited, was louder than anyone she knew. Laundry was quiet. Laundry was a chore that always eased her mind a bit—especially when everything in her brain was tired and longing for serenity. When Harry came in grumbling and angry, she worried he would ruin the one thing that made her happy and calm.
Maybe that was why she offered him to use her laundry detergent. Maybe it was her first selfish act in so many years of listening to constant arguing and being in a relationship that made her feel anything but peace. So, when Harry accepted her help, when he kept sitting with her and enjoying the peacefulness of the chore, it felt like... fate.
“That’s adorable,” Niall smiled. “Have you asked him out?”
“Absolutely not, Niall. That’s so creepy. I’ve seen his underwear.”
“He’s probably seen yours,” Niall reminded her. “Already at third base, y’know?”
She punched him in the stomach without force behind it. “Shut up.”
“Well, what else do you know about him?”
“Honestly, not much. But he’s nice...a little...grumpy.”
Niall narrowed his eyes at her immediately. “Listen, darling. I’m not about to watch you be in the same relationship you just left. I don’t want to be the friend that tells you who to date or whatever but—”
“Niall, this is completely different.”
He didn’t buy it. And maybe he wouldn’t force her to break up with her last boyfriend, but he would absolutely stop her before something bad happened. “Why’s he grumpy?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know...but he’s not grumpy toward me. Mom is always on the defensive. Dad is always playing the victim. Dickhead was always annoyed with whatever I did...” she trailed off. She caught Niall’s smirk as she used his nickname appropriately. “Harry is... I don’t know. I don’t seem to annoy him... I think I might... I don’t know. I get the sense that he doesn’t feel very at peace sometimes. But... when we read and wait for laundry... I don’t know... he seems... happy.”
“Well, that is quite the feat now isn’t it,” Niall smirked. But he knew it was true. She was this bright spot of sunshine. She could make the saddest situations happier. She had this way of mediating situations she had no business being a part of into something better. When they were at stores and the customer in front of her in line gave the cashier a hard time, she was the first person to defend the employee and work out a compromise or explain it in a different way. Of course, whoever crossed her path had no choice but to agree with her. See it from her perspective.
Being friends with the kindest soul he knew was amazing.
But it meant Niall had to protect her peace because not very many people did it for her in the past.
“I am a delight,” she reminded him with another punch.
She can hold her own. Niall thought with a smirk to himself. “Truly.”
She thought about Harry’s soft brown locks and his green eyes that haunted her dreams. It was... the universe talking to her. It had to be. Even if she didn’t believe in that stuff. Even if she didn’t want to believe in it. Because Harry was simply too good to be true. He had already spent hours in that dark and damp basement with her doing a house chore of all things.
But there was the other most amazing coincidence that rattled her to her core. “Niall... he...” she sighed dreamily. “He brought up The Wizard of Oz without me... saying anything.”
That certainly lit a lightbulb in Niall’s brain. He looked over toward the bookshelf beside her TV display. One whole shelf had various editions of the book. A collection she had thrifted and worked hard on since she got her very first job in high school. Gifts from Niall and other friends and family helped make her collection bigger. The books weren’t necessarily worth money or anything, but they were a part of what she loved. Part of what made her...her. That was priceless.
“Really,” he sounded just a little skeptical. She couldn’t blame him—she was skeptical. She never thought in a million years she would have a soulmate. It didn’t seem possible given the display of “love” she had at home. “That’s...that’s kind of crazy.”
She nodded in agreement. “I was...speechless.”
“Another feat.” She rolled her eyes and Niall received another punch to his stomach. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “Well... let’s go run your errands so you can go do laundry like an old married couple with your new guy.”
*
Harry was once more ascending the steps from the basement disappointed to see she wasn’t there. It had been nearly five days since they’d done laundry together. The anger he felt was causing the familiar shake to reappear in his hands which he thought might permanently be balled into fists. If he didn’t see Sunshine soon, he might have to go right to her door to find her.
However, he was looking at his phone to answer a text when he heard her laughter. It was pathetic that he could recognize it by sound already. Like a child, he hid behind the mail alcove peeking around the corner to see what made her laugh so hard.
The anger was there to stay.
A man had his arm around her shoulders, and she was still snickering at whatever he said. The smile on his face matched how Harry felt whenever he was around her.
Harry wanted to kick himself. Of course, she would find a new guy quickly. She was adorable, intelligent, sweet, and sunshiny. Any guy would be stupid not to fall for her. Obviously, it happened to Harry so very quickly.
Even when it shouldn’t have. His conscience reminded him futilely.
Not the time, he grumbled back internally to the little voice. But Harry believed no one could control who they fell for. There was a click, a sigh of relief, a sense of recognition that passed over two people and they just knew. It looked like whoever had his arm around her knew that she was a sense of relief. He found her.
Harry didn’t believe in soulmates.
Not anymore.
So, the anger would stay.
*
Harry flopped onto the couch and ran his hands over his face as he tried to compartmentalize all the emotions he felt. Jealousy, anger, and frustration was not a good look. He should have just told Gemma. Gemma always knew what to do. But falling for someone...he wasn’t sure Gemma could help. Wasn’t sure that Gemma would want to help.
“I thought you were going out?”
If Harry was in a better headspace, he might not have noticed the attitude. Or maybe there wasn’t attitude and he made it up from just being so angry. “No, love. Change of plans,” he murmured.
She stood in the doorway. “So, you got all mad and worked up, stormed out, just to come back?”
Harry definitely wasn’t imaging her attitude—it was plain in her voice, in her posture. It was like she was looking to argue and fight. “M’sorry,” he said sincerely. “Does that interrupt y’plans or something?” He asked her, turning toward her figure in the entryway of the kitchen. It felt like he already lost because of the defensive tone in his voice in the question he asked.
Ava was supposed to be his soulmate. Harry always thought she was. When they met his heart did the fluttering thing that it was supposed to do when he met someone he liked. The butterflies in his stomach took flight. She took his breath away. She was funny and beautiful. Harry knew he liked kindness, but if he knew that Ava’s kindness was limited back when he met her, he might not have ever dated her.
Harry loved Ava. He did.
But sometimes he didn’t love her the way he used to love her.
Maybe that should have been a clue to him to just end it. They had been together for almost five years. Things were comfortable even if they were tense. Harry liked living here. Especially now.
No. His conscience said simply. Not okay.
Truthfully? Harry should have ended it three years ago. Harry was constantly apologizing on behalf of Ava when they were at parties or dinner. When they hung out with friends, they could sense their tenseness. If he were honest with himself, their relationship had an expiration date, and they were soured now. He hid the bad parts of his relationship from everyone he knew. From his mum, his sister, his friends...
Even himself.
Maybe it took meeting the girl obsessed with laundry who reminded him of pure sunshine, to get his mind thinking about all of it again. That would make some sense. Harry should have asked his mum what to do. But Harry was on his own. He was a fully grown adult and he had to figure out what to do and make his own mistakes. His mum and sister couldn’t fix this for him. Especially because he needed to admit that there was something to fix, first.
But the calmness he felt every time he walked into the laundry room was hard to ignore.
That’s fair. His conscience admitted.
Rubbing his hands over his face again he looked at Ava. “What d’you want t’do then?”
She sighed so loudly. It was like knives digging into his heart. “Forget it. I’ll change my plans.”
“What the fuck, Ava? Like are y’having someone over and y’want me gone? Jesus...”
“Shut up, Harry,” she rolled her eyes. “I just don’t want people seeing us argue.”
“We don’t have t’argue, y’know.”
“I know that. I don’t think you know that.”
This was how it went. All the time. Arguing about nothing until Harry got so worked up and angry, he stormed back to the laundry room. But now he wasn’t going to do that. Not when he knew that the sweet girl that he met there was probably in a healthy, normal, beautiful relationship with the man that had his arms around her shoulders.
So, he would argue with Ava.
Because what else was he supposed to do?
*
The entire time she ran her errands with Niall, she thought about Harry. It wasn’t that Niall wasn’t good company. It was just that everything reminded her of Harry. The color green, the title of a book he had read in her presence that she saw while they walked through target, a jersey of the soccer team he liked that she had seen him throw in the dryer at least three times already...
The overwhelming...peace she felt just by thinking about him was practically unnatural. Her stomach twisted with longing to be near him. Not that she didn’t love hanging out with Niall—of course she loved to hang out with her best friend. But there was something about Harry that drew her to him. It was like he was this beacon of comfort.
Niall held her bags while they headed back into her apartment building. Part of her wanted to take the elevator to the fifth floor and knock on every door until she found him and could introduce Niall to him. But that would be insane.
“Do you know any of your other neighbors?” Niall asked as they waited for the elevator.
“Oh crap, yeah! Actually, I told my elderly neighbor I would grab her mail,” she said taking a sharp right turn into the mail room. The elevator pinged a moment later with its arrival. Niall chuckled following her. She stood in front of the silver boxes embedded in the wall and searched for her neighbor’s box along with her own. With the two mail keys on her key ring, she quickly opened the box and pulled out her neighbor’s mail first, and then her own. She sifted through her letters checking for anything of importance for just a moment. Niall waited patiently, not that it would take her long.
“Are you going to stand in front of the boxes all day?”
She turned around and looked at the woman who spoke. She was stunning. She should have been a model. It rendered her completely speechless. Or maybe it was the cranky attitude that made her voice catch in her throat. But she was staring at her as if she were stupid for taking up space. “Oh, sorry,” she murmured quickly and stepped around her.
The woman released an irritated scoff. It was sad that she felt bad about being in the way. Maybe it was the annoyance the woman had in her voice. It made her feel bad that she did something wrong. It was her fault that she was in the way. Maybe that was ridiculous to spiral so quickly—especially when the woman could have easily said excuse me. But she tended to blow things out of proportion when she felt like she did something wrong.
Niall eyed the woman suspiciously from the entryway to the alcove and glared at her for the attitude she showed his best friend. He knew she was probably already spiraling in her delightfully sunny brain and feeling bad even though the woman was rude. She quickly pushed Niall toward the elevator before he said something that would make her untoward attitude for her worsen. Once in the elevator Niall looked at his best friend.
“Who pissed in her Cheerios?” He grumbled.
“That was a lot for the mailroom,” she agreed even though she still felt bad.
Niall smirked. “Guess not all your neighbors are friendly. Wicked witch,” he muttered.
She ignored the comment–even though she found it a little funny. “Oh, you’ll love Mrs. Williams. She thinks everyone she meets is the cutest, sweetest thing. And she’s always baking something.”
Exiting the elevator and returning to her apartment, Niall chuckled to himself. “I don’t know if Mrs. Williams could say that about her.”
She was never one to speak ill of someone else—especially someone she didn’t know. But the little nit-picking part of her brain that she was unable to ignore thought Niall might be right. That was extremely rude for no reason. But she shouldn’t judge. Maybe she was having a bad day. The very same thing happened with Harry and look how nice he turned out to be.
