#Sunny hopefully: oh wait this is how this person acts with every fucking piece of media they attach themselves to (neutral)

[angelmelon]

time to talk about well written female characters we cant be negative all the time

sorry account stalkers it is Not a leasebound character none of those characters are well written

its her <3

MY FAVORITE EVIL BUTCH LESBIAN

people take notes This is Taco. She is a Taco In season 1 she was the stupid random character. Sorta like Rocky BFDI?? Already this is great allowing your woman character to be gross and random and annoying this is one thing I love about object shows the character archetypes are pretty gender neutral

in the trailer for season 1, she befriends Pickle. They remain friends for much of the season. Pickle defends Taco, seems to understand her random phrases, and bonds deeply with her. There's hints throughout the season that there is something suspicious going on, though. For example, she injures his eye seemingly on purpose in the episode "Aquatic Conflict", after she reveals that she had arms the whole time, which she'd been hiding for most of the season.

Yeah uh turns out later on in the finale we learn that Taco was pretending to be stupid to further herself in the competition, and to be able to steal the million dollar prize. Her true personality is revealed to be a sort of fancy evil rich spy archetype. I love this so much. She also says here that she was never actually friends with Pickle. As we venture into season 2 though, this is shown to be a lie. Taco deeply regrets using Pickle, obsessively sending letters to him in apology. He never forgives her from any of these letters, as is his right. During season 2, Taco takes notice of someone else. Taco is not competing in the season, but she keeps her eye on the competition. She takes particular notice of Microphone, who feels alone compared to other contestants, being very loud and outgoing but never heard, and considered annoying by others. She sees someone she can "befriend"... in her own way, of course. She finds Mic, shows herself, and makes a deal with her to help her in the competition, for a split of the million if Mic wins.

Mic agrees to this, reluctant until she gets good results in the next episode. Taco has upheld her promise to help !ic in the game. Mic believes she has a good friend, though, the difference between Mic and Pickle is that Mic is much more quickly skeptical. At the same time, though, Mic does much worse things for Taco than Pickle has for her in the past. Her feelings on the matter are complex. On one hand, she wants to listen to Taco, because Taco has tangibly helped her and been a source of kindness and support, and, yes, for selfish reasons too. On the other hand, she clearly does not like many of Taco's tactics. While in our world, you could say that’s. Kind of bare minimum?? Like she doesn’t like Taco commiting crimes okay. In the object show world that’s oddly fucking moral 😭😭 since there’s some means of recovery in all object shows there’s at least Some Guys who think it’s ethical and partake in it like an average Friday activity. Anywho

In the episode "Alternate Reality Show", we get hints of Taco wanting to change. When the time machine portal opens and takes Lightbulb and Test Tube, Taco is shown to reach for the portal, looking very disappointed when it closes. Mic obviously wonders what the fuck that was about, but Mic dodges the question. She probably will never get the answer to this, honestly, and that KILLS me

Mic becomes worried soon that Knife is onto her and Taco. Though, Taco has history with Knife in season 1. Back then, he was a simple bully archetype. But, she hasn't watched hard enough, because he has changed. He still does things for himself, is still violent, and still self identifies as a jerk, but he isn't stupid. in the same episode as the time machine, his suspicions are confirmed as he follows Mic to one of her secret conversations with Taco.

The episode after this is one of my favorites; I love seeing both Mic and Taco just acting completely in their own self interest. They're so bad for each other I love it. Episode 13, "Mine Your Own Business", Mic and Taco try to recruit Knife now that he knows about them. Its pretty obvious he wasn't going to agree to this, though. "did my 'huh' make me sound interested??" Mic and Taco, throughout this whole thing, save Knife a couple of times in the danger of the cave they're in for the challenge, even securing his safety for him in the challenge. Rather than ally with them, he simply agrees not to tell anyone that Mic is working with Taco, though, this isn't for Taco at all.

Knife sees what is going on, and he doesn't like it. Another situation with Pickle, who he was close with just like Taco, but more legitimately, obviously. I think about this SO MUCH. In spite of the fact they were both acting out of selfishness, Knife is able to see what is happening and, rather than acting in his own interest and spilling the secret, he keeps it to himself to protect Mic, someone he doesn't interact positively with much before episode 11. I LOVE MY GIRL. MY SILLY SCHOOLYARD BULLY BUTCH LESBIAN. I LOVE YOU KNIFE. Anyway so Taco isn't exactly happy still. Episode 14 is gonna show her being fucking CRAZY. Taco is gonna become desperate to keep Mic on her side, and keep their coup safe.

