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barisifictionarchive · 4 years

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Author: Juniperhoot

Preferred Name: Jenny

Have any events in your personal life ever influenced the things that you've written? Absolutely. STRAP IN.

Sometimes I rework something that happened to me, or to someone I know, and use it as a template for filling in personal details. See also: Carisi’s tale of molten aluminum burning holes in his ma’s kitchen flooring. That’s something that actually happened to me (well, it happened to my second husband, who got distracted while playing CounterStrike and let the pan boil dry). In one of my Stony stories, Steve tells Tony about a comforting gesture he learned from his mother - three squeezes of the hand, to silently say “I love you.” That’s something I learned from my Mema.

Beyond those bits of color, there are things that have made their way into my writing that come directly from my experiences. My interest in Sonny as a queer Catholic who once considered the religious life is something deeply personal to me, because that was my life, too. Even though I’m an atheist now, the church still holds some fascination for me, and I’m keenly interested in people who find a way to walk that line, and retain some belief while also retaining their autonomy and sense of self. The way I write Sonny is, in many ways, the way I think I would be, if I still believed. Okay, if I still believed AND were also a tall, noodly, bisexual man.

The way I write Rafael’s overthinking interior life is partly me, partly the things I’ve observed in people I’ve loved. The carefully chosen words, the moments of retreating from revealing too much of himself, the guardedness and tendency toward self-preservation that comes from growing up in an abusive home… all very relatable and possibly part of why I mostly write from his perspective, even though I generally consider myself more like Sonny. The shadows in Rafael’s heart are in my heart, too. My empathy is built on those shadows.

I wrote a Stony breakup fic years ago during a difficult time in my life. I’d reached a point where I had to remove some people from my life, because my priorities and theirs were so radically divergent. It felt like a big breakup. It reopened some feelings from my second divorce, and compounded what I was going through with another more recent breakup. Somehow, I used the pain and disillusionment of all that to write about two dudes in love, who found themselves in a crisis of trust and faith in one another. Of course, I also wrote them coming back together, and the work it takes to do that, because in my heart, I want to see good people work things out, if possible. And at least in my story, and in the way I view both of those characters, they ARE good people. In real life, some people really do need to be cut loose, when their values are wholly incompatible with your own. Some relationships can’t be mended. Some friendships turn out to be mostly one-sided. But hey, if they can be mined for material, they were worth it, right?

I’m in a less volatile emotional space these days, so my fics tend to reflect that. I’m the queen of domesticity and cute banter, and love that I’m getting to explore the quieter side of drama. I know I’ve said this before, but it’s worth saying again. It’s not all slamming doors and WE’RE THROUGH!, you know? There’s a marvelous sense of drama in the ways we try to negotiate cohabitation, or meeting the families of our romantic partners. There’s drama in supporting one another’s goals and ideals. At least, I think there is? And I hope my stories achieve that.

Do you have a favorite movie? I have a few, and they’re very different movies, because they reflect different aspects of my heart.

Pee-wee’s Big Adventure (1985) is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen, and it still makes me laugh, 35 years after its release. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen it. The stupid characters, the kitschy aesthetic, the score… it’s so very silly. I love it.

Singin’ in the Rain (1952) is, in my opinion, the most perfect Hollywood movie musical of all time. Everything about it works. The entire cast is outrageously talented, and attractive, and the songs are all memorable. The title song and dance routine never fails to elicit chills and a thrill of giddy joy in my heart. When Gene Kelly does that spin in the street, with the umbrella held out before him like a dance partner? Aaaaaiiiieeee. This is the movie that makes me wish I could dance.

A Room With A View (1985) is the sort of quiet, clever, understated romantic (in every sense of the word) movie I turn to again and again. It’s a gorgeous adaptation of a really smart, surprising book that left a mark on me when I first encountered it in high school. The score is lush and inviting, the cast is beautiful (and oh, those costumes!), the script is just fucking delicious, and of course, the scenery, from Florence to Kent, is exquisite. Plus, we get interplay between sincere humanism (the Emersons), religious belief (the Reverends Beebe and Eager), and the religious-by-default stances of so many of the other characters, whose participation in the religious life of the community seems to be more for societal expectations than anything else. It’s just beautiful, and one of the only movies I urge everyone to sit through to the very end, not because there’s a post-credits scene, but because the closing track that plays over the credits is fantastic.

Who is your favorite author? E.M. Forster, partly because of what I said above about A Room With A View. The novel is short, but crammed with interesting ideas and engaging dialogue. He has a unique voice that spoke to me as a teenager, and my appreciation for his writing has only increased over the many years since. Read Howards End. Read Maurice. Read Where Angels Fear to Tread. Read A Passage to India. But start with A Room With A View.

I know a lot of people would say Howards End is his masterpiece, and they’re probably right about that, but I’m telling you, the book that has meant the most to me over the years is A Room With A View. I’ve kept a copy of it with me since I first read it in 1985, and it’s traveled with me from Minnesota to Seattle and back again. Lucy Honeychurch’s ongoing muddle is something I’ve lived, and survived, and it means more to me every time I read the book. More than anything, it’s a book about authenticity vs hypocrisy, and that just fucking speaks to me, you know?

How did you start getting involved in fanfiction? Several years ago, I read a Sherlock fic called “The Road Less Traveled.” It was during the long, painful, post-Reichenbach Fall hiatus between series 2 and 3, and I found myself looking for something to read that would fill the gap. I’d never had much interest in fanfic before, but this thing did something to me.

I didn’t start writing fanfic until I saw an episode of Supernatural that I found upsetting. (Don’t get me started…) I started writing a little thing to try to fix the stupidity. I wrote a couple of things, but the show did everything in its power to kill my interest in it, so I drifted away. (That said, I am very proud of my short Destiel Christmas fic, which I still think is very cute and makes me wish things had played out differently.)

From there, I started writing Stony (Steve/Tony, mostly based on the MCU, but with some elements of various Marvel comics I’ve read over the years). I wrote several things in that fandom, and most of it was extremely stupid, but there are bits and pieces that I’m still rather fond of. I still want to finish my long fic that’s been gathering dust for a couple of years now. Oops.

How did you get involved with Barisi? Barisi is probably the first fandom that I’ve written for that really seemed to embrace me and encourage me to keep doing this. A friend of mine has been watching SVU forever, and would reference things occasionally on chat while she was watching it. (See also: SEX PARTY MEASLES BABY, an intriguing statement that I didn’t actually understand for YEARS.) I started watching SVU off and on, a few episodes here or there, sometime in 2018. I started at the beginning, and worked my way through the whole thing. When I started it, I was mostly in it for Olivia Benson. But I knew Raúl Esparza had been on the show at some point, and at the time, I was in the “oh, I think I remember seeing him in something, he’s good” camp.

It wasn’t until I got to season 14 that I lost my mind over the show. Rafael Barba is one of the greatest characters ever written for tv, and I’m so thrilled he came along and blew my frickin’ mind. My appreciation for Raúl Esparza went through the roof, and it made me go look for him in other things, which fed into my spiraling appreciation.

Fast forward to season 16. Sonny Carisi walks in, and is… a beautiful, mustachioed mess. I love him from the moment I see him, and I say, “Oh shit, this is the love of Rafael Barba’s life, isn’t it?” This is even before they’ve shared a scene. This is before they’ve blatantly checked each other out. This is just me recognizing the potential, and craving it. Then he shaves that stache and starts dressing better, and he’s shadowing Barba and they’re working cases together and Barba’s being KIND TO HIM? COME ON.

Naturally, I started thinking about writing them. And it wasn’t coming from a place of “I need to fix this episode” or “I need to work out a recent trauma” driving me. It was just “ugh, they have an amazing dynamic and I want to explore it and I want to see what their home life would look like.” That’s how I ended up writing Carisi’s Goddamn Legs. Suddenly I was being bombarded with thoughtful comments from readers. In one such comment, Maxi (mforpaul) asked me where I could be reached on other platforms, and messaged me privately about the story, and made a big deal out of tracking me down on Twitter, introducing me to the rest of the fandom. And that fandom turned out to be filled with really amazing people, who think about big issues like justice and queerness and representation. Those same people are also wonderfully silly and down to earth. The power of this fandom!

What inspires you to write? Lots of things. Life, because it is weird and messy and wonderful. My closest friend, who is a springboard for a lot of my nonsense, is always eager for me to write something new. My love of a ridiculous turn of phrase. The quest for dialogue that sounds in-character and natural. Sometimes, it’s just the seed of an idea, a thought that won’t leave me alone, like, “I bet a short king would be obsessed with those long, noodly legs.” Because I, a short queen, am similarly obsessed.

Sometimes, when the writing fever is upon me, it’s hard to sleep, hard to think of anything other than the story I’m working on. I just want to get it all out and done. If I’m writing something that I really enjoy, or feel very closely connected to, I physically tremble as I write. When that happens, I know I’m on the right track, and I don’t want to stop writing. I just want to inhabit that space, and wallow in that feeling.

What is your favorite fic that you have written? Carisi's Goddamn Legs is really something. The pining, the uncertainty, the slowly dawning realization, but most of all, that scene at Lorenzo’s, where it all comes to a head and the way it creeps to the edge of intimacy and then is interrupted by Lorenzo and a retreat to the casual, only to be sent right back to the edge… I’ve re-read the damn thing several times since I wrote it, and that scene gets to me every time. I really like it a lot. I like the dynamic between them so very much, and the way the truth tumbles out of Carisi literally makes me shake.