“Can I meet Harry?” Niall asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows. It was like he heard her thoughts about the very man. Maybe he did. It felt like her brain just kept shouting his name repeatedly. Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry...
This was unhealthy and ridiculous. Soulmates weren’t real. Harry was just a nice person who liked to read while they did laundry together. Maybe he would have done it whether she was there or not. It was a necessity and after his laundry was almost moved from the washer he very well could have changed his tune and just been there for the safety of his belongings.
It had nothing to do with her.
...Right?
“Um...I guess...we could go see if he’s doing laundry,” she suggested. “But you can’t be weird.”
“Darling,” he put a hand over his heart as if she really insulted him. “I can’t believe you would say that about me. M’not weird.”
She looked at him blankly while he smiled so excitedly at her, it was like he was asking for candy at the grocery store before dinner and she was telling him no. “Don’t be ridiculous around him either.”
He rolled his eyes. “My best behavior,” he promised.
*
Laundry was calming. He should have known. It seemed like she knew everything there was to know—particularly about this silly little chore. Since he saw her with another guy, and of course another spat with Ava that turned into a bigger deal than it should have (as it always did), he needed to do something to calm himself. He wanted out of the apartment that hosted hostility in every particle of the air. It was a risky move to go to the very room that they had met. It reminded him that she was out with another man, and it was none of Harry’s business.
It also doesn’t matter. Harry wished his conscience had an off switch. He knew the voice of reason was really just the rational part of his brain trying to make sense of how fucked up his brain was acting. Laundry was her thing. He shouldn’t have tried to make it his own just because he liked her. When you shouldn’t.
Harry was going to stick his head in the washer and run the spin cycle just to get his conscience to shut up.
He heard her laughter and of course it made his crummy mood worsen. He was going to have to pretend that he wasn’t upset about something he had no right to be upset about. It was then he realized she wasn’t alone.
There was no way he could pretend he wasn’t mad when he heard her laughter paired with a guy’s laughter.
You’re hopeless. His conscience told him. Harry kept his eyes on his book. Reading The Wizard of Oz seemed like the worst idea in the world at that moment, but he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to her. Everything about her. Getting to know her more, even through an early 20th-century children’s novel, was the only thing that made sense when everything in his life seemed so... sad.
“Hey Harry,” her voice sounded like how the sun looked after it rained. Right before a rainbow appeared and the raindrops were dripping off trees. He couldn’t not look up.
“Hey,” he murmured quietly with a forced smirk.
Her smile was so kind it was hard for him to be annoyed that she was so happily taken. Especially when he wasn’t happy. Furthermore, since she was happy...without him. “This is my best friend, Niall. He wanted to meet you,” she said gesturing to the man he had previously seen holding her around the shoulders.
Best friend. Do you see how fucking stupid you are? Harry wasn’t sure if that was his conscience or just the general voice in his head but the way the anger melted off him wasn’t normal. He was stupid. Getting all worked up over something he wasn’t even sure about—about something that wasn’t even rightfully his to be annoyed.
“Hey, Harry. Heard a lot about you. She’s got you in her Wizardly book club I see,” he smiled holding his hand out for Harry to shake. It seemed utterly insane that Harry didn’t like Niall just because he held her the way he wanted to hold her. Even though it was now obvious it was a friendly thing.
“Ah...yeah...jus’ started it though,” he smiled feeling the sourness he felt toward her best friend dissipate by the second. “Y’must have read it, yeah?” He asked Niall.
“Oh, read it, watched it, had her read it to me, watched a documentary, went to the museum about it.”
“Please, make me sound crazier.”
“You do it all on your own, darling,” Niall winked at her.
Harry smiled at their banter. It seemed so...effortless. Maybe it would have been easier for Harry if they were a couple. Harry could see how much they adored each other just from their laughter and inside jokes that he had only witnessed through the looks they gave each other. It was nice. Harry was glad she had someone like Niall to adore her unconditionally.
But it also made him want to do it just as much.
“How long have y’known each other?” Harry asked, putting his book on the washer beside him. She dumped her stuff into the washer across from him, like she always did while Niall did the math in his head.
“Since we were fifteen,” he smirked. “So... twelve years.”
“Mmm... Niall has been the same immature nuisance since he was fifteen,” she smiled.
“Is that so, princess? I recall you getting all flustered at the duty-free store when we went to Canada last summer.” She rolled her eyes and Harry was simply overwhelmed by how much he liked her. “Sorry to meet you and leave Harry, but the missus is calling me about dinner,” he said.
Ah. So, they really aren’t meant to be. That boded well for Harry.
“Tell her that my hourly fee goes up when you insult me in front of new friends,” she said without turning around to watch Niall head for the door. He rolled his eyes at Harry and sighed.
“Good luck with her. It’s nice knowing not all of her neighbors are wicked,” he said knowingly. Harry smirked in response wondering who that was directed to. He would have to ask when he left. Niall pressed a hand on her lower back and pecked her cheek. “See you soon, darling.”
“Thanks for hanging out, Ni,” she grinned so cutely that it warmed Harry all over. Head to toe. She closed the lid of her washer and took her usual seat as Niall headed back to the main lobby. “Where are you?” She asked.
“Huh?”
“What page?”
“Uh...” he opened the book to the jacket cover holding his spot. “Seventeen.”
“So she’s in Munchkinland, right?” She smiled.
Harry smiled. “Feel like y’already know that, Sunshine.”
He thought she was beautiful without thinking about it much in all the time he spent with her. But somehow, the way her cheeks turned the most beautiful shade of pink...she was even more beautiful than he could ever imagine. “Well... yeah, I know but...” she looked shy. Maybe even felt a little awkward. Harry hated that. He wanted her to feel everything good. He wanted to read the book with her just to understand her even more.
“It’s sweet, don’t feel bad. M’liking it so far. Don’t know how I haven’t read it before.”
She had a book on her lap but she held her fingers around it so it was curled shut. “Read it to me,” she said.
“M’sorry?”
“Read it out loud,” she shrugged. “I already know it, so...it’s not like I missed anything,” she giggled.
Somehow, reading her favorite novel in the world probably meant way more than it should have. Definitely wasn’t something Harry should do. In fact, he should have told her about Ava right then.
“...But Dorothy, knowing her to be a witch, had expected her to disappear in just that way, and was not surprised in the least.”
Harry felt like his conscience had put up a sign on it’s office door. Out to lunch. It was funny how his mind could tell him off even when he was in control of it.
But the smile on her face made her think that he hadn't ever been in control at all. Harry agreed wholeheartedly with Dorothy. He wasn’t surprised in the very least.
--
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#harry#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#one direction#one direction writing#love and dryer sheets
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part one
The issue with Will Solace is not that he is sarcastic and flirty. In fact, Nico finds that part of it incredibly endearing. The issue is that he acts that way with everyone. He had this underlying level of charm to him, one that seemed to lay under his skin and was deemed incapable of being washed away. It was the way he could banter with practically anyone like they were an old friend, granted most of them were but still, and starting conversations never seemed to prove any form of difficulty to him.
Nico pondered this as he watched Will stroll around the infirmary, his incredibly serious clipboard in hand. It didn’t bother Nico, it’s not like he would even admit it if it did, that the healer would share grins and jokes, and those stupid winks of his. It was truly unfortunate, in Nico’s eyes, that Will had been right. On some level, he did in fact have an undeniable charm to him. You have to be blind not to notice it.
“Has anyone told you that you have a staring problem?” Will had turned back towards Nico, one hand on his hip the other dangling at his side with the clipboard.
Nico flushed, playing it off with his trademark eyeroll, “You may have mentioned this.”
“It’s rather ironic, considering that you have trouble with eye contact,” Nico could nearly hear the playful smirk on Will’s lips, he didn’t need to look up from the speck on the floor to know it was there. “Maybe it’s just that overwhelming amount of charm I have.”
“I do not. And it’s not. You’re not-” Nico huffed, the words not settling right in his throat even after they were spoken. This was just downright unfair. The son of Apollo had this unsettling habit of constantly looking at the people he was speaking to, like directly at them. It made Nico flustered very often, another thing he would never admit, the idea that Will Solace was directly perceiving him as they spoke was enough to cause his sentences to trip and fall on the way out. It wasn’t as if he was pointedly trying to avoid eye contact either, the idea of staring someone directly in the eyes, especially if they happened to be Wills eyes, while trying to converse? Downright distracting in every way.
“Oh yeah, you’re totally cooked, too far gone.” Will shifted his weight, stepping closer to Nico and oh-so-casually leaning up against whatever piece of furniture was nearest. He said a silent thank you to the gods that it wasn’t a rolling cart this time.
“What does that even mean?” Nico peeled his gaze up and pointed it directly at the other boy's eyes, fighting against the uneasy feeling in his stomach.
“You’re obviously succumbing to my dangerous levels of charisma,” Will said, his words flourished with an ever dramatic and overly poetic tone.
“You are so incredibly pathetic.” Nico did his best to lace his own words with anguish and mild amounts of disinterest, he would have liked to think he had picked up pretty good acting skills over the past few years of deception. He, in reality, was not as destined for the stage as he hoped.
“Dudes love a distressed and pitiful man, y’know”
Nico’s face flushed bright red. Did Will know? How could he have known? Nico hadn’t told him about his not-so-secret secret. I mean it was exactly a secret at this point, a lot of people knew he was gay. A lot as in, maybe five people? Still, Nico wasn’t exactly parading that information around freely to anyone who held a conversation with him. Nicos mind shifted, Will had been talking about himself, perhaps the medic was speaking out of his own interest. It wouldn’t be unlikely, I mean if Nico had it correct Kayla had two dads. Maybe it ran in the family? Nico still wasn’t entirely sure how all of it worked. Piper had tried to explain it to him after a conversation he’d had with Jason, who proved to be very supportive but truly not much help, but her own knowledge was limited and Nico had gotten too embarrassed and left. Regardless, the thought swarmed around his head at a million miles an hour, he began to wonder if he had inhaled a swarm of flying insects at some point that had just now decided to wake from hibernation. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about the possibility that Will took interest in other guys before, (out of pure, harmless curiosity, naturally.) but for some reason that statement had made it feel significantly more tangible.
“Hate to interrupt your very productive inventorying,” Kayla appeared from the back of the infirmary, Nico had almost forgotten that she had been there, “But I am incredibly bored and leaving you for archery practice.”
Will, looking to be very slightly embarrassed, glanced at the watch around his wrist and then around the room, appearing to make his mind up on if the infirmary would fall to pieces if she left. Nico didn’t think Will had a choice even if he did speak up, he had learned in the past few weeks that there really is no changing Kayla’s mind once it is set.
“Very well, I will simply have to suffer through your absence.”
“Ugh you’re so dramatic Will,”
Finally, Nico thought, someone sensible around here.