The challenge derails into saving Fan from abduction by an alien ship, one that MePhone and most of the cast think is driven by the main antagonist, Steve Cobs, rather than the alien species, the Prime Shimmer, who was actually genocided by Cobs in the past, and trying to get one of their youth back from Earth, which Fan was unknowingly in possession of. Taco forms a horribly violent strategy, but repeatedly reassures Mic its going to be for the greater good. However, it results in her knocking out Fan, killing Test Tube, and in Mic bringing Fan down from the ship, pretending to have saved him. The contestants who were once annoyed by her cheer for her, but when Test Tube is recovered, she is rightfully angry, but nobody believes her. Taco’s words to Mic through her gain in this reflect her subconscious selfishness.

“See? This is why you listen to me, Mic. Delectable, isn’t it? Finally, a chance for some recognition, finally, I can finally—“

Microphone interrupts

“is that what you said to Pickle??”

I LOVE TACO’S WORDS HERE SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA. THERES SO MUCH DOUBLE MEANING HERE?? We don’t know what “I can finally” means in this context… I can finally win?? I can finally be noticed?? I can finally have a friend?? THE LINE DELIVERY TOO. LIKE. FUUUUCK SHE SOUNDS SO DESPERATE??

Top 10 saddest anime breakups

SMALL ASIDE I love the amount of characters in ii and other object shows who in spite of their gender are voiced by another gender, with minimal editing. I LOVE THE GENDER AMBIGUITY OF OBJECT SHOWS. Y’all I’m so close to going off the deep end and adopting an object kin label.

ANYWAY.

MIC’S SIDE OF THIS SAYS SO MUCH TOO??

“I thought I gained a friend. Turns out, I gained nothing.”

THE FUCKING. SYMBOLISM WITH THE GAIN. HOW ITS BOTH SYMBOLISM AND A SHITTY DUMB ASS PUN YALL THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING EVER.

AND. AND!!! THE FACT THAT THE GAIN JUST FUCKING SHOWED UP IN EPISODE 10. KNOWING WHAT WE KNOW NOW??? OOOOOOUGH HOLY SHITFUCK

THE GAIN IS LIKE. BOTH THE TOOL MIC IS HURT THROUGH AND THE MEANS SHE HAS TO FACILITATE THAT PAIN. PEOPLE SKIM OVER II2 13 TOO MUCH IN THIS FANDOM. TACOMIC BEING MUTUALLY HORRIBLE HURTS SO GOOD.

Anyway I’ve been typing this post in drafts on and off for 5 fucking days ii 15 and ii 16 analysis coming soon

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Dorothea

I can’t believe I’m back! It’s been a little rough these past couple of months but I’m happy to be writing again and hopefully will bring it back to my daily routine! Taylor released a new album so of course I had to write something! I hope you guys enjoy, it’s just a little silly thing.

“We are a failure.”

“We have five Grammys.”

“We are a failure with five Grammys.”

Gavriel snorted at the same time Lorcan threw a piece of paper at Fenrys’s head. Rowan simply sighed, resting his head against the table and letting out a deep groan.

“Why can’t we release the album with twelve songs?” He raised his head, looking at his bandmates. “Every single song we tried to write this past week was absolute shit. I don’t want to shove some lame ass song on our album because my aunt feels like we should have thirteen songs like the last two albums.”

“Yeah, sure.” Fenrys snorted. “Why don’t you go tell Maeve that?”

Vaughan chuckled, putting the drumsticks down and walking to the table where Fenrys, Rowan, and Connall were sitting. Lorcan and Gavriel both sat on the ground nearby, ripping out bad half-finished lyrics from some notebooks.

“We need a vocalist, that’s why he won’t do it.” Vaughan singsonged, sitting by Connall’s side. “We have been trying to write the songs together, why don’t we try something each one of us wrote separately?”

There was a beat of silence. For the five years the band had been together, every single song had been written by all the members. Sometimes two or three of them would do most of the work, but out of their thirty eight songs, there wasn’t one that didn’t have a contribution from all the members. Yeah, they would write their own songs, but it was never really serious or even meant to be used in an album.

And because they weren’t serious or meant to be used in an album, they were either absolute shit or fucking personal.

Rowan held in another groan.

Lorcan shrugged, getting up and sitting by Rowan’s side. Gavriel did the same, sitting on the table head opposite to where Fenrys was.

“Ok, who’s gonna go first?” Gavriel clapped his hands. “Fenrys.”

“Why me?” He squeaked.

“Why not you?” Connall butted in.

“Yeah, why not you?” Vaughan backed his boyfriend.

“Rowan, this is a mutiny against me.” Fenrys turned his head to Rowan, pouting like a child.