What is your favorite quote from a fic of yours? Ooh, yikes, this is hard. I have a couple of lines I really like. One is short, one is longer. Just like Barisi.

One of them (from Carisi's Goddamn Legs ) was something I gave to Olivia, as she tries to counsel Rafael on his worries that his emotional armor isn’t protecting him the way it used to.

“Wear and tear, I guess. Armor was never meant to be worn all the time.”

It’s a line that means something to me, personally, because I spent a substantial chunk of my life in armor, hiding who I was and trying to settle for “the best you can expect” rather than my actual heart’s desire. When I dismantled that wall, things got chaotic for a while, but I also realized I was capable of emotional depths and soaring heights I didn’t think possible for me. It’s something that the Jenny of today wants to whisper (or shout) at the Jenny of 25-30 years ago, and it’s that part of me that relates to Rafael’s journey from a lifetime of SHIELDS UP! to embracing vulnerability and intimacy. (I actually really like that whole scene between them, because I love their friendship and think it’s beautiful, and crave more of that dynamic. Platonic intimacy is gorgeous, and woefully underappreciated in most entertainment. I could go on for hours about that, but I won’t. Not right now, anyway.)

And from Staten Island Serenade, this passage of Rafael gazing at a sleeping Sonny really gets to me.

“As hard as it was some days, Rafael knew without question he wanted to be right here with him, because Sonny was worth the effort. He was a bewildering mess of contradictions and weirdness, too smart for his own good but capable of saying the most ridiculous shit Rafael had ever heard. Somehow everything about him was beautiful, and inspired something in Rafael that felt pure, and almost holy, or would be if he believed in holiness. Like Cymon of old, transformed in every way by the exquisite sight of sleeping Iphigenia, Rafael found himself similarly transformed; ennobled by the nearness of Sonny Carisi, someone so decent, so kind, so truly beautiful inside and out that it would have been a sacrilege not to strive to be a better man.”

What is your personal favorite fanfic?

Again with the hard questions. I don’t even know where to begin. I honestly can’t point to ONE and say, “This is it! THE FAVE.” I’m so sorry I’m not able to narrow down my faves on anything. I’m terrible at this.

There are several Sherlock fics that I’ve read and re-read over the years, which I think really nailed their voices and their characters, and gave me things to think about. The Road Less Traveled will always be a favorite of mine, because it was the first, and because it is beautiful.

Pass Here And Go On by abogadobarba hits all the right notes for me. It rocketed to the top of my list the moment I read it. I’ve read it about ten times so far. I am ridiculous.

So Far in a Few Blocks by PhillyStrega is one of the only AUs I’ve ever read and loved. I’m not really an AU person, but shut UP, I love this story.

You Made Them Feel Like They Had the Devil Inside Them by cypress_tree really got to me. It’s about one of those issues that hits very close to home, and I think it’s a beautifully-written story about something that matters.

Anything else you would like to add?

I just want to say how much I love this fandom. I love my fellow inhabitants of Barisi Nation. I love that I get to obsess over things like the intersections of faith and queerness and humanism and sex and domesticity and justice and goodness. Even if nobody else wanted to read my stories, I think I’d still be over here, writing like mad, because I love these characters and it’s a genuine joy for me to spend time in their heads. But gosh, it’s gratifying to know the hours I spend on this silliness actually pay off for other people, too. I love hearing from people who’ve read my stories and found something meaningful in them, or giggled at something ridiculous Sonny said, or thought a sex scene was… well, anyway. You know.

I’m so grateful to get to do this. And I appreciate the hell out of all you lovely humans. You make me happy.

#barisi #Author of the month #Author recommendation #Juniperhoot

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httyd-grimmelsgirl · 4 years

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Readers,

I want to do fanfiction in the future, and it's taking me forever to finished what I started bc I am very (not literally) OCD when it comes to my writing. So, here are some of the ideas I had going.

Edit: Forgive me for how silly it sounds. I don't know a lot about what a young, more innocent Grimmel would be like.😊😊 Enjoy!

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{ Stories Lost to Editing }

"...When I was a boy"

Grimmel's father was the most important person in his life, and the ideal father, as well as an ideal warrior. He encouraged his son to perdue his desire to become something greater. Grimmel lived with his father and mother. He was smart, energetic, friendly, imaginative, and crafty. Solving problems was fun for him, and creating was his passion, so he wanted to find an impactful way to use his skills. Grimmel's settlement lived much like other civilizations at the time, like problems with dragons. In this village raids were common, and during each raid in Grimmel's village, Night Furies were with the other dragons. Grimmel was haunted by dragons. It deeply saddened and angered Grimmel that the safety of the village and the world around him could any day go up into flames.

During a raid, Grimmel's father was killed, and he became overwhelmed with grief and hatred, then he became intensely worried about what the future held. He swore he would prove his worth by killing the monsters that plagued their village, especially the exceedingly feared Night Furies. This was because he loved for his family, but he hated the bloodshed more, and he became determined to make a difference.

Later, he found a Night Fury asleep in the woods, afraid knowing it could wake and kill him. He remembered the pain it inflicted on his people, then proceeded to fulfill his oath. When he did, his fear was quenched, and he thought of killing it as a huge victory. His mother eventually found out, and she saw that he was growing to become successful, and was proud that he was the first to kill a Night Fury. Grimmel was instantly praised by the people. He understood what he did right, then sought to use his crafting skills to better his people.

In his mind, dragons were a danger because of what they caused and the aftermath. There were many villages that were struggling in some way due to dragons' existence. He didn't see any value in dragons. He only witnessed the pain they caused, and that they didn't preserve anything other than their own, who burned, crushed, and feasted on the world. He saw no reason for the world to be destroyed under dragons' reign.

"...Smartest dragon hunter I've ever met…"

He decided to turn his skills into his career, and he left to work alongside trappers at twenty years old. From here, his life was a long evolution from a boy to a man that made drastic changes. His trapping skills took time to perfect, and the beginning of his career was trying, but he was eventually very successful. Grimmel enjoyed victory and his career was his passion. He didn't enjoy the action of killing, rather what less dragons will result in. He always found fun in a chase and being challenged. He has had his fair share of tragedies, so found joy in little things such as how much easier his job was coming to him, the things he would accomplish, and the friends he had with him.

If Grimmel ever formed an alliance, he would let the relationship remain mutual, and in some people gained a good reputation. However, if the situation gets testy, he will take courses of action that will eventually help the situation, but look and work like personal goals. He has a worry free attitude and much confidence. His confidence makes him an achiever, but unreserved and seem insolently fearless. He forgets his actions aren't easily accepted, even if with a justification. If he feels taken advantage of, he doesn't care how he comes across to people and can cause his allies to resent him or presume treachery.

Grimmel was always working to fight dragons and do it better. He created better weapons and traps, and later revolutionizing them. He always thought of a better way to tackle any problem when dealing with dragons, by learning their abilities and how to better combat them. After creating a mind control serum and seeing that it fulfilled its purpose, he wanted to use it, so he would have dragons power as his own. He knew he could improve hunting by applying better use of dragons' abilities to his knowledge and skill. Deathgrippers were some of the most vicious dragons. They were widely known for working in packs, their agility and aggression, they were mindless predators to the extent they never surrender the way most dragons do when overpowered, and their abilities, most notably their venom. Knowing this, he was inspired. Such potential shouldn't go to waist. He eventually utilized their unique venom to numb their minds enough to more easily train and control them. With consistent work and patience, he was able to train them, using them for their natural aggression and abilities for better use then. Grimmel had done greatness in the Trapping Community that other trappers never even dreamed of.

Grimmel earned his title [the Grisly] from being one of the greatest trapper ever, and for his monstrous might and courage. On occasions like when he succeeded in fighting a pack of Deathgrippers and stunning a few by himself. And when he was a boy, he approached a sleeping Night Fury which was unsafe and something no one before him ever dared to do.

"Grimmel! My old friend."

Grimmel never endangered his life, but was not foriegn to taking risks. On many missions, he was comfortable with tackling jobs alone, and often took on tasks that were dangerous. When he had a partner, almost never was a human caught in the crossfire. He was mindful that not only he needed his allies, but they also needed him, and that they were human lives just as just as easily lost as the most innocent souls in the world.

At some point, he met a Tradeswoman, and they encountered each other several times while working in many places. They slowly became friends, eventually fell in love, and joined in marriage. They loved each other tenderly, and she was one other reason he must spare mankind from dragons. His wife revealed the gentle, beautiful, and innocent side of humans. Her compassion, gentleness, and love further solidified his belief that the world needs to live healthy, happy, and in peace. To him, she was like mankind: talented, understood morality, and was able to create, but not without vulnerability. Any day, she could die to a dragon, just like any other innocent person. Several years later, she happened to be shipping dragons, and something came and freed the dragons. The ship was burned down simultaneously, with few survivors, and she died. Grimmel was forever broken by his loss.