“I am just living my truth,” Will sighed, placing a hand over his heart and setting his face with feigned hardship.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kayla was mostly out the door, she turned back and shot a mischievous glance at her brother, “Try and get some actual work done will ya? And leave the poor boy alone, he’s suffered enough, he doesn’t need your ridiculous excuse of flirting to further it.”
When Nico looked over at Will he was surprised to see that they were roughly equal shades of red. That didn’t help Nico quiet the blush spreading across his face at rapid rates. Was Will actually flirting with him? There could be no way. He must act this way with everyone, there was no chance Nico could be that special.
Will cleared his throat, “Well, let’s get to work then.”
Nico gladly hopped down from his perch on the desk, grateful for any form of distraction. The infirmary was rather quiet, by some miracle. Only two beds were occupied. The summer air was warm and drifted through the room via the open windows that Will claimed would “help the healing”. It had grown to be a rather comfortable, consistent place for Nico, assuming it was overfilled and unstaffed (which was unfortunately often).
Will set him to work almost instantly, handing him a consistent stream of bandages to sort by size and file away into cabinets. They chatted as they worked, casual friendly banter that flowed naturally between them. Luckily Kayla’s comment seemed to knock a little bit of Wills obsession with being charming out of him for the moment being, Nico totally wasn’t even upset it in the slightest.
—
As their chore wore down slowly and the afternoon hot and late, Will plopped down onto and empty cot, laying back and letting his eyes shut. “Thank you again for the help, Neeks.”
“Yeah, anytime.” Nico replied, following Wills lead and falling on the cot beside him.
The two sat, a moment of shared silence between them. Will scootched closer to Nico, their legs brushing together as they hung off the edge of the mattress. Nico could feel Wills gaze burning into his cheek and reluctantly turned to meet his eyes.
“Hi,” Will said, his voice no more than a whisper.
“Hi,” Nico replied, “Why are you whispering?”
“Because.”
“That’s very specific and helpful.”
“You’re welcome,” Will eyes seemed to be tracing every detail of Nico’s face, his lips tugging into the softest most relaxed smile Nico had ever seen. Will readjusted his head, shifting it closer to Nico’s, their faces just inches apart, Nico could almost feel his breath if he focused hard enough.
Despite every instinct in his body screaming at him to look away, Nico held his gaze on the boy next to him. He found it more and more difficult to get a sufficient amount of air into his lungs or feel anything other than the electricity coursing through his veins and the overwhelming thumping of his heart in every major arteries.
“We’re really close,” Nico blurted out, still uselessly whispering.
“Yeah,” Will held for a beat, looking intently at Nico, “I got lonely,”
“You’re laying next to me,”
“And I still feel too far away.”
Nico’s stomach tensed, his throat tightened, palms sweat, breathing more uneven and shallow than before. This couldn’t be happening right now, every muscle in his body felt as if it was set on fire by the sun itself. In this case, the son of the sun.
Nico could not muster another response, just kept his eyes locked with Wills.
“Is it working?” Will asked finally, in a breathy whisper that made Nico want to make decisions that could ruin his entire life.
Nico blinked, “What?”
“My charm. Is it working yet?”
Nico shot up, groaning, “Shut up, Solace, actually fuck you,”
“Is that an offer?”
“~NO!”
part three
#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#percy jackson#solangelo fic#solangelo#nico di angelo#i actually didn’t proof read this#again#this might be on the longer side apparently#i’m playing into the pining but still in denial nico pov with this one#they just need to kiss already#will solace is a flirt#nico is easily flustered
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Here I will explain why my blog banner describes me as an anti sugar activist. I try to be as "scientific" as my brain and heart allow, but I value my experience over scientific studies even if they support my view, huge ridiculous autist sugar post incoming
Sugar is highly addictive for most people. The problem is way more dire than we act like it is. Added to foods you wouldn't even think to include sugar. The link between sugar and obesity, endocrine disruption, general inflammation and malaise, disease, diabetes, your teeth rotting out, and even cancer, is undeniable no matter what articles or studies you try to dig up. not many people want to admit how bad it is. People who enjoy sugar, who might say "you only live once! It's not like I'm shooting heroin" suffer weird problems and assume it's something else. Children set up for a lifetime of failure because their parents don't pay attention to their sugar intake at all. I have a very drastic example of this I won't go into much detail about, but a set of parents close to me are feeding their daughter extreme amounts of sugar. She has a learning disability and is a very intense child. I've hinted at the sugar link and everyone is in denial.
I have baby sat this child and gotten her to eat organic wheat bread PB and J with a no sugar added, all fruit jam.. happily told her parents who did not care at all. It was such a feat to me. Everyone knows a picky child. It's worse than you think. This is a gateway drug and I'm totally serious. I said I would not go into great detail... I too was raised on welch's fruit snacks, "pancake syrup", sprite, Kool aid, and worst of all I was allowed to put as much sugar that I wanted into my tea. My parents were wonderful, they just didn't think or know how bad it was to do this
I've struggled with a sugar addiction before and since getting clean from drugs and seen the effects of it firsthand. The most obvious to be seen from the outside that I can make people believe is my struggle with acne. We know bacteria feeds off of sugar. This is why people who drink sugary drinks are at risk for UTIs. If bacteria enters their bladder, sugar makes it grow. Well no amount of washing my face, bentonite clay masks, washing my pillow cases, wearing a bonnet, would make the acne go away. Recently I tried to only eat a certain pint of ice cream thinking less sugar would help. It didn't and I'm over two weeks off of all sugar that isn't naturally occuring in honey and fruit. Crazy how natural sugar does not feed the bacteria and hormonal disruption. I've been in this cycle more than once. Not only does the acne go away, my face appears radiant every time. Breakouts as soon as I relapse. Maybe you are thinking, this is a bunch of hogwash and I eat little cakes often without a problem. That's fine. I know addicts who have used meth for 30 years and you wouldnt wonder much about them. Smokers who lived to 80. Sugar doesn't do me any good at all.
Neither my mom, who was just put on a medication with awful side effects because she is developing diabetes. Her doctor (doctor she's had for decades who is a total piece of garbage and prescribes dangerous cocktails of conflicting medications !! That's a whole other post!!!! Put my grandma on pills which nearly killed her! Plus other people HAHAHA) saw her coming up with high blood pressure, blood sugar, and cholesterol without thinking to suggest a diet change first. My mom is overweight and likes to eat sweets. My mom told me, I can still eat sweets, I just have to eat less. I did tell her that didn't work for me. I quit because I don't want to end up sick this way. Diabetes runs in our family. The prescription is making my mom nauseous and dizzy. Insane to me right?
Why aren't the dangers of sugar recognized? Why am I the only advocate I know? I would shut the fuck up if the dangers were believed by more people. Is it Because Sugar Taste good? Not seen as a vice. We accept that corn syrup is not so good. Canola oil pretty bad. Dyes in food causing children to develop ADHD and autism, or whatever. Is there no risk in consuming sugar? Many health professionals don't want to admit it? I feel strongly. I feel sick when I eat sugar but I can't find myself able to stop unless I truly try. We are all convinced that it's just a danger to your teeth if you don't brush enough. MIL is a sugar addict who buys birthday cakes on clearance and clears the whole cake in a few days, a twice daily flosser and brusher, who has lost over half of her teeth to extractions, sees the link, and has no intention to quit.
Finally, I bake yummy dessert recipes excluding half the sugar while using honey, maple syrup, brown sugar for what is left (which is slightly better than white sugar from my understanding) and I have never made a baked good that is ruined by doing this. You can't even tell that I've excluded sugar and the foods have more flavor because sugar doesn't overpower the dish. They don't make your teeth hurt. You can eat more cookies because there is less sugar and they taste better. The texture is the same. Bakers will tell you this isn't true and you need to use the whole amount of sugar so the cookies and cakes arent ruined. Yes, you need torched sugar on creme brulee. Fine.
Do you ever find yourself scraping icing off of a cake? I have baked more than one birthday cake for loved ones excluding sugar and adding natural alternatives (NOT stevia or monkfruit which taste like shit and suck) and ive gotten nothing but compliments. My brown sugar maple cake with cream cheese icing using very little sugar was a hit for my partners birthday that everyone probably ate too much of. This isn't a brag, it's an idea for anyone who bakes to try and change your recipes. It hasn't failed for me. Ok SOrry
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Luz achieved everything without having to lose anything.
There is two things that marked the conclusion of Luz's journey and resulted in contradicting much of what was established about her: the absence of sacrifice and when a conflict occurs it ends up being quickly resolved.
Since the first season, an expectation was given that Luz was not a character who was based on the archetype of 'The Chosen One', that the problems she would have to face could not be magically solved through conveniences and works of destiny - reflected in her personality in the first season, being naive about the reality of circumstances, basing life occurrences on the trajectory of a fictional plot, emphasized from the belief that 'magic comes from the heart' -, which gave her an eventual conflict that differs the protagonists who evolve with the protagonists who only arrive at the end of the story: the need to lose in order to win.
While the events of the first season were dedicated to establishing Luz's place in the Boiling Islands, the relationships she was introduced to, and her new discoveries, the second season, in theory, was supposed to present the difficulties and conflicts that Luz would have to face after having obtained so many additions to her life that required her to fight to keep it. Then came 'Yesterday's Lie', addressing the potential biggest conflict that the Luz would have to deal with: having to choose to remain in the Human Realm with her mother and give up all of her friends and loved ones in the Demon Realm.
Luz was immediately exposed to the realization that there would not be a solution to all problems, that choices must be made and giving up what has been conquered to remain firm and could immediately put her on a level of undeniable maturity, having to deal with a psychological pressure that could only have its outcome achieved through attitudes with unpleasant consequences, however necessary. There were problems, there was a need to face them, and that made her human, including making her very much identified with the viewer when addressing the conflict of the need to make choices that would please some and hurt others. But then came the biggest and most serious decline in Luz's character development: the third season.
Up to that point in the show, Luz had not had to deal directly with the need to face conflicts and seek appropriate solutions; they were just released as an accumulation of problems and left in the expectation of receiving outcomes. Questions, not answers.
Then the conveniences and facilitations emerged: having to deal with choosing to stay with her mother or staying in the Boiling Isles? Don't worry, because Camila watched Luz's outburst video and changed her fear of not having her around (even though it was fueled by the literal loss of her husband, which would hardly make anyone capable of dealing with another family 'loss');
not knowing how to confess very serious secrets and keep them hidden from her friends? Don't worry, when they find out everyone is simultaneously united in forgiving her and understanding her attitudes, a problem solved; the fear of ending up no longer having the confidence of her friends and loved ones? Don't worry, everyone continues to support Luz, regardless of any circumstances.
There was no discussion, disagreement or simply demanding an explanation from Luz, instead everything was resolved with mutual and almost immediate understanding and the consensus that she was overloaded.
So, with 'For the Future' it was already established that the plot unfolded in order to benefit Luz on her journey towards a still slightly uncertain conclusion. The true nature of the problem came with 'Watching and Dreaming', precisely in Luz's death and how the whole development took her to a point that marks the absence of challenges to be faced by any protagonist: Deus ex machina.
