Being A Writer Is Hard, What Do You Mean I Can Write The Most Beautiful Poetry And Flawless Texts Marvelous

Can we just all agree that mathematically speaking it's clearly 1? Did y'all pay even an ounce of attention in class or did u just eat ur eraser? 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Today I found myself reading TMI again after being done with studying (ugh, whoever invented exams can burn in hell) and I feel like I keep running out of ways to explain how incredibly copy pasted and close I feel to Alec. Like, yes sure, I love Izzy with every inch of my soul and don't I wish I was like her and Magnus is just such a me vibe in my best days. But Alec has always been my focal point every single time I read Cassandra Clare, and every time I expect to find myself being like "oh shut up" like I often find myself doing when Jace talks, even Clary sometimes, but I just don't.

I find it so unbelievable how the first time I read City of Bones I was around three years younger than Alec in that book and I just couldn't help but think "He's real". Because miss m'am Izzy was killing demons in high heels at sixteen and Jace probably had more girlfriends than I have hair on my head and there was Alec. Trying to beat sense into them, being discarded by Jace the moment Clary came into view. His only friends being his own sister who was his complete opposite and his parabatai who way too foused on being cool than on his own struggles, him trying to hide himself from the Clave out of pure fear that they would exile him and just abandon him in a world full of demons as a mundane like they did to his uncle.

He was the secondary character. The fifth wheel of the cart, as we say in my family. And I could relate to that, because being on the outside and looking on the inside, being aware that you're not enough is something that i've found myself doing all my life ever since I was a toddler. Not too fun. Not too cool. Not too smart. You're just in the middle of it all. Never enough to stand out. Just a blank paper. And I just felt this ache in my heart when I finished that book years ago and I still feel it every time and this boiling rage knowing that this man stood bravely against it all. The fact that he played such an important role in the war, almost as important as Jace and he was still seen as "Jace's parabatai", when this man genuinely changed the law and rebuild every belief of the Clave to make it more humane.

There's just enough words in the dictionary to how many levels I love Alec and to how many levels I am grateful to Cassie for writing him, because who would I violently and brutally relate to if it wasn't Alexander Gideon Lightwood, the Inquisitor of the Clave and the man who loved a man so much he changed the world for him and Magnus's archer boy.

Don't mind me, just crying over this.

Also, I just called the new random brown cat with blue eyes that showed at our house one day is now ours, Malec.

Felt cute, might call my future children Alec, Stupid and Nephilim although my therapist told me that I'm projecting and that's not a good idea.

“Alec?“ Magnus was staring at him. He had dispatched the remaining Iblis demons, and the square was empty but for the two of them. “Did you just- did you just save my life?”

Alec knew he ought to say something like, Of course, because I’m a Shadowhunter and that’s what we do, or That’s my job. Jace would have said something like that. Jace always knew the right thing to say. But the words that actually came out of Alec’s mouth where quite different- and sounded petulant, even to his own ears. “You never called me back,“ he said. "I called you so many times and you never called me back.”

Magnus looked at Alec as if he’d lost his mind. “Your city is under attack,” he said. “The wards have been broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven’t called you?”

Alec set his jaw in a stubborn line. “I want to know why you haven’t called me back.”

Magnus threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation. Alec noted with interest that when he did it, a few sparks escaped from his fingertips, like fireflies escaping from a jar. “You’re an idiot.”

“Is that why you haven’t called me? Because I’m an idiot?”

“No.” Magnus strode toward him. “I didn’t call you because I’m tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I’m tired of watching you be in love with someone else - someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do.”

“You love me?”

“You stupid Nephilim,” Magnus said patiently. “Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge!” 

everything in this life is temporary. except that fandom hyperfixation from when you were 14. that thang will be with you forever there's no escaping.

a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on

OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG. LOVE IT

Alec Lightwood-Bane, my archer boy 🏹

[Tap for better quality]

@cassandraclare

I mean, thinking about it, all my respect goes to the people that are capable of admitting when they're wrong. Arguing is sadly one of my best talents apart from being an overthinker, so it's crazy to me how some people just swallow the fact that they're wrong.

Miss, I'll research everywhere, in every hole that the ground has to prove to you that there is a slight chance that I might be right.

How we look, asking Cassie for another KitTy crumb after starving for months