Both Rowan and Lorcan smiled sarcastically, and the latter said, “you are not the one in charge. If it was a mutiny, it would be against Rowan.”

“Who asked for the vulture to speak?” Fenrys asked, eyes narrowing at Lorcan.

“Just show us a goddamn song, Fen.” Rowan sighed, rubbing his temples. A few years ago, he had insisted for Gavriel to be the leader of the band. The older man had refused profusely, and Rowan only found out why when he started being the leader.

He was surrounded by adults who had the money and influence of gods but acted like children.

It was like being a mother but without the Mother’s day gifts. No advantages, really.

As instructed, Fenrys presented three songs for the group. And then Vaughan did. And then Connall, Gavriel, and Lorcan.

“I don’t know how to say this politely…” Connall started.

“They are absolute shit.” Lorcan finished.

“Shit is a compliment.” Rowan nodded, letting out a straggled laugh. He scratched the stubble on his cheeks, a small sense of panic rising inside of him. It wasn’t that Rowan was shy— he had let go of his shyness a long time ago—, but that didn’t mean he liked to go around advertising his personal ideas to the world. Some lyrics drafts should remain just that— drafts. Not everything was meant to be heard by everyone. Gathering some of his courage along with the knowledge that an acceptable song was an absolute necessity, he sighed. “I might have something.”

“What is it?” Gavriel said calmly at the same time Lorcan grunted. “You have something and you let us go through the torture of listening to Fenrys’s ideas?”

“You hurt my feelings like that, man.”

Rowan ignored both Lorcan and Fenrys, turning to Gavriel. “It’s about a girl.”

The room was dead silent.

Rowan knew he wasn’t really the dating type, much less the type to write songs about love, but the absolute silence was a little offensive.

“Ok…” Vaughan said, a scary smile on his face. “That came out of nowhere.”

“You can love someone?” Connall asked.

“You can feel emotions?” Fenrys deadpanned after his twin finished his sentence.

Lorcan snorted and Rowan saw Gavriel biting the inside of his cheeks. Absolute regret washed over his body immediately, but it was too late to back down.

Rowan tried to play it cool, keeping any emotions out of his face. He shrugged, opening a notebook and tapping a pen against it. “Not anyone I’ve seen in years. I don’t even remember her real name.”

The Cadre exchanged looks.

“When I was a kid my parents used to send me to this summer camp. From ages six to thirteen there was this girl who also went every single summer. She was a year younger, but we were friends. Barely talked during the rest of the year, maybe exchanged a letter or two.” He continued, eyes skimming through the lyrics in front of him. “Childhood crush and all. I know her name started with an A… Maybe an E? The counselors used to call her Dorothy, and I thought it was Dorothea. Called her that for two months until she corrected me. The nickname stuck between us, so yeah, Dorothea is all I have. I was thirteen when I stopped going, so she was twelve. Probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“Oh, that’s cute… Tragic young love and all.” Fenrys was smiling like an idiot, and Rowan rolled his eyes. He had never talked to anyone about Dorothea, not even his parents, not even when he was a kid. Life at home was shit during the whole year, but the summers? They were for late nights, swimming in the lake, running in the forest. They were sunny, and easy, and the few good memories he had from childhood. And she was in all of those memories— the girl and that fucking dog. Dorothea was the purest thing about his childhood, and he never wanted to have her memory stained by telling about her to his parents or school friends.

“Let me see this.” Vaughan said, taking Rowan’s notebook before Rowan could react. His friend’s pitch black eyes skimmed rapidly through the page, mouth opening slowly. “Holy shit.”

“It’s shit?” Lorcan asked.

“No, I mean holy shit as in this is amazing.” Vaughan looked up, brows raised. He passed the notebook to Gavriel, making both Lorcan and Connall move closer to read it too.  “You had this song for two years now according to the date on the edge of the page. Why didn’t you share?”

Rowan cleared his throat, regret just growing more and more. “We write every song together.”

“If every song you write is like this, then we should probably let you take care of this task from now on.” Lorcan said, taking the notebook and throwing it to Fenrys.

Fenrys’s was probably Rowan’s best friend. They knew each other for the longest, and even though Rowan would never admit it out loud, Fenrys was the closest thing he had to a family and his approval was important.

Fen raised his head from the notebook, dark eyes shinning as a huge smile broke his face in half. “We’re recording this. Today.”

Connall and Vaughan laughed, and Lorcan clapped Rowan’s back. “Good job, birdie.”

Rowan didn’t know exactly what he was feeling, but somewhere between absolute fright and excitement could probably describe it.

—————

“Rowan Whitethorn!” A female voice rang through the room, and every member of the Cadre winced.

“Your aunt is gonna kill you.” Connall said, face washed with fear.