From that point on, nothing could stop Luz: she was given enough power to eliminate the greatest threat through an entity conveniently present at the right time, she managed to eliminate the problem with all her friends and loved ones being fine at the end and ready to restore the Boiling Isles.
In the end, all the fears and uncertainties that Luz had turned out to be entirely unnecessary given the fact that she achieved everything without having to face any consequences. Without the rest of the Titan, would there be no way for her to do magic anymore? In the literal last few minutes it showed that it would no longer be a problem thanks to yet another new solution; choose where to stay? Now she has free access to both the Human Realm and the Boiling Isles whenever she wants; all friends, family and girlfriend are with her, in oneness with each other and loving her unconditionally.
The Owl House ended, and Luz remained the same protagonist full of life, with the desire to learn about all the magic at the same time and managing to live her life both normally and being in her dreamed world of fantasy.
The biggest problem with all this decline is the fact that Luz is no longer an identifiable character with the conflicts she should face.
Her trajectory was marked by a growing accumulation of difficulties and challenges to be faced, but they ended up being solved in favor of not giving her a conclusion that demonstrates that she has matured and learned lessons with her choices. Losses were not necessary, giving up achievements was not addressed and it was not even considered not having a life exactly as she would like, however it was necessary in the face of the circumstances that would move her to learn to live and remain firm.
Emphasizing that happy endings are equally worthy, however the case of Luz and especially of The Owl House ended up being a conclusion whose challenges did not truly make it deserved to obtain a completely happy ending and devoid of choices that would significantly affect the conclusion of the story in a way to have consequences.
#the owl house#toh#toh critical#toh salt#luz noceda#mary sue#watching and dreaming#toh spoilers#anti dni#antis please dni#antis dni
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It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)
Chapter 4: It's true, I was made for you
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Words: 1234 (wow)
Layla and I were on a mission. Well more Layla was on a mission and I was stuck coming with her. She was insistent that I needed new clothes, because I had worn out a lot of my current wardrobe. We had left the apartment with me begging Marc to send Jake to save me, and he laughed, saying something about it being “For my own good” or something. And now I was in being dragged through a shopping mall being dragged into clothing stores I knew I couldn’t afford, but Layla and Marc had insisted. I was trying on some clothes that Layla wanted me to try.
“Hey Hun? I think I’m having… zipper problems in here” I call out as I try to reach over my shoulder to zip the dress up but I couldn’t reach. I hear the rustle of the dressing room curtain, and the familiar scent of Egyptian Musk enters my space as she takes the zipper and slowly pulls it up looking at me in the mirror with a smile.
“There. How’s that? Good fit?” Layla asks softly before resting her face in the crook of my neck leaving a gentle kiss. “You look stunning…” She says softly running her hands down my sides.
“Yeah, I like it…” I reply holding her hands at my hips. A smile on my lips as I think about when we went on our “trial date”
~
It felt a little silly going on a date with Layla seeing as we had known each other since we we’re little kids. Spent our school days together, both of our families were always on the move. Her father and my mother were archeologists, working on the same digs while the two of us were constantly exploring the ruins. It wasn’t until my father decided I needed to go to boarding school for the rest of my education that I was separated from my best friend and first love, Layla El-Faouly. We were constantly writing, and eventually calls and texts though our young adulthood, never truly loosing contact. She was there for me when my first serious relationship fell apart, one of them cheated on us and the other didn’t want to continue the relationship after it happened. I felt alone. I had called Layla and at the time her relationship with Marc had gone sour, unsigned divorce papers showing up at her door, Layla then disappeared for a short time, but by the next time we talked she and Marc were working things out. Later I would find out things were Steven and Jake along with their marriage.
But now I was walking with her hand in mine in the park as she carries a picnic basket, it feels like we haven’t been apart a single day. I looked over at her as she gave me a smile.
“Like when we were kids right? Picnic lunches with our parents?” She says with a loving look in her eyes
“Are you going to seduce me with nostalgia?” I laugh, she laughs with me.
“Maybe…Is it working?” She smiles at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, the way her curls bounced as she moves, the twinkle in her eye like there was always adventure in front of her, even in the most domestic parts of life. I squeezed her hand tight as I smile at her. She’s always been beautiful. She’s always been the girl of my dreams.
When we get to the spot she was looking for I helped her spread out a Blanket. We sat down together and she started to pull out snacks and wine from the basket, she hands me a glass. After a few sips and some light conversation she turns to me with that jaw dropping smile on her face.
“So…Marc told me you were already going to say yes when you went on his date, are you still on that track?” She asks with a playful tone “Or did Steven’s immense knowledge of everything scare you off?” I laugh
“No, I’m saying yes, I will be your third. I’m actually really excited to start this. I mean, I can’t help but find all of you attractive for lots of reasons.” I take another sip of my wine.
“Oh yeah? I’m curious now…What are your reasons?” She asks with a smile
“Of course, we can’t just have a nice time, you gotta pick my brain.” I sigh giving her a playful look. “Alright…Well Jake, he was a gentleman the whole time, very well dressed, lots of complements, and He took me to do one of my favorite things, not a lot of guys take you dancing on the first date. Marc, I mean you’re the one who married him do I really have to go over it all? Handsome, the dry and dark sense of humor, the way he doesn’t go on about things and is always listening. He’s really just a good guy you know? Steven, well He’s just adorable, he’s like a brand new puppy everything in the whole world is amazing to him, I felt like I could do no wrong with him, he was so attentive and he’s really smart but not at all in your face about it, and he’s funny, so funny.”
I looked at Layla and I felt speechless for a moment the way she was looking at me. That look in her eyes I knew so well. “And then…there’s you. My best friend since we were so little, the first woman I fell in love with, the person who was always by my side, everyday no matter what continent we were on, different time zones, different languages…you’ve been there for me. Always.” I look at her with love and adoration and she does something I don’t expect. She leans in and she kisses me. Her soft lips touch mine and I feel like I’m seeing in color for the first time. Everything about that moment was everything I waited a life time for.
~
We walk back into the apartment with several shopping bags of clothes and Chinese take out for dinner. When we walk in we find Jake is fronting, not a usual occurrence. He looks concerned, he’s half way through getting ready to leave when we come in.
“Jake…What’s going on?” I ask as I set the bags down walking over to him
“Hermosa…It’s not good. There’s trouble.” He takes my hands in his gloved ones. Layla hangs back watching the interaction with worry. “I’ll be gone a few days…I can’t say more the less you know the better.” He takes my chin in his hand and looks into my eyes. “Volveré pronto mi amor...lo prometo.” He whispers before kissing me gently. This wasn’t a normal good bye kiss, this was an ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen and I need to feel you one last time’ kiss. In that second I was terrified.
“Te amo Jake…” I said as he pulls away from the kiss. He hums and presses his forehead to mine, taking just a moment, before he pulls away and heads for the door. Before he leaves he takes Layla’s hand for a second and they share a knowing look. After which he leaves. Layla walks over to me and holds me close, touching her nose to mine as we both silently worry.
~
Translations:
Volveré pronto mi amor...lo prometo.: I will be back soon my love...I promise.
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#moon knight#marc spector#x reader#jake lockley#layla el faouly x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockley x reader#moonknight x reader#fluff#steven grant x reader#polyamory#poly representation#moon knight system#moon boys#layla el faouly#Spotify#steven grant
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Le Docteur Marat #02: Marat's clientele
Salut, citoyens! In the last issue of Le Docteur Marat, I spoke briefly about an important question that is often discussed when it comes to Marat's medical training. Today, I will talk about his clientele, as well as some anecdotes and medical experiences that Marat went through and which he recorded in correspondence and in some of his works.
First of all, I'd like to make it clear that I'm not fluent in English or French, so some of my translations may be subject to errors!
To find out who the clients of the then future Friend of the People were, we first need to understand his main specializations in the field of medicine. Apparently, according to Marat's own account in his Essay on gleets (1775), the first cure he must have performed on a patient was the effective treatment of a case of gleets, a painful and embarrassing manifestation of gonorrheal disease in a close friend of his, in 1769.
However, this may not have been Marat's first cure in life. An account by Joseph Farington, an English painter and member of the Royal Academy in London, for example, mentions that Marat "cured Bonomi, the architect, of serious problems two or three times". The time to which these accounts by Farington refer dates from 1775, although the accounts in question were made in 1793; they are therefore not 100% reliable, but there is no reason to doubt that Marat cured other people who were in his social circle at the time. It should be noted that in 1775, when he wrote the Essay on gleets, he was apparently in London, where he had gained influence and a certain popularity for his medical skills. The book's dedication indicates Church Street, Soho, where Marat may have lived at the time.
Furthermore, we know that Marat most likely began studying medicine when he was still quite young. Unfortunately, in the two medical essays he published in 1775-1776, he cites almost no dates that could provide us with exact information about the first definitive cure he performed on a patient.
On the other hand, these two works allow us to know, if Marat is to be believed, a little about his clientele at the time. He apparently had a reasonable clientele in 1770, and claims in his medical publications to have been the role of last resort for many patients. His patients were often "celebrated artists", travelers and people who could go to the best doctors before turning to him. What's more, Marat makes it clear that many of his patients are also his friends. Whether or not this was a personal advertising strategy, it shows that Marat did indeed have a well-heeled clientele. As I mentioned in an earlier post, there is no reason to doubt the veracity of the cures he reported. The fact that none of the patients mentioned challenged him, that he lived at a relatively chic address in London and that he gained support and influence from his friends at the time - most of whom, it seems, were in fact artists - confirm that we can believe Marat.
These publications also reveal Marat's main medical specialties. It is undeniable that he was a great connoisseur of venereal diseases, judging by the entire content of the Essay on gleets. Another work, entitled An enquiry into the Nature, Cause, and Cure of Singular Disease of the Eyes, Hitherto Unknown, and yet Common, Produced by the Use of Certain Mercurial Preparations (1776), contains information about the cures Marat performed on patients with vision problems. Both works show that Marat had an excellent knowledge of physiology and that it was probably around this time that he carried out his first cures with the help of electrification.
It is possible that, according to the Enquiry, the first patient Marat cured of an eye disease was an eleven-year-old girl called Charlotte Blondel. Marat comments on this case on p. 34 of Reprint of Two Tracks:
To cure her, in order to check that Charlotte was progressing, Marat used a technique where he framed a scale, on which he marked the closest distance she could tell the time by means of a clock. The distance was twenty-eight inches. The treatment seems to have taken a long time, and at times Marat used electrification as a kind of stimulant for the eyes. At first, Charlotte's parents didn't accept Marat's use of electrification as part of the treatment, and he had to leave the case. Ten days later, however, he was called back and the cure was successful.