He developed a positive view on all mankind. He met many people with varying personalities and views, learning to appreciate humanity's potential to do justice, aside from obvious exceptions. He met various trappers and warriors who proved the capability of humans, and knew of some people that used their knowledge and skills to attempt helping people and other creatures. Even if it was an occupation he didn't understand fully, he respected it, understanding the importance of their choices and the way they chose to utilize their skills. While his wife revealed a reason to love humanity, the warriors revealed reasons to respect the might and importance in it. He believed whether someone fought for self gain, or for others, whether to destroy, or to protect, if the dragons were being defeated, a brighter future was to come.

A dragon trapper named Eir Stormheart formed a partnership with Grimmel. She was attempted using chemistry and making a concoction to control dragons. He provided dragons for her experiments, and perfected the serum for her. Eir believed it was her creation simply because it was her idea. Later, they went on an exploration, and stumbled upon a Changewing nest. Grimmel ran knowing there was no chance of survival, and he has a mission to complete. In Eir's mind, she was betrayed, and she believed her serum, bridles, and dragon was stolen. Grimmel was disappointed to have left her, believing she had died.

Grimmel is a well spoken, talented, unorthodox man with well developed strategy building, gentlemanly attitude, and a courtly sense of authority. He stands tall, and speaks with emotion and in metaphors. Grimmel is also a very observant individual, and is satisfied with many things in his life. He has always found fun in a chase and being challenged. He was living for something more than killing dragons, but his claims and determination were the only proof of that, for he evolved into a hardened, less sympathetic man bent to eventually freeing the world. It was the pain and struggle of himself and others that led him to kill dragons in order to resolve most problems that people endured.

"...This young chief will bring me the Night Fury."

By the time he had ended his quest to eliminate the Night Furies, he had earned the respect of the commoners for his "contribution". He was widely known in the dragon trapping community, Even at sixty years of age he was active in the trapping business. Many people respected him and his talent, which is what led the Warlords to acquire his assistance. He did what the Warlords requested, to rally the dragons, to kill the Night Fury, and to put Berk in their place for their insolence against what his father fought for and all the pain they caused the world by helping dragons.

When he discovered that the Berkians were dragon savers, he didn't respect them at all, especially after apathetically risking the lives of others for the dragons. He knew they would eventually be noticed and snuffed out by their many enemies. To him, they spit in the face of his ancestors and those that fought for the safety of the greater things in the world. Anyone that was proven to be an enemy of his, he has no respect for and is careless of how or why Berk should be recognized. He may attempted being friendly to his enemies, but can't help being scandalous.

He knew the Berkian's would act aggressively towards him before having a chance to begin a negotiation, because the Berkians past actions were enough to prove that they were intolerant of outsiders and would strike. He simply waited for them to strike. He saw no need to explain himself why he hunts dragons, he wasn't one to explain apologetically or change his beliefs, for he understood his justification. much less to Hiccup, an enemy, who asserted his way on others, and Grimmel knew of the chaos Berk spread by releasing dragons. He so only mentioned that killing dragons was widely accepted as an "act of courage" among those that haven't yet accepted dragons. So was comfortable with killing dragons, and was only faced with harming people when someone was a direct threat.

Grimmel believed in eliminating the threat before irreversible damage was done. Grimmel was not one to betray for self gain because what is to gain when there is no alliance to gain from. The Warlords didn't know this, but knew of his unmatched talent in the art of trapping. When he came to Berk, taking a Night Fury wasn't hassle. He knew of the Night Fury's nature and capabilities. When he had Berk's Alpha, he knew that if it had human friends, it was trained, and could even in it's most vulnerable state, escape or order an attack. Grimmel pointed a weapon at the beast, ending the reign of the unholy offspring. But before he could, the Dragon Riders unexpectedly came and saved the dragons.

When the end came, he was not going to let Hiccup live to protect dragons. He wanted to be very sure Hiccup's vision would die with his own, and for the safety of mankind. For his people, for his father, and the one he, Grimmel, loves...

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~Swan Grisly

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bat-besties · 6 years

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On Impossibility - 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

A popular!Logan and loser!Roman high school AU based on @2pointomg’s idea with eventual Prinxiety.

impossible

ɪmˈpɒsɪb(ə)l

adjective

· not able to occur, exist, or be done.

Eg. It is impossible to fund both the sports and drama programmes with the school’s limited budget.

· very difficult to deal with.

Eg. The situation which Logan Sanders, Student Body President, is in after he convinced the school board to cut the unsuccessful drama programmes is impossible.

· (of a person) very unreasonable.

Eg. Roman Prince.

To Roman, nothing is impossible. Not following his older brother Patton to acting college, not being a loser taking on the school’s popular Student Body President and definitely not writing and performing an epic school play with no money and six cast and crew members.

Edited by @alpacasarethegreenestanimal, who has an amazing fanfiction on AO3! If you like superheroes, sarcasm and Virgil angst then you'll love this

@toolazytothinkofcreativename

@entitydark

@romanasanders

@barclays-sides

@cashmeredragon

@jughead-is-canonically-aroace

@immacrazyfangirl

@narniasfinestavengingsociopath

@featuredfander

@what-a-catch-joe

@mightaswellenthuseaboutbooks

@candiukas

@whatamessofwords

Logan had never been more productive. He was ahead on homework, debate preparation and extra credit work, more invested than ever in running the student council and had recently taken over running the accounts of Elise's band. Cutting out lunchtime as a break had greatly improved his efficiency, which was doubly true when he followed a traditional meal structure of seven or eight meals throughout the day, skipping the need for a proper lunch altogether. His parents had always tried to understand their unique son, so when he explained his new regimen to them they let him take a smaller dinner at his desk as well, providing that he promised them he wouldn’t work himself too hard. Logan wasn’t working hard enough – he taught himself basic ASL and studied Hamlet, watched Bill Nye on his laptop as he read essays on Cicero, then took up jogging every morning before school so he could join the track team. It may seem counter-intuitive, but two weeks on Logan had confirmed the hypothesis that losing Virgil was the best thing which had ever happened to him.

Virgil leant against Logan's bright red locker, looking as though he was the fulfilment of the collective hopes of Simmons High and had fallen back to sleep. The position was much less comfortable than it looked, and the currents of conversation swirling past him were unnerving, but if he couldn’t see Logan coming then he would be engaged in conversation before he could run away.

There they were – those tapping soles in their regular rhythm cutting across the scuffles and pounding feet of the rest of the student body.

‘Virgil.’ succinct for once in his life, the single word from Logan was both an inquiry and an accusation.

Virgil forced himself to open his eyes slowly. God, Logan looked awful. He had lines under his eyes and his polo shirt had a tiny crease on the shoulder. To the outside eye he seemed fine, but Virgil knew that for Logan this was like rocking up to school in a dressing gown clutching a beer bottle. Why was he like this? Had Elise not checked he was fine after the fight, and had Joan not seen how exhausted he looked, and had the people constantly asking him for help not noticed how overburdened he was? He was with all these damn people the whole time, why hadn’t he asked a single one for help? Virgil hated that he couldn’t stand on his moral high ground when he saw his friend floundering in the waves beneath him.

‘Virgil?’ Logan’s forehead was creased with concern.

'Um, yeah. Well, I was just going to ask you something, but you look really bad man, is everything...Are you okay?’

'I am fine, not that it is any of your concern. What do you want?’

‘Well, I’ve joined Roman’s play thing and we really need money for costumes, so I was wondering if you could, you know find some to, you know, fund it.’

Logan stared at him wide-eyed, ‘Virgil – there is no money. I looked. I don’t know if anyone else but me has realised, but the school has to spend a lot of money ensuring standard of learning is maintained, and its extra-curricular fund is not infinite.’

‘OK, look, man, let’s do this another time, what time were you up last night?’

‘Don’t patronise me, Virgil. Let’s do this right now.’ Logan folded his arms and somehow managed to stand even straighter, ‘I have agreed to help a small group of people from my Spanish class go over verb endings before a pop quiz, and I do not want to keep them waiting.’

‘Fine – what about the debate team trip to New York, could that be made less expensive?’

‘No. And we can’t cancel – all five of us are counting on a national win or at least placing high out of the finalists for college.’

‘Well, the theatre kids need stuff for college too.’

‘I am fully aware of that.’

‘Well, then can we- ‘

‘There is no money!’ Logan quietened his voice after people looked round at his outburst, ‘I have checked, and re-checked, and checked again, and we can run debate, sports teams, bands and choir and assorted student-led societies. Nothing else. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to Spanish.’

‘See you around.’

Something in Logan went slack at that smallest of amicable farewells. Then he drew himself up again. ‘Goodbye.’

Time to wade into the fucking river. ‘Logan, wait.’ The boy turned, ‘Um, we’ve been using lunch to iron out small details to maximise rehearsal time. It’s a good plan – I got it from you.’

Logan smiled a little, ‘Using dead time to work. It does sound like a good plan.’

Virgil cupped a hand at the back of his neck. ‘Would you like to join us? No big deal, just so you’re not sitting alone anymore.’

So, Virgil had noticed him – he had seemed too caught up in stirring up the theatre kids to louder and louder shouts of laughter with his little comments and observations. It was a nice gesture, but when Logan had spent so long as one half of a pair it was hard to be tacked onto Virgil’s new group: all loud, all weird and all on the outskirts of the social structure of the school. Besides, they wouldn’t want him there. He doubted Roman wanted him on the same continent as him, let alone the same lunch table.