Maeve Whitethorn was the scariest woman to ever walk this earth, and so Rowan didn’t think Connall was completely wrong about that.

And yet, when Maeve entered the room she was…

“What the fuck.” Fenrys blurted out.

Smiling?

“She smiles.” Fenrys loudly whispered to Lorcan, receiving a punch to his arm.

“You, my nephew, are a fucking genius.”

“Yeah, ok, what the fuck.” Vaughan asked from the drums.

“What did I do?” Rowan asked cautiously, afraid that his aunt had actually gone insane.

“Dorothea, that’s what you did!”

“People liked the song then?” Gavriel asked from the couch. “It was a filler song, but good to know that’s not forgotten.”

“Oh, you’re not understanding.” Maeve laughed. All the boys’ jaws went slack. “People are eating that song up. And I mean trending everywhere, top in every single chart… Everyone loves Dorothea.”

“But how?” Lorcan frowned. “We didn’t advertise it.”

“Because people love a real life story of love.”

With that comment, Rowan’s body went taunt.

What the fuck.

No one in the band had told anyone what the song was about, nor that it was a real thing. For all the world knew, it was just another song that the band wrote together. And that’s how it should have stayed. Rowan hated being the center of attentions, and hated even more when his personal life was the topic at matter.

Dorothea had been his secret for so long, and he really thought that the song would be a secretive way to tell the story to the world.

If people knew it was real, if people knew anything about it, it was obviously not as secretive as he thought it was gonna be.

Shit, Dorothea wasn’t even her real fucking name. There’s no way anyone could know that.

Unless…

“Wait, she heard the song?” Rowan blurted out, a mix of emotions making his stomach drop. That also wasn’t on his plans.

Fenrys’s eyes widened. “Dorothea came forward?”

“Holy shit.” Vaughan let out a nervous laugh. Connall put a hand over his mouth, and both Lorcan and Gavriel looked at Rowan.

The boys knew how Rowan wanted this song to go. Knew he didn’t want the real story to go around like this. Because when stories went around like this, people would start making theories, and harassing the girl, and just shoving themselves in situations that did not concern them. Rowan loved his fans, loved the world he was in, but he was also the first to admit how brutal it could be. It would only take one slip up, one fact about this girl that the media didn’t like, for the whole world to attack her.

Rowan tried to protect her from his fucked up life during childhood just to throw her to the sharks later on.

And yet, another part of his panic had nothing to do with the media and the fans. It had to do with her. What if she hated the song? What of she didn’t want that story to be told? What if she wished for a calm life where her presence would never be noticed by the media? Rowan couldn’t stop thinking about her reaction, if she had remembered him the first time she listened to it or if it took a while.

He felt like his own body was trying to suffocate itself.

Fuck, he was gonna vomit. Or maybe pass out. Shit maybe even pass out on a pool of his vomit.

Ok, that was disgusting.

“It wasn’t the girl who came forward, it was her roommate. Posted a video online and then boom! Global success.” Maeve said, not even noticing her nephew’s growing panic. “Wait, I’ll show you the video!”

Fenrys grabbed Rowan’s shoulder, sitting by his side on the couch as Maeve plugged her phone to the projector. Lorcan sat between Rowan and Gavriel on the couch, and Connall and Vaughan sat on the ground. All of them looked expectantly at the screen, waiting for the bomb to drop.

He was gonna see her again.

After sixteen years.

Shit, it was getting hot inside that fucking room.

The screen popped up, and a beautiful woman with green eyes and long dark brown hair showed up.

“That’s not her.” Rowan blurted out. She could have dyed her hair, facial expression changed over the years but… That wasn’t the girl he met during the summer. No, he would recognize her eyes anywhere, and they sure as hell weren’t green like his.

Maeve rolled her eyes. “I told you it was her roommate who came forward. Now watch.”

The video started playing, and the strong and excited voice of the smiling woman on the screen started sounding through the speakers. “Ok, so I was driving home the other day, listening to the new album of the Cadre when the song Dorothea came up, right? And I thought that it was a little strange for the Cadre to put a rerecording of a song on the album since they had never done it before.”

The girl started to walk around her apartment, excitement lacing every single word.

“But then I found out that Dorothea is not a rerecording. But that doesn’t make sense, because I was a hundred percent sure I already knew this story. I don’t know any Dorothea, and I sure as hell don’t know Rowan Whitethorn, so it made no sense that I already knew the story being told in the song.” The girl let out a laugh, entering a room inside her apartment. “For days I would listen to that fucking song and keep asking myself why I feel like I know it. It’s not from a book, a movie…”

She started pulling out a box from under the bed, smile widening.