On Marat's interest in and methods of treating eye diseases, Clifford D. Conner, author of Jean-Paul Marat: Tribune of The French Revolution, comments as follows:
"Marat’s work on diseases of the eye, which grew out of and stimulated an interest in optics, was one of the paths that led him from medical practice to experimental physics. A recent study concludes that “for Marat ophthalmology had already become the combination of physiological optics, medicine, and ocular surgery that today still represents the three aspects of the specialty.” Marat’s “principal merit,” according to this study, was his opposition to the widespread use of mercury in treating eye problems. Marat’s “refusal to use this toxic substance” represented “good sense” on his part; the prestigious doctors of the Faculty of Medicine, by comparison, “did not play a very good role” in the controversy over this issue."
The study Conner is referring to in the text above can be found on p. 116 of Marat: homme de science? (1993) by Dr. Jean-François Lemaire. I don't have access to this book yet, but as soon as I have it, I intend to share any interesting content!
A few months after the publication of the Essay on gleets, Marat received his M.D degree from Andrews University in Scotland. The diploma was probably obtained, apart from other reasons, through recommendation, which is vital if we are to conclude that, during this "first moment" of Marat's medical career, where he was based in London, his clientele consisted mainly of his own friends or patients who were known to his friends, who turned to Marat on recommendation.
Marat's clientele changed considerably around 1776-1778, when he settled back in Paris. If previously his patients had been relatively well-off people, now his list would also include important and well-placed people, as Marat's reputation as a doctor grew rapidly. This was for a number of reasons, but mainly because of a specific cure performed by Marat on the influential marquise de L'Aubespine, who suffered from a kind of respiratory disease that many doctors said was impossible to cure. The case generated a certain amount of controversy when it was later published in the Gazette de Santé. A friend of Marat's at the time, l'abbé Filassier, was responsible for allowing Marat to comment on his medical procedures towards the marquise in the Gazette. Docteur Augustin Cabanés talks about this on p. 106 of Marat inconnu (1891):
"A disciple and coach of Marat, a botanist and chemist of questionable merit, but a physicist of undeniable merit, took up his pen to announce his master's triumph to the medical world. Under the signature of Abbé Fillassier, "member of several academies", the Gezette de Santé inserted a sort of invitation to Marat, urging him to make his own discovery. The abbot's exordium was very clever."
And then the text in question, written by Filassier for the Gazette:
"Five years earlier, the Marquise de L'Aubespine had been stricken with a lung disease which, as it worsened over time, was definitively considered incurable. Abandoned by all the doctors, the patient was on the verge of succumbing, when the intervention of one last doctor brought her back to health within a few weeks. Filled with gratitude for the doctor who brought her back from so far away, it is on his orders that I have the honor of writing to you, and she joins her pleas with mine to urge you, gentlemen, to spread the word about this amazing cure."
This is an excerpt from a letter, also written by Marat to the Gazette, in which he describes his healing techniques used in the Marquise's case:
"When Madame de L'Aubespine came to me, her cough was convulsive, continuous and accompanied by burning and tearing in her chest. To dissipate the inflammation, I used an emulsion of sweet almonds with nitro salt, as the patient's extreme weakness meant that bloodletting was not an option. After the inflammation subsided, which was fairly quickly, I examined the sputum, which I found to be very purulent. Stirred in water, the pus separated and rushed to the bottom of the vessel; as for the mucus that emerged, it was extremely viscous.
The lacerations of the chest were no longer felt, but the oppression was still excessive; I therefore thought that it was only the viscosity of the mucus, of which the lung was full, and I indicated to the patient the use of an artificial mineral water, from the acidulated waters of Harrowgate. The effect corresponded to what I had expected; soon the expectoration became easy, the cough subsided and the fever disappeared.
I continued to use this water for some time and purged the patient several times with polycrest salt. As a result, the lymph became more fluid, all the congested organs were cleared and regular flow was restored.
I replaced the mineral water with an infusion of Florence fennel. I added the internal use of quinquina extract, and the balsamic fumigations: first the yarrow, then the St. John's wort (millepertuis), then the melissa, and finally the Tolu balsam.
The expectoration was no longer considerable; it stopped being purulent, and the strength soon returned.
Finally, I prescribed the patient (every morning on an empty stomach) fifty drops of essence of ambergris in a glass of cow's milk; this was enough to complete the cure; the cough, the oppression and the expectoration ceased, and the patient regained her appearance, her freshness, her cheerfulness. Today, Madame de L'Aubespine's health is so good that she doesn't even need a diet."
Considering that at this time Marat had been employed as a doctor in the body of guards of Monsieur le Comte d'Artois - which he most likely achieved through the intermediary or at the very least the influence of the Marquise de L'Aubespine (niece of the Duke of Choiseul), who must have introduced Marat to these kinds of high circles - it is undeniable that he was right in the middle of the elite of Parisian medicine and could make a very comfortable living from his specialty. Apparently, he had quite a large clientele too.
However, his aristocratic clients weren't always happy with Docteur Marat's bill, as he was well aware of the type of clientele he had and therefore didn't hesitate to charge a relatively high price for his consultations. Two cases are known in which Marat's clients were dissatisfied: the first, much less serious or violent than the second, is highlighted in a letter written by the brother of the husband of one of his patients.
A lawyer living in Lyon, M. Roubaud, wrote to his brother, a medical student in Paris, to go to Dr. Marat, to get a consultation from him on the subject of his wife's illness. Marat then promptly writes a letter with a series of questions aimed at finding out about the patient's condition. This medical proscription was mentioned and attached in the last post, but since I managed to find it in better quality, I'll leave it here too:
Marat also makes some recommendations to ease the patient's suffering. The letter was published under the title of Marat médecin: une consultation inédite du docteur Marat, in Journal de Médecine de Paris, Dax frères & Thiron, Clermont, oct-nov 1907. It can also be found on pg. 130-131 of Marat inconnu.
However, Roubaud doesn't seem to have been very satisfied with the price of the consultation, and wrote the following in the postscript of a letter in reply to his brother:
"Mr. Marat seems a bit expensive to me; you pay twenty-four pounds for his consultations, and the little blotter I sent you cost me twelve."
But this is far from a serious case. The second person to clearly show his dissatisfaction was the Count of Zabielo. At the end of December 1777, Marat paid a visit to Madame Courtin, a patient who was being treated for a chest illness. When he arrived, he met the Count of Zabielo, a friend of Madame Courtin's, who made him go into a neighboring room where two men and a woman were already. Together, they began to strongly reprimand the doctor and cover him with violent blows. Marat's servant at the time, Nicolas Dumoulin, was with Marat when this happened, and was also beaten. The two managed to escape under the threats of the Count of Zabielo, who had promised to spread the word that Marat "killed his patients".
That same evening, Marat and Dumoulin opened a court case against Zabielo and his other attackers at the Châtelet. The process was coordinated mainly by Moreau, the king's prosecutor, and the commissioner Thiot.
Here is the certificate from the doctors who went to assess the abrasions suffered by Marat, with supporting documents and information. This document can be found in the Archives Nationales, Y/9864 and Y/13796. Other information about the case is told in more detail on pg. 500-510 of Marat inconnu:
Despite all this, it is quite wrong to assume that Marat was the only doctor who charged a lot for his services, or that he was the doctor who charged the most. Dr. Paul Delaunay, in his Le Monde médical Parisien au dix-huitième siècle (1906), for example, reports that other doctors with aristocratic clientele in the Ancien Régime, such as Dr. Antoine Portal, charged around twelve francs per visit and forty-eight francs per consultation.
One of Marat's most notorious and esteemed clients was undoubtedly Romé de l'Isle, a crystallographer. The two apparently met through one of Marat's close friends, Philippe Rouse Roume de Saint-Laurent, with whom he corresponded. Marat cured Romé of an eye disease in 1783 by means of electrification and, from then on, the two may have become good friends. In this letter that Marat wrote to Roume de Saint-Laurent on September 26, 1783 [pg.221], he tells his friend about his meeting with Romé:
"I shall have the happiness before my departure, my dear friend, of having restored sight by means of electricity to M. Romé de l'Isle, who had lost it 33 years ago, and the pleasure of having restored to society a man of talent. Your brother-in-law was threatened with an attack of paralysis, his tongue was already embarrassed, when I saw him at Madame de Saint-Laurent's, I urged him to come and see me, I only electrified him five or six times: and he is doing well."
Later, Romé proved to be a great supporter and respecter of Marat's academic and scientific work. In 1786, for example, he agreed to act as an intermediary between Marat and the Berlin Academy, apparently in a letter dated May 6 [p. 91]. In 1788, Romé also showed support for Marat's physical observations. The admiration is mutual, as Marat cites Romé as a "distinguished scholar" in the last letter of his Charlatans modernes (1791). I can't attach any more images to this post, but the excerpt where Marat quotes Romé is on p. 225:
"Where do you think they got this magnificent system from? They took it word for word from the treatise on weights and measures of the Ancients, published by Romé de Lisle, a distinguished sage, whose name they were zealous to silence, in order to plunder it with impunity after his death, after having persecuted him all his life."
From all this, it is possible to conclude that Doctor Marat's clientele was, at least for a good period of his life, essentially made up of wealthy and noble people, despite the fact that Marat himself was never really considered a nobleman. It is certainly ironic that, during the revolution, these people were constantly attacked by Marat (the Count d'Artois, for example). Despite the dissatisfaction of some of his clients about the prices he charged for consultations and the virulence of his opponents who tried to boycott his medical career, Marat undoubtedly shows himself to be a very competent clinician and a born observer. In the pre-revolutionary era, he often signed his letters with 'Le Docteur Marat', which changed after the revolution and especially after the founding of L'Ami du Peuple. However, even so, Dr. Marat did not cease to exist from 1789 onwards: sometimes Marat would sign his letters referring to himself as 'docteur en médecine', or also as 'Marat, docteur en médecine et l'ami du peuple'. In the future, I plan to write a post attaching some of the letters he signed like this.
That's how I end this post. Let me know if you have any questions about the sources used, and please feel free to send me an ask! :)
Vitam impendere vero.
* First of all, I beg your pardon if any information about the medical procedures is poorly explained or represented in the translations. I'm not a medical expert - I'm just completely fascinated by Marat's medicine, but I'm a long way from understanding anything about this area of knowledge.