‘Sorry, Virgil. I too have been maximising lunchtime efficiency. I – I am glad you at least learnt something from me. Well, I must be going.’

Virgil stood for a moment, watching the crowds rush past him and swallow up Logan. In that moment, he wished he could just let it go, ignore Roman and his crazy dream and Talyn and their beautiful designs trapped on the page, and Dahlia and her corny puns, and Terrence’s dancing, and Valerie’s evil laugh, and Kyle’s love of monologues. He wished he could let go of the memories of green plastic and blood rushing to his head, of the imagined scenario in which he could no longer paint and how much having that taken from him would hurt.

He didn’t want to dramatically run after Logan or tell him he was right and abandon his principles. All he wanted was to be lying on his bed, scrolling through Tumblr and to have Logan flipping through a book on his bedroom floor. Every now and then one would read out something interesting or amusing to the other, mostly they were silent. They might have film music on in the background and there would be a plate of Mint Oreos halfway between them, so that they could both reach. Perhaps later they would brainstorm ideas for Logan’s project, or come up with silly names for emo bands, or watch Cosmos for the fifteenth time and have twin existential crises afterwards. Perhaps they would have dinner with Virgil’s parents and tap Morse code on each other’s chairs beneath the table in one-word inside jokes. Perhaps they would just stay there forever, preserved in the golden afternoon sunlight as though in amber.

The school bell rang shrilly, and Virgil jumped, cursed, and ran to his first lesson.

-----------------------------------

It was ironic, really – Logan working on his Macbook in a comfortable suburban house worrying about money. It wasn’t impacting whether he’d eat or what he could afford to spend his weekend doing. It wasn’t part of his job at all to look at the school’s accounts, but Logan could not just stick to ‘salad bars’ or ‘laptops’. He had gotten this job (twice) to change things, and it had given him power and popularity, so he would do it properly. He had negatively impacted the lives of the theatre kids, and now he had to rectify that. Before, he had decided to follow logic: money for football, track and swimming meant college scholarships for the athletes and prestige for the school, which came at the expense of only fifteen people, and only six of these were really hurt by the decision. But now he would try something different – he couldn’t do the impossible Roman wanted him to, but for Virgil he would try his best to examine what he could do to help the play.

At least he had somewhere to start from: there was no money. How could he get some? Borrowing from a bank wouldn’t work, even if money could be made selling tickets. Fundraising, then. He knew enough by now to know that selling rainbow T-shirts to raise money for theatre may be seen as a slight. Moreover, those free T-shirts were part of a project which would be his legacy to the school which had accepted him: compassion, equality and empathy. Fine, at $3 each if he could sell 50, then that was $150. It was a start.

He stared out of his window, down the darkening street. Bake sales? Eight people could make a lot of cake, even if two of those had baking skills so disastrous they had vowed to never try having any snacks but Mint Oreos ever again. Logan pushed away his laptop to lie on his bed instead. He closed his eyes. There was a calculus test tomorrow, and he had an essay due in he really should rewrite. However, his priority should be to help the people he was elected to represent.

--------------------

Mariana Sanders tried. She tried to tell her son he didn’t have to do everything himself, she tried not to feel hurt when he corrected her grammar or brushed aside her view on science even if she held a chemistry degree, she even tried to take his textbooks away from him when he stayed up at night working until he began to plead with her and she relented. His father was happy to let Logan do what he wanted, provided he seemed happy and in control, but she just wanted to understand what was making him happy and if he needed help staying in control. She stopped outside his bedroom door and knocked softly. ‘Honey?’

‘Vinegar.’ He sounded tired.

She pushed the door open and threw some papers at him.

‘`Sweet Pea' and `Pussy Cat': An Examination of Idiom Use and Marital Satisfaction Over the Life Cycle’’ he read, then smiled up at her. ‘We’re not married.’

‘Same principle.’ She was glad he was lying down, and his school stuff was away on its shelf, ‘Are you going to bed soon?’

‘Soon.’

‘Sleep is incredibly important- ‘

‘I know.’

She sat down on the bed and tugged on his tie. Sighing dramatically, Logan loosened it, then at a look from his mother removed it completely.

‘Everything alright with you?’

‘There’s a lot on. Still, you know me, perfectly in control of it all.’

‘Invite Virgil over tomorrow, you need a break and I miss his confusion whenever I slip an MCR quote into general conversation.’ She rubbed his arm, ‘I’ll get you guys Oreos.’

‘Mmm.’

Mariana frowned. ‘Logan, is everything alright with you and Virgil?’

That look. He had that look and she was knocked back years. ‘How did you lose your new astronomy book?’, ‘Are you sure that everyone is away on your birthday?’ and once, terrifyingly, ‘Where did you get that bruise?’

‘No. Just a slight disagreement, both he and I are men of principles…’

She pulled him into hug, and he broke off. There was a beat before ugly, racking sobs began to shake his body and he clung onto her desperately. ‘There, there.’ She stroked his back.

A single tear wended its way through Logan’s hair, though he was too upset to notice it. Mariana tried to blink it back. She was the mother, and she was meant to sit and be a rock, not break down alongside her son! But – she was upset for him and angry at him, and goddammit she was human too.

Logan couldn’t even think straight. ‘Mom.’ He had soaked the back of her top, ‘Mom.’

‘I’m here, Lo.’ She was crying openly now, ‘Lo, you idiot, I’m here. I’m here.’

#sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #prinxiety #ts fic

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whimstories · 6 years

Link

BalconyAU Pt 6

Part 1 // Part 5// Next

A/N: Everyone that has ever comment and been just fabulous human beings, (Tumblr, A03, or Fanfiction) you all are the only reason I’m finishing this. You. You right there reading. So thank yourselves, you’re doing good work.

I always write to improve, so comments and critiques are welcome! Please rip this to bits! Thank you!

Word Count: 3k

Waking up and staring at a blemish on her ceiling, Marinette is reminded she has no patience for subterfuge. She asserts this fact all morning as she tugs on her clothes, crumpling the fabric in her grip, and withers frustrated glares out her balcony window; a pair of pigeons stare back, flaunting their easy system of mating on the criteria that their partner has wings and is alive.

Chat Noir fragrantly proclaimed his intentions almost a week ago; to Plagg, then Manon, and thus essentially the whole building, and he hasn’t followed through in the slightest. Though her identity in the situation is in check, what reasoning can make a person say such a silly thing then disappear?

Do men in her life have a sick enjoyment in rallying her affections then promptly throwing them to the dust? It’s a pattern that’s becoming her best friend and, honestly, she doesn’t want any of it.

Yet even in her frustrations, her heart still wants to know him. She believes it’s a misunderstanding— soft strings plucking in the night air and gentle male undertones are difficult for her mind, and even her body, to forget. So she’s determined to make everything straight.

She’s not a princess locked in her tower in the 12th century, she’s a warrior princess of the 21st century, free to do as she will; and if this situation isn’t straight by the weekend, she’s giving up entirely. Even if he kneels at her door, with roses and tears rolling down his cheeks from anguished love, she will direct him to the nearest trash bin.

Alya calls for their morning meet up, and Marinette almost topples a lamp when she realizes she never told Alya about the entirety of last week. She didn’t think to call Alya at all about the Chat ordeal, or even the dramatics with Chloe and Adrien. Its probably because Alya would consider it an op-ed piece for the modern romantic and would, also, give the worst advice.

Chat Noir proclaims his adoration? Bang him immediately.

Chloe insults her and her best friend in a single breathe? Bang down her door, with doormen in tow, and throw her to the streets.

Adrien Agreste hides in her house? Bang him then get connections with the dad. Two-for-one sale!

Unsurprisingly, the latter sounds like she’s angling for Mr. Agreste, and if that isn’t a clear indication she’s known Alya too long, there’s no way she can tell her a thing.

Marinette is groaning like a troubled moped as she approaches the door to Alya’s newest cafe discovery. The front door is glass but a distinct darkness reflects through the window which stops Marinette to consider if it is still morning or that the store is closed.

However, the door pushes open when pressured and she finds the entire cafe is shadowed in dim light and too many black curtains. Marinette is certain she stumbled into the cafe for the undead, which is actually a fantastic cafe name when one considers morning patrons. Alya is sitting in a booth a few steps from the door and waves her down, her wonderful smile a strange contrast to the general bleakness.

Marinette sits across from her, the black leather seat reflects the light at the center of the table, and looks around at the blackboards, the scatter of high skinny tables with bolted chairs, and workers with piercings. The menu on the table displays pictures of all the drinks which are either complete black or ironic pink. Her mouth twitches when she considers anything eerie from her life is easily overshadowed by the terrible atmosphere here. A bit genius, actually.

“Marinette, your hair!” Alya exclaims, slapping the table. Marinette flushes, containing her glee, and tentatively touches the corner of the princess braid still safe on her head. She preserved it the best she could when she went to bed, adding all the bobby pins that didn’t exist before and wrapping it in a scarf, and was quite happy looking at it this morning. “Did you get it done at a salon? You never want to go!”

“Well, I—“

“I knew you’d look like a bombshell if you went to a professional.”

Marinette frowns. “I do fine on my own.”