“And so yesterday my roommate asked me to grab an old box of VHS under her bed when I saw this box.” She filmed a huge box in front of her, the lid barely containing all the photos inside. “And that’s when I remembered where I know Dorothea from.”

The girl laughed again, opening the lid and running her hand through the pictures. “I knew the story because she had told me years ago. Dorothea wasn’t her fucking name, it was her nickname.”

As if in slow motion, the brunette took out an old picture from inside the box. Rowan felt all the air leaving his lungs as he stared at it. The picture was a little blurry, but there was no mistaking it. It was eight year old him in swim trunks, his arm over the shoulder of a shorter seven year old blond girl. Her biking was pink and full of frills, her wet blond hair sticking to her shoulders. She was holding a small black puppy, the dog obviously trying to wiggle himself out of the picture. The both stood before the lake, smiling brightly, a bunch of teeth missing. The girl in the video turned the picture, and right there, written in a fading blue pen was what made the song so famous.

Dorothea and Roro and Toto. Summer of 2000.

The girl in the video turned the camera back to her, smile not leaving her lips. “She told me that the nickname was Dorothea because the counselors used to call her Dorothy. As in the Wizard of Oz. The dog’s name was Toto, and so she was Dorothy. But then, he understood it wrong and just called her Dorothea. And…”

“What are you doing in my room?” A sweet, soft, and low voice interrupted whatever the brunette was going to say. She let out a yelp, letting the phone fall.

And the screen went black.

The room was silent for a few minutes after the video was over.

“Well shit.” Fenrys broke the silence. “What are the chances of her being as beautiful as her roommate?”

Lorcan reached behind Rowan to hit Fenrys on the back of his head.

“We should put a gag in his mouth.” Gavriel sighed.

“Oh, kinky.” Fenrys smiled seductively and winked at Gavriel. If it weren’t for the absolute shock raging inside of him, Rowan would have laughed.

“Is there a video of her?” Rowan quietly asked his aunt.

She looked at him for a second too long before nodding. “Just a second, there might be one. She isn’t really one for the cameras, but I do think she showed up in a Halloween video.”

She wasn’t one for the cameras.

Shit, shit, shit.

She wasn’t one for the cameras and Rowan had made her existence global knowledge.

Maeve took a few seconds to try to find the video, smiling again once she found it.

“This is still fucking weird. Your aunt can smile.” Fenrys said, and Rowan was glad for the words. Everything was happening too fast and too slow at the same time, and Fenrys’s stupid comments were a good way of centering himself. Looking at his friend, Rowan realized that Fenrys knew exactly what he was doing. “I thought she had lost the ability when she was, like, five or something.”

“That would imply that Maeve was ever a child.” Vaughan whispered from the ground.

Connall snorted, and Lorcan tried to contain a smirk.

“Here it is!” Maeve announced.

As if the screen was a magnet, all the eyes in the room snapped back to it. They all watched the screen expectantly, and Rowan thought Fenrys was even bouncing on his seat.

A petite woman appeared, clad in a black dress that matched her pitch black hair and eyes. If Rowan wasn’t so distracted, maybe he would have noticed Lorcan’s low, and yet sharp, intake of breath.

The pale girl was in the middle of two taller guys, one with inky black hair with a crown on top of it, sapphire eyes contrasting with the blood red of his cloak, and the other one with golden blond hair under a pirate hat. The three of them stared at a tall woman dressed in what Rowan supposed was a reaper costume. The white blond hair and golden eyes made her perfect for the part.

“He’s a cunt.” The reaper girl said, picking her nails with a scythe Rowan wasn’t absolutely sure was fake. The girl behind the camera— the brunette that recorded the video that exposed the real meaning of the song, Rowan supposed— chuckled as the two other guys exchanged a humorous look.

The petite woman smiled, obviously in agreement with her friend. “He is, but that’s ok. Did Tam end our three year relationship, six hours before Halloween, through the phone? Yes. Were we planning on a couple’s costume and I was left like an idiot wearing an Evie O’Connell costume with no Rick? Yes. But that’s ok because I have…”

“Me.” That same low and soft voice filled the room again, and as if she was always the center of attentions, all heads in the video snapped to her. Even though she wasn’t on camera yet, Rowan could hear the smile in her voice.

The blond guy rolled his eyes. “You have a thing for dramatic entrances, Aelin.”

Aelin.

Her name was Aelin.

“Reason why I live, actually. But come on. Don’t I deserve a dramatic entrance when I look like this? I look rather fucking dashing as Rick O’Connell, don’t I?”

“She does.” The guy with inky black hair nodded towards the blond guy.