* I've taken a lot of inspiration from the biographies of Olivier Coquard and Docteur Cabanés to write this post, and so I'm being careful to design them the credits for most of the things I've written and the information I've used! :)
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i made a post about this the other day so kinda reiterating the point but
the Cat isn’t nearly as in control or even as knowledgeable as they like to pretend they are
i pointed out in the other post how their serious villain monologue got interrupted (with them breaking character as a result) by Little biting them, and their bold, ominous claim that Neo’s body ‘will do’ as a ‘much better solution’ to their problem is like
immediately undercut by them getting to the Tree and being completely unable to get through - they’re impatient, impulsive and, honestly, kinda stupid (because being knowledgeable isn’t the same thing as being intelligent; they’re meant to collect information, not use it). their manipulations only worked because the only Remnant people who interacted with them were either a) children or b) grew up with an expectation on what they were like and so weren’t expecting it. and instead of considering that maybe they’re the problem, maybe something is keeping them specifically from going through the door, they decide it’s a problem with Neo, blaming her and blaming Alyx for not getting them to Remnant - it can’t be their fault because then it means everything they’ve done has been a waste of time reaching for an impossible goal (oh thematic echoing)
they might thematically parallel Salem, but they’re not nearly as much of a threat for a number of reasons, and their lack of patience and the fact that they’re not above indignity are big factors in that
they’re not as impressive as they’re trying to make themselves out to be, taking Neo as a host has honestly rendered them both far less formidable than either had been before and while undeniably monstrous, the most they’ve actually achieved so far is murdering a ten year old, hijacking the body of someone who was already catatonic thanks to her own actions and performing a super basic bait and switch to take out one of their opponents (by using a tactic they’d seen Neo do earlier, because they can’t even be original)
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I'd like Russingon so much more if people weren't annoying about it. Like, it's genuinely interesting as an epic friendship chivalric bond type relationship, and I like both characters, the dynamic between them and how it affects the text, but, to me that's so much more interesting than 'oh, of course we were secretly married the whole time, undeniable canon ship', like, it's so irritating and it lacks depth and also? They're not canon. I completely understand people who do want a major queer relationship, but. It's not canon. If anything, the relationship Tolkein maybe consciously wrote as intentionally homoerotic is Turin and Beleg. And at this point I'd genuinely be more interested in something that approaches Maedhros as Fingon as having a platonic relationship based around the chivalric narratives I'm pretty sure Tolkein was inspired by. And I hate the take that if you don't ship russingon you're automatically homophobic.
Also I'm so agreed on the Eol thing, like, yeah, that story has some pretty hideous racist subtext and I get people wanting to change it but idk why they always do it by a) making Aredhel 100% in love and happy with a man who refused to let her leave his house and who later killed her by trying to kill their son OR b) slutshames and villanises Aredhel, usually by portraying her as an abuser (sometimes having the gall to call it feminist and empowering like. If you think a woman being a rapist us empowering you need serious help) And I'm also not sure why she gets called the slutty cousin when one of the first things we know about her is 'she gave her hearts love to none', and when she did get married she was at least partially coerced into it? Like, aside from how horrible slut shaming random female characters is, Aredhel seems like the least likely candidate? She and Celegorm are always so mischaracterised, one thing I really hate about fandom is how it seems to have this set of archetypes it shoves characters into even if that's not how they are in text, to make them more palleatable and understandable I guess? Like, Celegorm was probably a bit on the wild side, but we know he's a linguist and an orator and a skilled commander who actually seems to have taken the initiative in the Nargothrond coup, like? He's always made into a dumb jock and Curufin's always so bitter and bitchy and neither of those seem particularly accurate to how they are in canon? (Also have to agree on the Celegorm/Curufin side, I've read some good fic)
I think one of the biggest problems in the Silm fandom is a) people whitewashing their faves and picking sides in a way that seems really unconscious of how the text emphasises that this is about complex people with incompatible goals and b) people always wanting their ships to be canon to the extent that they end up putting them as the focus of the story, and twisting the text to try and validate them which like? I like a fun ship as much as the next person, but something's aren't canon and that's literally fine? Like, I'm really into Melkor and Sauron as characters, and I do really enjoy Angbang as a ship, but the amount of people who claim they were 'literally married' when we don't have any textual indication for their relationship other than one-sided fanatical devotion on Sauron's part and a level of trust and respect on Morgoth's, is seriously annoying.
Sorry I've been ranting please feel free to ignore this
sorry for taking so long to respond, work was crazy today! but i completely agree with a lot of this, thanks for sharing!!
i think the question of whether or not there’s a “canon queer ship” in the silm is dubious for a bunch of reasons, but i totally agree, if anything it’s turleg! it just doesn’t make sense for tolkien to have explicitly condemned cousin marriages between elves but also to have intended russingon to be read romantically. of course, you don’t have to stick to tolkien’s intent in your hcs LOL- that’s why fanon exists- but his intent does shape what is canon and what isn’t, and he was writing and living in a different time. which is why the argument that anyone who doesn’t ship russingon is homophobic annoys me lol. and even if russingon WAS canon, it wouldn’t be homophobic not to ship it, that’s not how that works lol.
AGREED re: aredhel and eol! i am really not a fan of any analysis of them that somehow tries to spin it around so aredhel was the abusive one. of course, to each their own, but i don’t personally see anything progressive about that and also don’t feel it’s a compelling read of canon. the thing that i think some people don’t get about aredhel is that she can be the victim in an abusive relationship AND a strong woman and an important character beyond that abuse. those things can coexist, and they do. aredhel was groundbreaking! she (and galadriel, i think?) were the only women who survived the helcaraxe! aredhel was the only woman involved at alqualonde! she’s the only female hunter in tolkien’s works! she’s so much more than just some vessel for birthing maeglin and then dying, ugh. even though she didn’t survive the horrible situation she was put in with eol, doesn’t mean she was weak or irrelevant and also doesn’t mean that the only “progressive” interpretation of her needs to be that she was in the wrong somehow.
re: the idea that celegorm is dumb… YES! people forget that he’s canonically a great public speaker, and i think he might’ve had the best “people skills” out of his brothers- remember, he singlehandedly stirred everyone up for the second kinslaying (for better or for worse lol). and he knew more about the forest and about animals and nature than pretty much anyone else due to his training with orome, and the fact that he could understand/maybe speak to animals shows he had linguistic skills that went WAY beyond most other elves.
and curufin… one curufin moment that the fandom seems to collectively ignore, but that i LOVE and that seems really at odds with his characterization as a cunning scheming bitch, is the moment where he runs into eol in pursuit of aredhel and confronts him, telling him off for having forced her into marriage and basically telling him to get the heck out of himlad. he clearly cared a lot about his cousin! he clearly does have morals LOL!
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Open Heart | 1800s AU
Ethan Ramsey x Lilac Allende (MC)
He breaks all the rules to teach her medicine in an era when women were not allowed to be doctors.
She Walks In Beauty | A Red, Red Rose | How Do I Love Thee
From A Red, Red Rose
The arrangement had been a mistake.
This is what Ethan concluded one month after the start of her apprenticeship. It had nothing to do with her lack of intelligence or motivation. On the contrary, Miss Allende proved to be far cleverer and passionate than anyone he had ever worked with in the field of medicine.
No, the problem was that she was entirely too distracting.
Her green eyes narrowed as she studied the vial of dark liquid. “Small doses can alleviate pain in most patients,” she muttered to herself thoughtfully, repeating his previous words.
“Always be careful not to confuse it with this one,” he said, adopting the same severe tone he found effective when teaching. He raised a second vial with a seemingly identical liquid to the one she held. “Otherwise, you will kill the patient.”
“Which will also effectively cease the pain,” she returned without hesitation. Her tone was entirely dry, in a way that would rival even his. He could tell she was joking when her eyes moved away from the liquid to meet his, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth.
Ethan pressed his own mouth into a tight line, a poor attempt to disguise his amusement. “Be serious,” he admonished.
The words elicited a radiant smile from her, as pure as the sunshine spilling through the tall windows of his study. It was not his intent to prolong her amusement, quite the opposite, in fact. Yet, Ethan felt a tug in his stomach at the sight.
He stared at her a beat too long, taking in the lovely sight of bright eyes and rosy cheeks.
It was seconds before he remembered himself.
“This is important,” he said sternly. “You must know the difference with unmatched precision, Miss Allende.”
She schooled her features, though a hint of mirth still shimmered in her expression.
“The difference between the two,” she started with ease, “is that the leprosy medication carries small flecks of powder that never quite dissolve.”
Ethan raised his brows, impressed.
“They are also noticeably different in viscosity,” she concluded confidently.
Ms. Allende moved to stand close to him, holding up the vial in her grasp parallel to the one in his. Her observations were undeniable in the rays of the sun.
Ethan studied her briefly, her beautiful face relaxed in contentment. It was an expression that had become familiar to him whenever she applied the knowledge she had learned successfully.
As though sensing his eyes on her, she met his gaze, face breaking into a charming, almost coquettish smile that struck him nearly senseless.
Dear God.
This had definitely been a mistake.
Note: Ah! Once again, I was fortunate enough to commission the lovely and talented @/artbyainna on Insta! She brought my babies to life in their AU form! I'm so happy 😭 Thank you, Ainna for giving them life!
She even added purple flower motifs after Lilac's name 🌸💜😭
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Do you intend or have you addressed a more adult theme in your AU? Something emotionally heavy or something?
Yes, very much so.
One reason I'm drawn to cartoons is because I can balance the darker tones I enjoy with cool combat, humor, cartoon physics, and more mature themes. Those are the shows I'm drawn to, or else I'll just make them into what I want them to be lol
Obviously there are some serious stuff and spoilers mentioned below.
As I've previously said, I do openly handle the themes of mental and emotional health, and seeking help for those struggles. Drake and Gosalyn have to work Hard to keep the peace between them sometimes, and sometimes they don't do a very great job of it. But they always put forth the effort to make up. That's important to show. Over the series their relationship has to grow as Gosalyn grows up, and it's not always easy. More often than not it's messy.
Studio and Gosalyn Eternal both focus pretty heavily on declining health, specifically Drake's early onset memory issues and his struggles to find medical help and a medication that don't make the problems worse. Spoilers for Gosalyn Eternal, but Drake's entire arch is his physical turmoil with his medication, diagnosis, and declining condition, and his emotional turmoil in telling Gosalyn the truth. And the Whole Point of Studio is that Drake's mind betrayed him in the most devastating way possible after suffering a mental breakdown.
Studio also deals, sometimes subtly and sometimes not, with the idea of grief, suicidal notions, and mental instability caused by years of neglect and abuse in the case of Diver. Diver followed every step of someone who is planning their own death, and openly stated he didn't expect to survive the Studio confrontation. The abuse wasn't just at the hands of his brother, either, but that'll be expanded on later in the series... Let's just say sometimes victims of abuse attract other abusers through no fault or weakness of their own, but it statistically tends to happen. Diver is one of those types of victims. He's got trauma and CPTSD due to it.
Drake deals with paranoia and Gosalyn deals with anxiety and panic attacks, and self image issues. There is a corrupt police force and a persistent, invisible enemy throughout the series so far, and Drake deals with both loving and hating Darkwing because of everything the franchise has done to him and his family, everything it's done for others, and how much the character means to him personally. Gosalyn is preyed upon and her mind very much literally screwed with without her consent, Gosalyn deals with PTSD from and before Studio, and the Mallards are both chronically and deeply Alone, despite all their friends, it's stated multiple times that the Mallard brothers came from an abusive and neglectful household, and that there's a history of suicide and mental struggles in their bloodline.