Alya gives a here-or-there gesture with her hand flat, and looks dubious. “You have a poor, hot artist vibe. ‘I only have time for mascara and head buns because I can kite a man with my deep inner thoughts and button nose face’,” She teases then gestures to her own face. “Some of us have to watch youtube videos.”

Marinette pouts and plops her face onto her hand. “I don’t kite men.”

“Only hot people say that.”

A female employee walks up to their table for their order, which exempts Marinette’s response. After ordering, Alya begins gesturing excitedly about her weekend with Nino, where they went on a grand date to a concert and restaurants. It’s rare for them to go on dates because Nino travels with his job; or when he is home, he’s so tired from jet lag it’s just a lot of cuddling and extracurricular activities that Alya loves to describe in torturous detail. It’s hard to look Nino in the face sometimes.

“Alright, alright, I’ve said enough,” Alya sighs like a lovelorn dove. ”I just love him too much, you know? Lets get back to your clearly interesting weekend.” She waggles her eyebrows which puts up Marinette’s hackles.

She picks up her drink that arrived during Alya’s anecdote, one of the ironically pink frappuccinos with chocolate skulls on the side, to cover the bottom half of her expression. She scrambles for anything of interest.

“I went running two mornings in a row,” she shrugs.

“Trying to look good for someone?” Marinette clenches her jaw, the plastic straw crushes underneath her teeth, and curses Alya. She was always good at steering a conversation.

“More like, trying to get rid of the extra pounds someone put on me the past several months,” she quips.

“Gurl, give me some credit. I know when you’re hiding something,” Alya smirks. She brings her drink to her mouth, it’s a latte— the darkest black Marinette has ever seen— and also decorated with a foam skull. Alya’s delight in the taste is reflected when she downs half of it within a second. “Did you finally make it to next base with Chat?”

“He hasn’t shown up since the day I got back,” Marinette admits, going with a partial truth.

“Oh,” Alya blinks several times. “That’s… surprising.”

What’s more surprising is Alya actually looks surprised. She holds her latte at bay, considering it in contemplative silence, then sips it with more patience than previously. Like she was holding something back. Marinette tilts her head. “You think?”

Alya blinks several times, again, and waves her off. “No, no, I was thinking…I just had a feeling he was a good guy.”

“You said he was probably a murderer,” Marinette intones.

“Obviously, I was joking.”

“And an adulterer.”

“We live in Paris, not Antartica.”

Marinette shakes her head, unsure of her friend’s sudden good faith. Though she has pushed Marinette towards Chat since she realized Marinette’s over the top admiration, at the same time she is supportive of keeping her in traditional and healthy matches. From her perspective, him giving up means he’s a tease, artificial, and possibly an actual adulterer. Definitely not a good base for boyfriend material.

Alya’s eyes twinkle suddenly, like a spark of inspiration, and she waves her empty cup towards Marinette. “How about this: Nino and I are going to a Karaoke Bar next Friday. You should come with us! Nino’s bringing an old friend, and I hate third wheeling the friend dates,” Alya says.

“Karaoke?” Marinette asks.

“You sing for a stranger but not your best friend? I’m shook,” She says with the utmost seriousness. “You need to get this guy right out of your head. Embarrassing yourself is the best option.”

Marinette groans into a smile, imagining said embarrassment. “Why must you torture me?”

“Because I’m all knowing and all powerful.”

Marinette cannot enact ‘operation warrior princess’ until Wednesday afternoon, when she catches sight of Manon at the front desk. If Marinette hopes to meet Chat Noir when he no longer shows up on to balcony, and she had checked every night, then she has to ask the central hub of communication.

“Manon?” Marinette asks. Manon hums, an arm leaning on the desk and supporting her head as she reads a novel. The cover is tilted low and Manon looks about as interested as a fox to an ant. Required class reading, then. “Do you happen to know what happened to that—um, singer? The one that use to come out every night?”

Manon hums, again, flatly, looking like she was stuck in the void of reading the last line of her page and the battle has worn her a reading speed of 20 words per minute. Marinette wonders if she should come back later, but Manon would probably be done for the day, and Marinette made a promise to herself.

“Did he ever find that girl? The one Plagg pointed out?”

Manon snaps the book shut, like an electric wire hits her, and stares aghast as Marinette. “Plagg. Oh my goodness, don’t get me started on Plagg, that dolt!”

Marinette straightens out, happy something caught the girl’s interest, and asks, “What happened?”

“Okay, I can’t tell you all the details, because Plagg said the guy is afraid girls will flock his door. Which I don’t blame him. They would if they knew the whole package.” Marinette’s mind latches onto the information, wondering if she fell for a Mr. Darcy after all. “But I do need to rant a bit.” She pauses and looks over Marinette. “I love your hair.”

Marinette is use to the compliments, dragging out the remains of the hairstyle to its last. It wont survive the night, the frays becoming less stylish and her hair needs to be washed soon, which definitely disappoints her. “Thank you. And I won’t tell anyone. Not even, Alya.”

“Please, tell Alya. Actually bring her along so I can rant to her as well, and maybe we can solve this dramatic liaison in a single afternoon,” Manon sighs.

Marinette tends to forget Manon and Alya are as tight as twine whenever they’re in the same room. They have the same interest for drama and mystery and just about the same amount of cynical humor.

“So, Plagg, he’s an idiot,” Manon starts. “He’s an idiot because he got the wrong door number, and now our dear singer is ensnared in the claws of a she-devil.”

Marinette’s mind buzzes at the words. Chat is still looking for her. He wasn’t chased away, he was sent down the wrong path! “So he knows its the wrong girl?”

“Yes! But he’s with the she-devil’s out of guilt for leading her on for a day. A DAY. That girl would guilt him for the rest of her life just to keep him ensnared. Plagg is a penchant for bad luck. So, now, what’s happening?” Manon leans on her forearm and waves grandly to herself. “Plagg comes crawling to me to solve the case. Which is a pain because I couldn’t even figure out our male without him telling me, how am I supposed to find the leading lady?”

“So, you don’t have any clues?” Marinette asks.

Manon looks physically pained. “Im dried up.”

This is so much information, fantastic information, that Marinette doesn’t want to wait. She can straighten this out right now— just tell Manon and she can point her to Chat. Perhaps Alya’s gut really did mean something. “I might, actually, know something to help?”

Manon perks up, eyes wide, and leans over the counter to grip Marinette’s arms. “You’ve been holding out on me Dupain-Cheng? Who gave you the goods? What do you know?”

Marinette raises her hand in defense. “Before I say anything, you’re my friend, right?”

Manon pulls back and huffs. “Of course! I would cover murder for you.”

“Manon.”

“Including my murder. Full coverage.”

“Okay, fine.” Marinette takes a breath “The girl who sings with him—“ a bustle of people returning from work, enter the front doors and Marinette’s nerves flusters her words. “—I, I happen to know her. And she’s looking for Ch-that guy, too.”

For some reason, even if she trusts Manon, before the cat is caught, she doesn’t want this soap opera even remotely broadcasted to the building. She remembers the doormen teasing her about too much takeout, what would they say about her love life at this stage? Barry has a boyfriend now, and she could not take his pity stares again.

“You knew? This whole time?” Manon stresses. “No wonder you were so excited that day! You went to tell her!”

Marinette breathes relief. “Something like that. Look, she’s trying to talk to him. If you can give me his door number, this whole debacle can be cleared up.”

Manon bites the inside of her lip. “I don’t know, Plagg sort of told me in confidence. Even if it is her, which I’m not doubting you—“

Marinette recognizes a sinking ship when she sees one and changes tactics. She grabs Manon’s hand between two and hers and leans across the desk. “Manon. This is true love at stake. This could be the greatest story to ever come out of these apartments and you are at the center of it.”

“That’s a little—“

“You always complain that romances in this city are too dramatic. Maybe it’s because the wrong people keep tearing them apart. Romeo and Juliet. Westley and Buttercup.”

“Clarke and Lexa.” Manon’s eyes are wide and inspired, and Marinette is rejoicing. “You’re right, if I leave it to Plagg, he’ll screw it up again. The girls need to take action now.”

Manon takes a post it note from the desk drawer and scribbles on it before folding it up and sliding it across the counter.

“Thank you, Manon,” Marinette sighs, clenching the paper in her fist. Manon sends soft punch to her arm in return.

“I better hear all about it the next time I’m on shift.”

Then the next three seconds is a whirlwind. Marinette is smiling and turning towards the elevators when a heavy obstacle hits her mid step and she’s careening forward. Since the paper is in her fist, she attempts to use one hand to balance check, but another person is already mid motion to catch her, so her body is going the wrong way. In result, there is turning, tangling and crashing to the ground.

“What are you doing, Bruce?” Manon yelps.

A soft grunt responds along with a jiggling motion under Marinette’s head. She’s rising on fours from the ground and her face is right next to a well pressed pant leg. Bruce, the least clumsy and least likely to cause an accident in the entire building, is on his rear next to her.

“You really do work in the shadows, don’t you?” She jokes, though a bit dizzy from the sudden fall. A weird imbalance is causing her head to tilt and she looks to the left and the princess braid is no more, dangling in a single long braid with locks falling out. She wouldn’t be surprised if some bobby pins were scattered on the ground next to her.