“Don’t encourage her.” The other grunted, shaking his head but obviously smiling. “If my cousin’s head grows a little bit more she won’t be able to pass through the door.”

And then, as if time itself had stopped that second, the camera turned to Aelin and all oxygen left the room.

“Fucking shit.” Connall breathed, and Rowan saw Fenrys’s jaw going slack from the corner of his eye.

In his defense, so did Rowan’s.

The woman— Aelin— was exactly what she had just called herself. Fucking dashing.

Golden strawberry hair pulled back into one of those high, terribly made buns, slightly tan skin, and bright blue eyes, Aelin was every inch dashing she claimed to be. The costume was exactly what Brendan Fraser had wore the majority of the movie, and hell if it didn’t fit her perfectly. Aelin had grown to be the most beautiful woman Rowan had ever seen, and he felt his heart doing laps inside his chest just like when he was younger.

Well, fuck.

“If she was Rick O’Connell in the movies I would have probably paid more attention.” Fenrys muttered, dodging another hit from Lorcan. “What?! Look at her. The girl looks like the offspring of an angel and a supermodel.”

Aelin grinned, straight white teeth biting her lower lip. “Thank you, Dorian. And, I don’t need encouragement, Aedion. I am quite capable of being narcissistic on my own.”

The girl with blond white hair chuckled. “You were supposed to be a reaper with me.”

Aelin fake pouted. “Elide, my dearest cousin,” Aelin said pointedly, eyes narrowing at Aedion. Elide, the petite girl dressed as Evie, bit her cheeks to keep a smile in. “Needed me. Put a crown on top of your pretty head and do a couple’s costume with your boyfriend, Manon.”

Dorian sighed. “I tried convincing her.”

Manon simply crossed her arms. “I don’t do couple’s costume.”

Aelin shrugged nonchalantly. “Pity.”

And then, much to Rowan’s absolute panic and fascination, Aelin turned directly to the camera. She was obviously going to talk to the girl recording, but Rowan could barely hear the words as her full face came into view. Aelin was beautiful, but Aelin staring straight at you? Breathtaking.

“Don’t you think it’s a pity, Lys?” Aelin asked innocently, but a smirk graced her lips.

The smile in Lys’s voice was obvious. “Oh, yes. A pity.”

Aelin smiled, turning to Elide with a raised brow. Her cousin gave a less vicious version of Aelin’s smile. “Such a pity.”

It was obviously some inside joke, because Manon grunted, rolling her eyes. “Are we going or not?”

Aelin rich laugh drowned the room before the video ended.

“Well.” Vaughan said after a few beats of silence.

“Well.” Gavriel agreed.

“Well.” Another voice came from the door, and Rowan had to keep a displeased grunt in as Erawan walked into the room. The man was smiling sarcastically, eyeing the frozen image on the screen hungrily. Aelin had thrown her head back, mouth half open as she laughed. “Would you be pissed if I asked her hand in marriage, Rowan? Quite a beautiful girl, your Dorothea.”

Rowan would have gotten up and punched Erawan if Fenrys hadn’t literally sat on his lap before he could do anything. His friend turned to Erawan with a smile on his lips. “Unfortunately, Ewew, I believe the lady in question must prefer to stick to humans. She doesn’t really look like the I-do-demons type.”

Despite the obvious tension in the room, Connall took out his phone and took a picture of Fenrys sitting on Rowan’s lap. Lorcan had his arm behind both Gavriel and Rowan, and Vaughan was sitting in between Rowan and Lorcan’s leg. “You guys look like a strange ass family. This is gonna be this year’s Christmas card. I’ll photoshop myself in.”

Lorcan snorted, shaking his head before looking at Erawan. “Let’s leave the girl out of this, alright? If any of us wanted to use her for advertisement, we would have contacted her ourselves.”

“I’m your PR.” Erawan smiled. He was, a fact that the whole Cadre regretted. All pf them waited excitedly for the day Erawan’s contract expired.

Maeve was hard and cold, Erawan was a straight up asshole. Not even his aunt could put up with him for long.

“A very unfortunate fact you never let us forget, Earwax.” Fenrys said, nodding diplomatically. “Very, very unfortunate.”

“I don’t want her involved in any of this shit.” Rowan finally said something, voice low and threatening. Just the thought of throwing his childhood friends to the wolves that surrounded his life made his stomach turn. “You are my PR, so do your job. Create a distraction, release some rerecording, book us some interviews… I don’t care, but I want the focus away from her. I don’t want her involved in anything, Erawan. I mean it.”

The room was silent, tension threatening to suffocate anyone who breathed deep enough.