Generational trauma is a Thing.
There might be more I'm missing, but that's what I can think of now. I don't dance around any of these problems, I make an effort to call them what they are, but I don't want to linger on any of these in the narrative. The ugly parts of the story are undeniable parts of the story, but they aren't the whole story. (Though you could argue Diver's entire arch in Studio is a result of his trauma. But that was Never meant to be the end of his story.)
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confessions of a pissed-off wannabe marauder
I once was a Harry Potter fan.
I was given the first book as a gift from a relative and refused to read it for a while. Then I read it and fell in love with it. I was maybe seven or eight at the time. I refused to read the next books for a while but eventually got around to the Chamber of Secrets, then Prisoner of Azkaban, and so forth.
I remember the deep and abiding HATRED little ten-year-old me felt for Umbridge. I remember feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach upon Sirius’s death. By the time I got to Deathly Hallows I was just sort of numb. Although I did feel excess shock upon Fred Weasley’s death.
I never much liked arguments. Or romance. Half-Blood Prince and Goblet of Fire were a bit of a drag that way. I don’t really give a fuck about who snogged who, you know? I just want my magic and friendship and mystery. And it was amazing when that came.
Then the transphobia came.
For a while I was still a Harry Potter fan. Desperately clinging onto a fading specter of escapism I no longer had, and I knew it. I refused to accept it though. Crying over why did JK have to do this, why won’t she apologize, why why why. Then everyone else starts pointing out things wrong with the series and I start shutting down.
Eventually I left the Harry Potter fandom. For my own good. The reassurances that ‘the books are yours now’ didn’t help. I tried to replace it with The Owl House, but it didn’t work for… convoluted reasons. I don’t feel comfortable explaining the whole story here.
I somewhat enjoy HP fanfiction now, because really the entire fandom hates JK at this point and if another fan is writing the characters I have the comfort of knowing they aren’t the same as canon. I don’t have to live with the worry that they carry the same prejudices as that bitch and goodness knows what else besides.
I have three very close friends in a group with me. Sometimes I mentally aliken us to the Marauders, it’s fun. But then I look at us and I feel guilty. We all grew up with Harry Potter and I may enjoy fanfiction, but my friends and to an extent me are people JKR actively hates and looks to destroy. And yes, before you ask, two of us are trans.
Oscar. Half-asian and brown. Funniest kid I’ve ever known, absolutely full of life, can perfectly contrast between serious and funny. Get yourself a friend like Oscar. But even so, he is half-asian, and I can’t help but feel JKR would dismiss him or use him to pat herself on the back. Harry Potter is undeniably a very white story, and also he’s a trans ally. Unforgivable I know.
Aaron. A trans boy who came out last year. Has the most sanity out of all of us. If there was ever a voice of reason he is it. Acts the least crazy, is the least crazy. But in JKR’s eyes, he is crazy. A ‘poor lost lesbian being groomed into being a boy’. How cute, she’s pretending she cares about lesbians. But she remains insistent that trans boys- that Aaron – are being exposed to ‘conversion therapy’. She pities Aaron for problems he does not have. She views Aaron as a ‘problem’. She likes to think she’s ‘saving Alice’ instead of destroying Aaron. (Alice is not Aaron’s actual deadname. But I do not think I have the right to reveal it in a public place.)
Ashley. Oh GOD Ashley. Loud, popular, liked by pretty much everyone, absolute best friends with Aaron. JKR hates her guts. In her eyes she is not Ashley but a ‘penised individual’. ‘A fox pretending to be a hen to get into the henhouse’. She sees her and girls like her as dangerous. She actively wants her GONE. I feel like she’d kill her if she could. She is nothing short of a threat to the existence of Ashley and girls like her.
And me. Since I’ve revealed everyone else’s real names I may as well reveal mine.
Rose. I prefer Rose Helen because Helen is my middle name and I think Rose Helen sounds cooler. I try to find somewhere to escape, I hang with my friends, sometimes we do stuff together. I think of myself as perfectly normal (Thank you very much. Haha.). I do lean into the oracle-card herbal-charm parts of witchcraft and enjoy it. I also happen to be a trans ally and someone hurt over JKR’s comments, or at least I have hurt feelings.
She’s also rather misogynistic, I’ve noticed. The treatment of Lavender and Parvati, calling Fleur a cow and mocking her accent in the text when she did NOTHING wrong, and there’s the fact that she praised Matt Walsh for ‘What is a Woman?’. I’ll say it now. If you ally with Matt Walsh, take the word ‘feminist’ out of any part of your identity.
Someone once asked her what she did knowing she’d lost so many fans over her transphobia. She replied ‘I dry my tears with my checks’ or something along those lines. Seeing that, I think, was the moment that really solidified it for me.
JKR doesn’t care about me. Who knows if she ever cared? I’m a pound note in her eyes. A piece of insignificant, lost money. And who cares about losing a pound when you’re a millionaire? An awful, dangerous, bigoted millionaire.
My friends she hates. Me she hates. And who knows if she cared before? She’s nothing but a transphobic, sexist prick who doesn’t know how minorities work.
I’m into the fanfiction Marauders. But I look at us – a collection of people JKR actively hates – and I can’t help but wonder if I’m hurting my friends too.
Imagining us as creations of a bigot. A bigot who wants us gone.
Fuck Joanne.
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I hadn't had that much to say about Hamlet when I read it, which is why I lumped it into a larger book report. Since then I have watched Hamlet (1948) and Hamlet (1996), the Olivier and Branagh films respectively, and I have a lot more to say about those.
I didn't mention this then but I consider Hamlet a sort of combinatoric play. Too many lines to play the whole thing, but with a huge variety of themes that can be emphasized or removed to construct your own production. Since the themes complement and comment on each other in different ways, whichever selection of themes you will make for a significantly different "Hamlet", which has its advantages and disadvantages. The trickiest part of this process is that plot-essential lines may be tied into these themes, so you need to work carefully and perhaps even write a handful of lines of Shakespeare yourself, which is certainly not easy.
Olivier's Hamlet (1948) is a great demonstration of that principle. Removing Fortinbras and both Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (I wish they had also removed Osric), deemphasizing those references to purgatory that are retained, and emphasizing the incest themes leads to a very psychological and familial "Hamlet" (think psychological as in manga categories, if you are familiar with those, rather than actual psychology). It's not quite what I was looking for, but I can at least appreciate the way the text selection, setting, staging, and performance compose a coherent whole. It achieves the desired effect, and is undeniably a successful production.
Branagh's Hamlet (1996) is, in its own way, likewise a demonstration of the combinatoric principle. Perhaps laboring under the bizarre assumption common to many Shakespearean actors, convinced that Hollywood was prejudiced against The Bard, Branagh seems to have decided to demonstratively punish a studio that had proved its innocence of this prejudice with an unwatchable, unscreenable, sprawling 4 hour mess of a movie. Perhaps Hollywood reticence to produce Shakespeare, if it exists, has more to do with the apparent tendency of its practitioners to produce box office poison than with any attitudes towards the playwright. I understand being mad at the philistines who control cultural production, but frankly when you expect them to give you large amounts of money you should not be surprised that, as ostensibly profit-seeking companies, they would like you to provide a saleable product in return.
Despite a handful of nice touches like the constant use of secret doors (which could nonetheless have used more purpose), the movie that makes no judicious choices in selecting the text (Branagh composes a "complete" text out of all the lines in the Folio and all the lines in the Second Quarto versions, yes including the rant about child actor companies, no I don't know why) also seemingly makes no judicious choices in setting or staging. The action is set in the 19th century. Why? Who knows, it certainly can't serve to emphasize the themes that are being highlighted, because there are none. On that topic, Branagh "cleverly" stages Hamlet's suicide soliloquy to be addressed to Polonius and Claudius. But Polonius and Claudius don't commit suicide, unlike Ophelia who is literally right there. Surely it makes more sense for her to overhear this, if anyone? This sort of problem runs through the movie, choices seem unmotivated and the undeniably clever devices and staging are in my opinion misused. Also, the fencing scene with Laertes is quite badly done, it is silly and illegible.
One serious issue with Branagh's version, which I think proves my contention, is that Branagh clearly felt the need to spice up the boring bits with some action incongruous with the text. He was right that if he left the text as it was, the pacing would be atrocious and quite lethal to a four hour movie. But in fact the pacing remains quite bad regardless, and the value of the text (whose supposed integrity is the whole point of this exercise) is diminished significantly.
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For cass: essentials 5, 8; life 7; death 3; clans 10, 12
ty im so happy ppl are interested in cass!
Essentials 5: as I touched on in the last ask, her sire is Astrid Hallman- originally a 10th gen Carrier Malkavian. Many year's prior to Cass' embrace, Astrid diablerized her own sire and became 9th gen which meant that Cass was embraced into the 10th generation as well. Cass first met Astrid as one of the rare gigs she would take for more legitimate private investigation type work among the many criminal contracts. Astrid was paranoid (as she always is) about being followed/hunted by someone and didn't want to approach the cops so she managed to get Cass' contact information. It was a simple job- extremely clear that no one was on to her and easy enough to prove, and Astrid payed quite well. A month later Astrid contacted them again, and again wasted their time. Same the next month. However Astrid was paying well and also had the benefit of being hot so Cass didn't mind. Eventually this turned into a proper relationship despite the red flags on both sides. Until, inevitably, Astrid's paranoia turned on Cass and caused her to think they had been lulling her into a sense of security while actually having found her out, which caused her to frenzy- killing Cass in the process before frantically embracing her when she realized what she had done. After that, still too afraid of having been sold out for diablerie, and now with the added problem of an unintentional childer, Astrid's controlling tendencies shot up to 11. She rapidly blood bound Cass and used that along with Dominate to keep her shut up in the apartment for a number of years until Cass could gradually chip away at her resolve and make a break for it. Their relationship is manipulative and controlling on both sides, since Astrid is chronically Paranoid and Cass's curse takes the form of Megalomania/NPD. Though, while Astrid genuinely loves Cass in her own fucked up way and just wants them both safe from the many dangers she perceives around every corner, Cass's resentment has only grown as time spent away weakens the blood bond.
8: technically, Cass isn't in v5 and therefore doesn't have any Touchstones TM, but if she was Lila and Rowan (who I mentioned in the last ask) would definitely be among them
Life 7: Cass is baptised and her dad had intended to raise her presbyterian- which was part of why her mother divorced him and went back to the US. Consequently she never actually grew up religious, and even with a small amount of dabbling in the occult since entering kindred society she still doesn't really buy into the Noddist mythology though obviously the existence of the supernatural is now undeniable.
Death 3: As is evident, Cass is a Malkavian. However, she hates the assumptions people make when that comes out, especially since she prides herself on being "the sanest malk you'll ever meet," so they often deliberately mislead people about what their clan is. It's easiest to go for Giovanni/Hecata as all the proof they'd need is to let someone watch them feed since they have the Grip of the Damned flaw. Likewise with Lasombra and the Cast No Reflection flaw, though that is preserved for very specific company.