Bruce smiles, an eerie and strange sight for those who know him. “My mistake,” he says. Manon walks around the desk to help Marinette up, in which she smiles gratefully.

“Wow, what happened here?”

Plagg is in casual attire, a black bomber jacket, a t-shirt, and jeans, and standing right next to Manon. Marinette glances below her and notices a few suitcases scattered on the ground next to a golden cart. They must have fallen, though how she didn’t hear them is amazing.

“I didn’t know you worked tonight,” Manon glares, probably still riled up from their conversation.

“Barry needed the night off,” he shrugs. He shuffles closer to Bruce, dragging his black converse across the ground, then offers out a hand. Manon accepts the explanation, her shoulders unwinding, but her eyes are still narrowed at Plagg.

Marinette takes her cue to leave and looks down at her right hand, now empty. She grumbles then whispers to Manon, “I think I dropped the paper.”

Manon looks towards her then at the ground, which is usually spotless so finding a pink post-it should be a breeze, but there are too many the suitcases. Manon looks towards Plagg, probably not wanting him to see her, before turning towards the desk, but Bruce taps her shoulder first. Manon turns with her brows raised.

“You’re almost off your shift. Do you mind sending up some boxes to Madame Bustier? Now, if you please.”

“Ah-um,” Manon glances at Marinette and sends an apologetic smile. “Right on it.”

Marinette clamps her lips to a thin line and curses her luck. She looks at the suitcases and leans down to help pick them up, hoping to find the paper, but Plagg shuffles in front of her. “I have this. Do you need anything else today?”

Marinette sighs, knowing it looks awkward to stay and watch him clean up. “No, thank you. I happened to drop a piece of paper. If you find it, can you send it up to my room?”

“Yes, Miss,” Plagg grins and stands there. She looks around awkwardly and nods in return and walks to the elevator. She looks back and Plagg is still standing there with a smile, not cleaning up yet. Marinette narrows her eyes at him before the door dings and is forced to enter.

He’s still smiling, stock still, until the doors close.

She remembers thinking that Plagg must be close friends with Adrien. Considering how strange he is, she wouldn’t be surprised.

#adrinette #marichat #ml #balconyau #storytime #writing

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neni-has-ascended · 6 years

Text

The early Disney Princesses are more than You give Them Credit for

(Neni’s Advent Calendar, Day 16)

Older Disney Princesses get a bad rep. There’s absolutely nothing to dispute in that statement. As well-regarded and respected their movies are for their technical achievements and beautiful animation alone, whenever you hear people talk about the actual characters appearing in these movies, especially the protagonists, you will rarely find people lose a nice word about them. Accusations of Snow White, Cinderella and Aurora being anti-feminist characters, teaching little children, regardless of gender, harmful lessons and values, are easy to make and thus a dime a dozen. They’ve been parodied, ridiculed and done off as an archetypal relic of the past century’s culture, by everyone and their mothers, including Disney themselves.

Maybe that’s just the reason Disney have been trying so hard to “modernize” these characters, by rewriting their stories and personalities to the point of being non-recognizable in their recent slew of remakes. 2014′s “Maleficent” and the 2015 version of “Cinderella” come to mind. But do we really need remakes like that? Don’t get me wrong, the original films were clearly products of their time, but the way Disney advertises these reimaginings as “updated” and “feminist” makes it rather clear that the only reason they exist is to please the crowd who’s convinced the original versions of these characters are “harmful” or “badly written” by modern standards. And that’s just not a sentiment I can get behind at all.

Let me make one thing clear before I continue: I did not grow up with the original three “Disney Princess” movies, and for most of my life, I only knew them from clips that would play in-between Disney Afternoon shows or hear-say. Well, I may have seen Cinderella once, when I was 7, but that was it. I just had no interest in watching those movies. As a child I found older Disney movies to be - as Cinderella would probably put it - “frightfully dull and boring”, and stuck to watching The Little Mermaid and Mulan on VHS.

However, as my knowledge of aforementioned quote should probably tell you, by now I have actually watched and enjoyed all three of these movies. Quite recently, actually. A combination of a Christmassy need to watch old animated movies, as well as having an on-going Kingdom Hearts BbS fanfiction in the works that will eventually require me to write in-character versions of the three original princesses makes it possible.

Now, due to how popular culture has indoctrinated me over the years to believe that classic Disney Princesses are flat, uninteresting characters, who only exist to get themselves into a pickle and be saved from it by equally flat, uninteresting princes, making the whole endeavor only worth the watch for the beauty of its animation, I didn’t expect much when I absentmindedly put on the original version of Cinderella on Netflix one night before going to bed. In the end, I was blown away. Cinderella... was nothing like what I was led to believe she would be. I’d been promised a barbie doll who spends her life doing nothing but enduring being bossed around by cartoonishly evil villains with a dumb smile and dreaming of being mother to a nuclear family until Prince Charming comes and sweeps her away with no effort at all. Instead, what I found was a snarky, spirited girl, who is quite aware of the abuse she’s being put through and holds a healthy amount of loathing and spite for her abusers (Stockholm syndrome clearly hasn’t gotten ahold of this one, it didn’t), yet endures it because she’s waiting for a good opportunity to free herself from this lousy situation without ending up homeless and starving on the streets. The term “prince” is only mentioned once by her, in passing, until long after she’s actually met the guy, and meeting him was never her goal when she tried to get to that ball. She just wanted to defy Lady Tremaine for once in her life by going out and partying, because she felt like it. No other reason. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

What I’m trying to get across here is: My first encounter with the actual movie Cinderella made me wonder, how much of what we take for granted about these old “Princess Movies” due to how they’re represented in popular culture is actually accurate, and how much of it is just flanderization and simplification, making an aggregation of smaller flaws in otherwise great movies appear much bigger and more damning than they actually are? Maybe these movies are a whole lot less regressive than we often give them credit for. I’m not necessarily saying they’re “progressive”, heaven’s no, but in some ways, I found the 1950 version of Cinderella’s character to be a lot more independent and strong than her 2015 version, which is claimed to be the “feminist” one, and the less said about what “Maleficent” does to... pretty much every single female character from the original movie, the better.

So, here I am. I already had strong opinions on the three original princess movies after watching them this month, and watching “Maleficent” was the final straw. In honor of this season’s tendency to replay the corniest of fairy-tale movies ad-nauseum and my own love for corny fairy-tales, I’m gonna take a quick look at the three original Disney Princesses within the context of their movies and see how well they - in my honest opinion - still hold up by today’s standards. Where applicable, I’ll talk a little about the remakes as well. Well then, let’s go!

Snow White (1937)

This is the least defendable movie of the bunch, but for the probably most respectable reasons.

I mean, let’s face it, this was Walt Disney’s - and actually, anyone’s, period - first go at a feature length animated movie, and despite how stunningly beautiful a film it still is, BOY, it shows. The whole film, from start to length, feels a lot like an overly long Silly Symphonies short with a monstrous budget, which is basically what it was. These people didn’t know how to make an animated feature film yet, so they used the next best experience they had as a model, and while it worked in their favor, its natural consequence is that Snow White’s character basically just feels like an extension of the female animation eye candy from their previous shorts, such as “The goddess of spring”. The fact that she’s constantly referred to as “beautiful” in a way that makes her sound sexually eligible, despite being 14 years old and acting like it is more than just questionable as well, to say the least. However, if there’s one good thing I can say about Snow White, it’s that she’s not quite as passive as she’s made out to be.

Now, her initial reaction to almost being assassinated, then asked to run and live in the forest is shock and trauma, as to be expected of a 14 years old girl who was just almost assassinated, then cast into the woods. People make fun of the “OMG THE TREEEES” scene, but fact is, if you were 14 and this shit happened to you, wouldn’t YOU act paranoid for the next couple of hours after? It’s “self-preservation instinct”. Nothing about how she broke down in that scene was wimpy or unrealistic. In fact, the way how she picked herself right back up after the initial scare had passed and cheered herself up without the help of another human being (animals to pet are another story) is quite impressive. As soon as Snow White has her bearings back in order, she gets up and, quite intelligently, decides to go and look for lodging. That’s right, she doesn’t just sit there and wait for someone to come and save her. She stands up and goes “Well, I guess stepmom’s lost it. Welp, time to go and get my own place.”

And what does she do once she finds a cottage that could possibly offer lodging to her, but sees that there’s nobody home? She immediately starts to plan on how to receive permission to stay, basically doing the math on how to pay the rent. She takes the initiative. Nobody invited her in, she decided for herself “I’m gonna make myself so useful around here, they’ll have no choice but to give me a room!” Again, impressive for such a very play-minded 14 years old. She clearly knows how to take care of herself. Now, when it comes to “stranger danger”, she clearly still has a couple of things to learn, but without a functioning set of parents to tell her to not accept candy from strange old people in a van, really, who can blame her?

Then there’s the issue of the prince. He’s clearly quite a bit older than her and the implied marriage between the two of them... Let’s just say I REALLY hope they waited at least three, four years with that. Then again, these were the middle ages, so... oh well.