To Rowan’s surprise, and some gratefulness, Maeve took a step forward. She unplugged her phone from the projector, and Aelin’s image disappeared. “I believe it’s better if we keep the girl out of this. She’s very low profile, private accounts on both Twitter and Instagram. Dragging her into spotlight might not be a good option, specially since we don’t know how she behaves, what it would do to the image of the band. We have a love story, let the fans speculate, do some theories. Everything will die down in a month and she’ll be able to continue with her life.”

For all her harshness, all her coldness, Maeve wasn’t a bad aunt. She started taking care of Rowan when he was fifteen, and although they never had a close relationship, Maeve knew how to help him whenever he really needed it. It was the reason why he asked her to be the band manager, despite her obvious dislike of the human race. She was smart, cunning, and, at that moment, was using both qualities to keep Aelin out of what would become a huge mess.

“If we bring her in, there is nothing to terrorize. Her personality will be real, not something fans can stipulate and mold to their liking. She’s young and private, throwing her to the media would be a carnage. Leave Aelin out of this.” Gavriel tried to resonate with Erawan, voice low and calm as always.

Erawan sat on a table, a fake hurt expression overtaking his features as he sighed. “If only you had told me that before.”

The pit inside Rowan’s stomach grew.

“Before what.” Vaughan grunted.

“Before I contacted the girl.” Erawan smiled, as Rowan felt all the oxygen leave the room. He stared straight into Rowan’s eyes, a cruel smile overtaking his lips. “Would you like to see your childhood friend again, Whitethorn?”

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Tags

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog @superspiritfestival @ireallyshouldsleeprn @woollycat22 @julemmaes @claralady @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @heirofthenightcourt @booksbqueen @heirofthrnightcourt004 @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass

[itsreddiebitch]

Family First

Summary: Emily Tozier knew one thing. Her father loved her as if she was his own. Yet, secrets and lies kept for years will push her into finding out the truth about her real father and his connection with Richie.

Chapter 1: Welcome To The Tozier Residents 

“Good morning Los Angeles! Another sunny day in beautiful So Cal. I am your hostess with the mostess Richie Tozier.”

“Ugh.” The groggy sound came from under the covers of the Tozier home. Up high beyond the trees woke a tired young teen desperately wanting five more minutes. She cracked one eye open at the alarm clock on her bedside table. The time six thirty was displayed on the clock, blinking rapidly. She closed her eyes and covered her head from the glaring sunlight bouncing off the apartment walls.

“Now before I get started with the morning line up I would like to tell my loving daughter to get her lazy but up before she is late to school. You know I love you sweetie but Mondays are not sick days.” The girl let out a louder groan before throwing the blankets from her body.

“Okay, okay. You aren’t even here Jeeze.”

“Love you Emily darling.” Emily could hear her father’s kissing noise over the radio clock. He always knew when to wake her up. Soon after the kissing noises faded, music began to play over the radio. Emily lightly tapped her cheeks before getting up. She made her way through the brightly lit bedroom into the bathroom. Before entering she picked up a photo of her and Richie. The picture captured the moment of her third birthday. Many people were around her but her father was the most important. He always kept her close and others far away.

Once in the bathroom Emily began combing her long brown hair, a striking difference compared to her father’s jet-black hair. To be quite honest, everything about her was different than her father. She was well mannered while he was all over the place. She had straight long hair whole his was curly a challenge to comb. Emily found that she would control what her father ate due to his high cholesterol. Regardless of their difference, they were closer than most. Her father was her rock, the only family she had ever known.

“Hello?” The sudden sound made Emily jump. Who the fuck was in her house? She ran to the bat by her bed and slowly walked out of her room. She took every step with caution. The apartment was over fifteen thousand square feet so there were many places a person could be hiding. Emily looked around the corner and saw nothing, she slowly entered the kitchen. The hardwood floors felt freezing under her bare feet. She looked around to see no one behind the marble counter or by the table. A sudden bang made her turn with her bat held high. A girlish scream held her back from swinging.

“Don’t hit me this nose is new.” Emily lowered her bat when she realized it was a blonde young woman. She looked to be in her late twenties, way too young for her father’s age. She was wearing a wrinkled party dress that smelled like alcohol. Emily rolled her eyes before setting the bat on the counter.

“I won’t hit you. I just didn’t realize someone else was here.” An awkward silence grew as the young blonde realized who Emily was.

“You must be Richie’s daughter.” Emily rolled her eyes. This statement was nothing new to her.

“In the flesh.” Emily continued with her day acting like the woman wasn’t there. She began to make herself some breakfast. She threw some eggs in a pan and waited until they cooked. The silence between the two girls was not new to Emily but she could tell the blonde was uncomfortable.