Clans 10: Toreadors are a bunch of inattentive airheads as far a Cass in concerned. Good to have around if you can tempt them with something shiny, and they're rarely a serious threat.
12: The closest Cass has ever gotten to a Tzimisce was witnessing some poor fleshcrafted creature they found on it's last legs in a warehouse attempt to lash out at the coterie before being put out of it's misery. It was honestly pretty pathetic so she doesn't hold much respect for whatever particular Tzimisce did that, but having heard more about what Vicissitude can do in the hand of a master she's certainly wary of them in general.
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Hi Sarah :) I know you said you were working on AH scale asks, but just wanted to add my two cents! As an actual fat fan who previously had a longterm eating disorder... it's a highly relatable moment and not offensive at all! She's not saying she is actually fat. She's clearly saying she had a problem, it was painful and not healthy. Just like all the other problems in the song/video.
The entire premise is that Problem Taylor is the devil on her shoulder encouraging bad decisions and hurting her. Does anybody think Taylor is encouraging people to think everyone will betray them? Does anyone want her not to express that Problem Taylor experience? No.
Also, at the end of that scene, when she looks in the mirror and Problem Taylor appears? I fully thought we were getting a graphic bulimia reference. So it could have been something to actually complain about!
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Initial Reactions
I’m so conflicted about the anti-hero music video :( The scene where she gets on the scale and it says - “fat” like being fat is her worst nightmare, it really hurt my plus-sized friends. As a whole, I absolutely love the video, but it could have been a really easy change to just not show what the scale said, or have a sad emoji. Or have a different scene which shows a conflicted relationship with food instead. I understand you can’t please everyone, but this effects so many people and would have been a simple fix. I’m not mad, just really sad.
hey sarah! wondering how you feel about the fatphobia discourse re: anti hero mv - basically for anyone who hasn’t seen it there are people who don’t like that the scale scene shows her “fear of fatness” and how that is inherently fatphobic and the people going against them are saying that what she did with the scale is representative of fat being a “state of mind” and something that many people with EDs go through. personally i agree with the second opinion and i don’t think that it is correct for random people to be “calling” fatphobia on a recovering anorexic because the very nature of the illness is the fear of gaining weight so she is accurately representing her lived experience.
Maybe it’s too early to discuss this but I’m curious your thoughts on the fatphobia discussion around the music video. My friend (who is fat) and I were talking about it. Obviously she should be able to discuss her ED freely and it is a serious illness and a very personal thing. But I do think it was mishandled here, and that’s speaking as someone who has always loved TS. We are in a changing world and shifting culture. People need to recognize that lots of actually, undeniably fat people suffer from eating disorders. Just because they are actually fat doesn’t make the eating disorder ok or good. Being fat is not bad, it’s not good, it just is, and the video portrays it as bad (because obviously that is the messaging she has received in her life). I’m split bc she is just being honest about her experience, but I wonder if it is something we need to see from her in the medium of a music video where she can’t explain the nuances, and can only say that she doesn’t want to be fat/thinks she’s fat and hates it. Idk. Maybe I just need an outlet. I just think a lot of swifties are unwilling to see the different sides of this. It’s no hate to Taylor. It’s part of our changing social climate. Hopefully we can change this kind of messaging.
Response to Responses
I’m feeling super down by the way people are speaking about the fat scale on Reddit. My friend reached out to me to talk about how it felt hurtful to her as a fat person, and I was trying to explain what we had talked about there in a completely rational way (yes it’s a good scene for people who have struggled w eating disorders, no it doesn’t make actually fat people feel great to see), and I’m getting downvoted and bullied. I’ve been a swiftie since I was 12 (now 26). I’m not trying to attack Taylor or anyone, why can’t people try to open their eyes for 2 seconds and understand that the scene could have hurt people and those people are allowed to feel hurt?? It puts a bitter taste in my mouth over the whole weekend :/
Hi Sarah. No worries if you don’t publish this I just needed to vent and I feel heard even if you’d rather not host this discussion publicly! I just read an article critical of the “fat” on the scale in the music video saying it’s damaging and fatphobic and I’m so annoyed that people will literally bitch about anything. Maybe that’s how they make $$? I need to just ignore them I know. The whole point of that scene is she feels unworthy no matter what that scale says. People can relate to it.
Response To Video Being Edited
Trigger Warning for Weight/ED Recovery. Hi Sarah. News of updated Anti-Hero video edit just hit! I am so happy and proud to be a lifelong Swiftie right now. These moments are amazing to witness. Taylor and her team taking feedback and being sensitive to others' recovery. Not making it a big deal. Ugh. I just love that she did this. Super awesome of her and IMO shows her heart is truly in the right place (which we have always known).
Theyve edited the antihero video to remove the scale scene. I dont vibe w the pacing of the new one. I wish she had left it or just edited the word fat off the scale if she had to, it wouldve accomplished the same thing
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As you can tell, you guys had a lot to say about the scale scene in the "Anti-Hero" music video. I thought it best to group them by 'topic' in a sense to illustrate the range of responses to the exact same thing.
Not only to indicate differences in opinion (the beauty of life and TSS - I'd like to think!) but how oftentimes there is no 'winning' in a situation.
For me, I think there's many conflicting truths that occur here simultaneously.
The video documents the worst and unfounded fears and vulnerabilities Taylor has about herself and her life. They are the most bitter, sad, and dark pieces about herself that she knows are wrong and is spending her life trying to unlearn and rectify.
People who have been through, survived, and will likely always experience the lingering vestiges of an eating disorder should be able to talk about their experience - even when that experience is uncomfortable. Because diseases often are.
Fat people deserve respect. If the depiction of the scale using that word made them feel sad or hurt or less-than or any myriad of things - that is valid for them to feel.
The most uncomfortable part of this - and I think what is difficult for a lot of people to reconcile with - is that none of these things is more important than the other. They're all the truth and they're all real.
I think it's important to understand why that word and that scene was created (to painfully depict the shittiest things someone going through an eating disorder and body dysmorphia thinks and fears, and even in sickness knowing ultimately how wrong that is). Just as it is to leave space for people to have knee-jerk and emotional responses to it (why is my lived everyday reality being portrayed as this awful and doomed scenario? why is my mere existence seen as something so terrible?).
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Connect the Dots
Part Two
For @inu-mothership Fleet Week Day Two: Friendship!
Summary: Sango talks Kagome through her worries over her potential new plural partnership. A little girl time is always soothing to the soul ❤️
Also Read On: AO3
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Children laughed and splashed and played, twin heads of black hair with bobbing, bouncing pony tails squealing with happiness, and Kagome found their pure, uncomplicated joy a welcome and refreshing distraction.
Sango passed her another dish, and she dried it and stacked it carefully with the others, grinning as Hisui blew spit bubbles and babbled on his little blanket.
“They’re all so sweet Sango.” She said, and Sango scoffed.
“You only say that because you aren’t the one fighting them into bed every night.”
Kagome laughed, a true, unbridled laugh that belied none of her lingering turmoil, and Sango smirked and handed over another dish.
“I mean it. They’re menaces. If you told me they were changelings and I was raising foxes in disguise I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.”
“Maybe this one will be your sweetheart then.” Kagome said, scooping Hisui up and cuddling him close.
“He’d better be, I can’t handle another fireball in kid’s clothing.”
Hisui stared up at her moth melting violet eyes, ones so like Miroku’s they almost looked wrong housing so much innocence.
Hisui looked like his father, but his twin sisters we’re definitely more like him in temperament.
“So, Kagome, how have you been since your return? I know it’s only been a few days, but you’ve been laying pretty low. Are you struggling with Koga and Inuyasha’s news?”
Kagome sighed, lifting Hisui up against her shoulder where she immediately felt his drool seep into her clothing. She rubbed up and down his back absently as she picked through the all the emotional debris in her mind.
Nervousness, turmoil, anxiety, sadness, as well as an undeniable amount of anticipation, curiosity and allure.
She wasn’t sure which one she should pick out and talk about first, so avoiding them all together seemed the easiest, if not the most beneficial.
“Um… I don’t know. What do you think about it?”
“I don’t pretend to fully understand such a thing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t support you if that’s what will make you happy. Will it make you happy?”
“I… don’t know. They said they want to court me so I can know for sure…”
“That sounds low pressure, so what’s the problem?”
“I guess I’m just….” Kagome trailed off, wincing and untangling her hair from Hisui’s fist, “worried it won’t work out. I care about them both no matter what, I don’t want to hurt them.”
“Not wanting to hurt someone is a bad reason to spend the next several centuries in a relationship you don’t like, Kagome. I don’t want to hear that you’re agreeing to anything out of guilt, do you hear me?”
“Centuries? What do you mean?”
“Those idiots didn’t tell you?!”
“Tell me what?”
Sango sighed and slapped her hand over her forehead, muttering under her breath about meat headed canines and their inability to just talk before she set down her dirty dish and turned to face Kagome fully.
“Okay, I’m guessing they assume you just know, though why they would assume that is as much your guess as mine. What a couple of bakas. Listen closely. Im sure it’s no mystery that, as everything stands right now, you’ll be aging and dying before the next century, but they won’t, right?”
“Yes. That’s… been a bitter pill to swallow, truth be told. Even when it was only Inuyasha I was coming back for.”
“Well you don’t have to swallow it. There’s some kind of yokai magic that evens out lifespans between bonded souls. I don’t know exactly how it works, and I couldn’t even begin to tell you how it works when it’s three people instead of two, but I know for sure that’s what they plan on doing with you, I asked them myself. I just thought they would tell you.”
“Oh,” Kagome replied quietly, dangling a string with wooden beads knotted at the end so Hisui could swipe at it, “so they’re really serious then…”
“Yes. They are. Which is why I’m really urging you to make sure this is what you want. Go along with their little courting plans and just take your time. If you decide it’s not what you want, say so with no guilt. They’ll still have each other, you aren’t leaving them alone.”
Kagome gasped, dropping the beaded string and making Hisui cry out in frustration.
“Sango… you’re right! I think that’s exactly what I needed to hear to relieve some of the pressure. Thank you so much.”
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Sango’s shoulders, and Sango returned the embrace with no hesitation.
“You’re my family, Kagome. No matter what happens with Koga and Inuyasha, you’ll always have a home and family with me, Miroku and the kids. We love you, you know?”
“Yes,” she whispered in response, tears filming over her eyes and her heart swelling until she feared it would burst.
“I have to say though,” Sango quipped, pulling away and picking her dishes back up, “if anyone can handle being married to two canine yokai at once, it’s probably you. But if they give you a hard time or pressure you at all, come straight to me. I may have three kids now but I can still beat the hell out of both of them!”
Kagome’s laugh bounced brightly around them, and she picked her drying cloth up with a much lighter heart.
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