However, in general, the relationship between the two isn’t handled too badly. Sure, the prince is pretty much a prop, an item for Snow White to acquire at the end of her struggle to survive (a theme we’ll see repeated in Cinderella), but despite us only seeing one scene of her singing together with him in the start of the movie, the way she talks about him for the rest of the movie (and the way the narration goes) strongly implies the two of them met more often than that. For all we know, they’d been meeting up in the courtyard like that for a couple of weeks already by the time Snow White has to run off. Basically, it can be assumed, those two already knew each other well enough and even considered each other properly boyfriend and girlfriend by the time the Prince appears in the end to kiss her awake, which makes the fact that he kisses her awake in first place a lot less creepy, especially compared to the original fairy tale. This isn’t a stranger coming in to claim a pretty price; It’s a concerned boyfriend learning that his M.I.A. girlfriend might possibly have been murdered by her crazy mother and hurrying to her dying bed to see her one more time. Again, this doesn’t change anything about the obvious creepy age gap between the two of them, but if I’d seen this movie as a kid, I wouldn’t have taken “Awww, being kissed by a stranger and then taken away to be married by him is soooo romantic!” from it. I would have taken “Awww, it’s nice to know that there was a loved one out there who cared enough about her to come and save her even when it seemed too late.” from it.

If Disney decides to remake this movie, I guess I’d wish for them to do three, and ONLY three things to change the story:

A) Age up Snow White by at least two years,

B) Put more emphasis on her already present resourcefulness and craftiness, and

B) Add more scenes in the beginning to make it 100% clear that she and the prince have been an item for a long time, eliminating the creepiness of a possible stranger kissing her entirely.

I don’t think there’s really much else you can do, without ditching the source material. I mean, let’s be honest, you’re kinda confined in what you can do when working with Grim’s Fairy Tales, but for that this movie isn’t doing too badly.

Alternately, a movie about the Evil Queen could be done and would make a LOT more sense than a movie about “Maleficent”. More on that in the last section.

Cinderella (1950)

This movie is the one I think is most unfairly judged as “anti-feminist”, because pretty much every single piece I read claiming that Cinderella is a passive, docile character waiting to be saved by a prince... Let’s just say I doubt these people have ever actually watched the movie in first place. That, or they’re mixing it up with the other two.

Snow White was waiting for her boyfriend prince to come and help her out.

Aurora laid asleep, waiting for her prince to come and help her out.

Cinderella? Cinderella isn’t waiting for anyone. Cinderella is constantly looking for her chance.

As I’ve said before, if you actually watch the movie, you’ll quickly realize that “finding a prince” and getting married is never a concern of Cinderella’s. All she dreams of is leading a happy life. What kind of life that is isn’t specified, but it probably involves a whole lot less Lady Tremaine, Anastasia and Drisella, and a whole lot more me-time for Cinderella. Cinderella is far from docile and complacent in her situation. From the first scene we hear her speak, she’s snarling at the clock-tower dragging her out of bed when she’d rather avoid avoid it, snarking at Tremaine and her daughters behind their backs non-stop and defying their orders by keeping the mice they clearly want dead as her friends and pets. The very first thing she talks about is having a dream and wanting it to come true, and the movie let’s little doubt that said dream is all about escaping her abusers at the first realistic chance she gets. But she doesn’t just dream; she’s realistic. She has foresight. When Lady Tremaine insists she can’t go to the ball, she sets out to defy her stepmother by playing the “Your orders are not above the king’s” card. She handles her chores in record time, only to prove to Tremaine that she can’t stop her from going, and when ultimately she lacks the time to finish her dress, Cinderella is rewarded for a previous act of defiance - saving the household mice and treating them kindly - by having them finish her dress for her. Basically: Everything Cinderella gets, she earned. She isn’t just sitting down, waiting around to be saved. She works hard and stays good to her friends, even in her shitty situation, and her friends stand by her in return, aiding her in her attempts to defy her abusers. The Fairy Godmother, too, isn’t just a random stroke of luck. She even says so herself: The aid she receives from the fairy is a reward for Cinderella’s unfaltering belief in a better future, which she held onto despite all of the abuse. It’s an empowering message, about how by not lowering yourself to the level of those who wrong you and staying true to your own ideals, you can ultimately succeed with the aid of those whose trust you earned. Cinderella gets to go to the ball not because she’s pretty and cute and we’re supposed to root for her, but because she deserved it. Ultimately, Hard work pays off.

Oh, but let’s not forget what the ball was really about: Cinderella wants to go out and party. That’s all there is to it. No prince involved. In fact, when she actually does get to go, and some guy asks her to dance with her, she doesn’t even realize that guy is the prince until way, waaaay later. To her, she’s just out at a dance after one hard day of work, having the time of her life, when suddenly a hot guy walks up to her and asks to hang out. They hang out, talk and, whoa, the hot guy is super nice, too! Totally her type! Talk about one awesome party! Now, I’m asexual myself, so I don’t know what it’s like to immediately crush on someone the first moment you see them, but I’d imagine that for many people, an experience like that at a party is quite relatable. The point of the scene isn’t that Prince Charming is saving Cinderella, the point is that she’s out, having fun, like she’s dreamed of doing for so long. All those years of hanging in there are finally paying off. She’s successfully defied Lady Tremaine and managed to have an awesome night. The fact that she developed a huge crush on the guy she danced with is more or less just a side effect.

Talking of the prince, again, if anyone is a flat character, it’s him. Again, he’s a prop, someone who exists as an ultimate reward for Cinderella’s hard work - and, most importantly, not the other way around! Cinderella isn’t the prize to be conquered here. The prince is. He is her reward for defying Lady Tremaine and managing to escape her abuse. In the climax of the movie, against all odds, it’s not the prince who saves Cinderella: Cinderella saves herself. She stands by the door, tries to pry it open with all her mind, and, finally, hatches a plan to free herself from the room she is locked in with the help of one of the friends she’s earned herself with her kindness. That’s all her. If she hadn’t acted that moment, thought about it and figured out what to do to save herself, she’d never have been able to leave the room in time. But she did. She saved herself, and the help she received, she received from the people who’s trust she’s earned with honest effort. My single complaint with the movie is that she ends up marrying the prince after their first, maybe second date, but, again, that comes with the source material. Let’s just give the guy the benefit of the doubt and hope the marriage doesn’t fall apart. Cindy definitely earned it.

When I was 1950′s Cinderella, I don’t see a helpless girl who is swept off her feet by a knight in shining armor. I see a resourceful, intelligent young woman, who waits for the perfect moment to escape her abusers, earns it, and then takes it, not allowing anything or anyone to stop her. I see nothing anti-feminist in this. Both, Cinderella and her abusers are female. The prince is a prop. She never interacts with any other male humans. The male mice help her because she’s saved them and kept them alive first. There are no male power-fantasies at play here, and even if Cinderella is a very traditionally feminine character, what’s so bad about that? I am a woman who loves BOTH traditional and non-traditional femininity. Cinderella has her well-deserved place in this world. This is a movie that I’d show to children without a second thought, right next to things like Steven Universe. Any kind of femininity that doesn’t rely on non-agency should be celebrated, me-thinks.

That’s why I absolutely don’t understand why Disney felt the need to remake this movie.

I’m... conflicted on the 2015 remake... Actually, I took notes while watching it today. Lemme share them with you as they are, alright?

The start is good, thanks for expanding on this.

CGI mice are cute, thanks for not cutting the mice

Slow progression into abuse which makes sense with the original movie and could easily be in-continuity with it, good

An actual motivation for Lady Tremaine which makes sense, yes, very good

the first act was awesome.

where is Cinderella's snark?

Seriously, why isn’t she snarking? That was the best thing about her.

Oh gosh, they made Drisella and Anastasia even MORE cartoonishly evil

Too much talking,

too much prince,

WHY CAST HELENA BONHAM CARTER AS THE FAIRY???

what are you smoking

The slapstick wasn’t needed. At all.

why is the grand duke evil,

She's NOT more proactive

Too much prince angst. king didn’t need to die

Seriously, Why make the Grand Duke evil? SHE DOESN'T EVEN TRY TO FIGHT GOSH IN THE ORIGINAL SHE CAME UP WITH THE PLAN THAT SAVED HER HERSELF

SINGING???? REALLY???

In the original version, she saves herself with the help of the mice. Here, SHE'S SAVED BY THE FRIGGIN' PRINCE GOSH. FEMINISM??

All she is more angry at Lady Tremaine??

"I forgive you. Guards, banish the bitch."

Have courage, kindness and VINDICATION

THE FIRST ACT MADE SO MUCH SENSE AND WAS SO GOOD THO. THANKS FOR THE CGI MICE GOOD

...Ahem.

So yeah, as you can read out of this, I would have much preferred this movie if it had just been a prequel short to the original film, as which it would have made a lot of sense and would have been beautiful. The moment Cinderella met the prince in the woods, everything kind of fell apart, since from that moment on, going to the ball became about the prince, totally undermining what made her decision to go there such a great show of self-agency in the original. Also, the chances to the climax were bullshit. She ended up having on part in her own rescue, nope, this time it really was the prince who saved her. I did not appreciate that at all. With that change they broke what didn’t need to be fixed. Was it so hard to just write the dog back in and have the climax go more similar to the original? *sigh*

Pro-tip Disney: When you try to make your properties my feminist, try to not go about that by breaking the feminism already present in them. Thank you very much.

But, oh well, at least this remake still had artistic merit to it and didn’t break the original completely. That’s more than I can say for the reimagining of...

Sleeping Beauty (1959)

Aurora is not this movie’s saving grace. Nope, not by a long shot.

The fairies are. All of them. Especially Maleficent.

Let’s get right into it, this is the only of the three movies where it isn’t the prince who’s the prop, but the Princess. Aurora isn’t an interesting character at all, she’s basically a female version of the prince from Cinderella. She exists as a prize for not just the prince, but the entire Kingdom to celebrate the defeat of Maleficent, and while that may sound troubling, there’s a reason why this movie definitely does not simply have a bias against its female character, and that reason is every single female character not named Aurora.

Yeah yeah. I can’t defend Aurora herself. Call this cheating. But really, neither Aurora, nor Phillip even get the majority of the screen time in the movie. They’re not the real protagonists here. Nope, the movie is REALLY about is the struggle of three brave fairies, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather, to put an end to the tyranny of the mighty, vindictive fairy Maleficent. Phillip’s story of reuniting with Aurora is a side-note compared to that.

The fairies are the reason this movie, THIS MOVIE, of all things, passes the Bechdel test. Let that sink in. Flora, Fauna and Merryweather make the movie. For the sake of defeating Maleficent’s curse, they have to give up their upper-class, immortal lives with the ability to magick up anything they want out of thin air, and learn to live as mortals instead, something they still are shown having trouble with sixteen years after the fact. It’s an interesting take on the traditional fairy godmother, and one I’m surprised hasn’t received more attention. It certainly helps that all three of them have such strong personalities and often clash. Especially the running gag of Flora and Merryweather both wanting to dress Aurora in their signature colors kept bringing a smile to my face. Flora is level-headed and strict, Merryweather is a worrier who is blunt and doesn’t always think her actions through, Fauna is sweet and reliable, but also a little slow when it comes to some things. I really enjoyed every scene with those three on screen, especially Merryweather’s reactions to her friends’ antics were gold. I often found myself laughing out loud, something many modern movies don’t manage to make me do. I’m sure, if I’d seen this movie as a kid, I would have come away forgetting about Aurora pretty quickly, but the fairies would have won my heart. Especially Merryweather. God, she’s amazing. I want her to be my friend and talk trash about politics with her. Though, she’d probably find my love for the color pink disturbing...

These three fairies are the true heroes of the movie, and their story isn’t about finding love and getting married. That’s never even remotely an issue. No, their story is about defeating one of their own, a fairy much stronger than them, first by outsmarting her, then by using the things she scoffs at against her. They’re pretty traditional heroes in that way, and I like it.Now, Phillip is a pretty cool hero too, but let’s face it. He’s basically the prince from Snow White again, except with more personality and more of a part in actually saving the girl. I’ll be honest, I probably liked this movie best out of the three, but it was definitely not because of Aurora and Phillip. It was all thanks to the fairies.

You know who that also includes? That’s right, Maleficent!

Oh my god, Maleficent. She’s just... Just such a perfect villain. Everything about her just oozes power. She’s like a force of nature. Someone who’s enjoys and relishes her own spitefulness and vindictiveness to the utmost. You love to hate her, but you love her for how much you hate her. She’s animated beautifully, and evokes fear every time she’s on screen. Truly the Mistress of all evil. Of course, she’s not exactly a relatable character, but she really doesn’t need to be. Not every person in the world is relatable. Some are just insane, and Maleficent is that kind of person. Unlike the Evil Queen, her motivation isn’t even a traditionally “feminine” one. She’s not just vain or a woman scorned, heck, it’s not even the traditional male motivation of world-domination. Nope, she’s just a really, really vindictive person with a lot of power who enjoys causing suffering.Basically, she’s Vladimir Putin as a fairy, except somehow even scarrier. That’s just amazing. It’s enjoyable to see her scheme and act like a lunatic, and it’s just as enjoyable to watch her get taken down in the end. Fauna, Flora and Merryweather may make the movie, but Maleficent puts the cherry on its top. She completes the package. A delightfully magical package.

The fairies were the best part about the original movie. So why did Disney decide TO MAKE A TERRIBLE MOVIE ABOUT THEM THAT RUINS EVERYTHING THAT MADE THEM AWESOME?

Why.

WHy wOuld yoU do THAT!?

Not only did they manage to waste a perfectly good life action representation of Maleficent (the few scenes in which she’s actually allowed to BE the actual Maleficent, rather than the diet version the rest of the movie ran with, Angelina Jolie really nails the role. It makes the rest of the movie even more painful.), they also took pretty much every single character from the original and turned them into unlikable assholes, INCLUDING the fairies.

Oh, Merryweather, what have they done to you, my dear. Please, forgive those foolish mortals, for they know not what they’re doing...

The first and immediate problem is that the entire movie is built on a fallacy: The idea that Maleficent was never given a motivation and thus needed one. That is, of course, bullshit. She already had a perfectly good motivation. Being a vindictive person. Believe it or not, there ARE people like that in the world. Denying that reality doesn’t make your movie any “darker”, it makes it more childish. Oh, but of course, the movie doesn’t deny that reality, it just makes OTHER characters evil and vindictive instead! How silly of me! Yeah, let’s rewrite the strong, powerful female villain who does what she does for no other reason than that she can into a poor, hurt puppy, who’s entire world-view was shaped by a man and an implied fantasy-rape, and also make her an all-loving mother-figure at it, the OLDEST female archetype in the book, then call that “progressive”! Ahahahahahahahaha. Meanwhile, they demonized the entirety of Aurora’s Kingdom by going with the old “Hoomans R evul” trope, which has been tired and overused since back in the 90s, then they rewrote some of the most interesting and fun female characters in early Disney film to become a trio of bumbling buffoons, incapable of tying their own shoes instead. OH AND THEY MADE MERRYWEATHER DUMB. THAT DESERVES SHOUTING. YOU CAN’T MAKE MY MERRYWEATHER DUMB, YOU MONSTERS.

The plot they came up with didn’t even make sense within itself. If Maleficent had a personal beef with Stephan because he was her ex, then why did she curse Aurora, and not him? Why do the three fairies listen to the king of they’re part of a different Kingdom? Why are the mores called a “Kingdom” if they’re outright stated to be a direct democracy? Why does Aurora become queen of the mores in the end when the mores are a direct democracy? Why did you go for the same friggin’ plot-twist as Frozen, when Maleficent is most definitely NOT the same character as Elsa? Why didn’t she go get her wings back much earlier if it was as easy as just sticking them on again? Why do the three fairies already consider Maleficent evil before the christening incident, if that was LITERALLY the first truly vindictive thing she’s done? WHY would you cut off the fairies’ gifts at the second one like the original movie, but then have Maleficent HERSELF weaken the curse, rendering the final fairy’s gift unnecessary?? Why were the three fairies still in the movie at all if you basically turned Maleficent into a composite character of herself AND THEM in the first place?? Why would you disgrace your own classic movie by having Aurora herself claim that the original movie is bullshit and THIS, lo and behold, is the true, canon story now? F**k this movie with all the forces of hell!

The worst thing about this whole fiasko is that a movie like that CAN work. It can work, with pretty much any female villain OTHER than Maleficent. This could have worked with the Evil Queen from Snow White. This could have worked with Lady Tremaine. Heck, this story would have worked A LOT with Mother Gothel from Tangled/Rapunzel. In fact, the whole thing was written like it was meant for Mother Gothel! For your information, in the original fairy tale, Gothel was a fairy who stole Rapunzel out of revenge for her parents stealing from her garden. She’s never described as ‘evil’ in the source material, she’s just a villain by virtue of her method of punishing the thieves. A plot-line like the one in “Maleficent” would have made a LOT more sense for Gothel, heck, even if you went with the Disney-version of Gothel a movie like this would still have made more sense for her than for Maleficent. So, why the hell did they do this movie with the one female villain with which it does NOT work?

Not everything can be turned into “Wicked”, Disney. Not everything is meant to be “Wicked”. You’ve had your go at “Wicked” with Frozen. Now, LET IT GO.

This movie is terrible. It’s not progressive, not feminist, and least of all a respectful take on its source material. It’s everything that’s wrong with Hollywood remake culture.The original movie wasn’t a cornerstone of feminist media, but its female characters were sure a heck of a load better than the characters in this glorified fanfic.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is: Disney. Stop hating your own Princess Movies. Some healthy self-awareness and a will to improve is good, but what you’ve been doing has been downright delusional. Your protrayal of female characters was never as incredibly terribad as you seem to believe it was. Take some pride in what you’ve done and strife to do even better in the future, without defiling your old work for the sake of being “progressshiiivvvvvv” (without actually being progressive.) If people want Disney Princess movies that feature the princesses (and queens) doing non-traditionally feminine things, there’s Tangled, Frozen and The Princess and the Frog, and the list is ever-expanding. We don’t need to go back and try to erase and rewrite the history that lead Disney to where it is now. That history is part of why they got to where they are now.

Don’t demonize the past. Look at it with the same critical eye you look at the present with, and then learn from it. Honor it and be thankful for what it can teach you.

(See the other entries into my Advent Calendar Series HERE. )

#Disney Princesses #Snow White #cinderella #maleficent #Sleeping Beauty #Neni Talks #Neni Essay #Neni's Advent Calendar 2017

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