“So, you are in high school right?” Oh, she must really like him. Not many girls try to get to know Emily after a one-night stand. Emily kind of felt bad for the girl. Richie was not the committed type.

“Yeah, junior.” Emily finished cooking the eggs and began to prepare the toast. She placed two pieces of bread in the toaster before opening the cupboard to retrieve plates.

“That is a big year. Do you have a college in mind?” This girl was really trying. Most stopped after the are you in high school question. While this was not Emily’s first rodeo she never could hate the girls her dad brought home. Most of the time they were decent enough, she only kicked out the ones who were rude. Those usually left on their own though.

“Not yet, dads going to take me touring during spring break.” Emily separated the eggs onto two plates. Once the toast was done she wiped them with some low-calorie butter and gave it to the girl.

“Thanks. That is very sweet.” The girl smiled at Emily as if she had done something right.

“As much as I would like to chat I have school to get ready for. You can stay here till you finish. Do not leave the plate on the table rinse it and lay it out to dry. I am going to eat in there.” Emily pointed to her room before making eye contact with the woman. The blonde nodded in response. Emily began walking to her room but was stopped when the hopeless romantic spoke again.

“Do you think your dad is going to call me later?” Emily could tell the girl was hopefully.

“Where did you meet him?”

“The bar.”

“No.” Emily didn’t even look back to see the woman’s crushed expression. Instead, she walked into her room and continued to get ready.

An hour had passed and the one-night blonde show was gone. She did as she was told, the plate laid next to the sink drying. Emily gathered her keys and backpack she paused to send a text to her father.

“Next time warn me before you bring home Barbie.” She watched as the dots appeared at the bottom of the screen before Richie’s words appeared.

“Sorry kiddo, I’ll make sure to do that next time. ; D” Emily let out an amused scoff before putting her phone in her pocket. She made her way to the door but stopped to look at the dark wooden doors at the opposite side of the room. Richie’s office stood behind them. Since she was born she was not allowed to go into that room. For years and years, she dreamed about what could be in that room. A national treasure? A dead body? Maybe the dog she always wanted? Who knows. Richie wasn’t a scholar, he didn’t need an office anyways. Yet, every night he would close himself off from her to be in that room. Her phone ringing halted her thoughts. She looked down at the phone before answering.

“Okay, okay I’m coming jeeze.”

“Did you listen to your dad this morning?” Emily looked up at her best friend Kelly from across the lunch table. She had known Kelly since kindergarten. They traded juice boxes once and were tied at the hip since.

“How could you not? He was annoying the fuck out of Johnny Depp. It was great.” Alexa, the girl next to Kelly was another story. They became friends with her in the beginning of high school and Emily didn’t see their friendship continuing after. She had the hots for her dad which was creepy considering he was fifty-seven. “Like his comment making fun of why we need a Pirates of The Caribbean eight was spot on.” Emily rolled her eyes before commenting.

“Okay, chill with your obsession with my dad please.” Emily had told Alexa how much it bothered her but the girl never stopped.

“Oh come on how could I not? He is becoming a silver fox. It’s not like he is your real dad anyways.” Emily really wish she could stuff her salad in Alexa’s face. Kelly looked at Emily with concern. Everyone knew she was adopted. It was obvious she looked nothing like him but Richie loved her like she was his own.

“Yeah well it doesn’t matter. He is my dad and he is all I need.” Emily felt her heart sink at the lie she just told. If she was being honest she wanted to know about her real father and mother. Richie never told her about them, all he would say is that she wasn’t abandoned as a baby. He adopted her right away. Yet, how could she not be? When she was thirteen she saved up her money to do an ancestor test. She spent one hundred dollars to only learn she originated from England. It was not one of Emily’s best moments.

“Are you still looking for him, you know your real dad?” Kelly touched Emily’s hand to comfort her. Kelly knew what she was asking was hard. There were many nights where Kelly help Emily as she cried about who she was and where she came from. Emily smiled at Kelly before taking a stab at her salad.

“I am planning to ask my dad about it again. It is getting close to that time of the year.” Emily first noticed the pattern when she was five. There was a week-long period where Richie was at his worst. He would begin to smoke cigarettes and lock himself up in the office for hours at a time. He always made sure Emily was cared for. Nannies would be more frequent until she was old enough to take care of herself. However, she saw how in pain her father was and it killed her to never know the reason. It was as if someone died every year and he was grieving. They would be having dinner and then suddenly his eyes would cloud over. Richie would begin to cry and excuse himself from the table. He would lock himself in the office, he would lock himself away from Emily.

The rest of the school day past in a blur. Emily walked into the apartment smelling a one of her favorite meal. Chinese takeout. She looked at the dinner table to see a collection of take out boxes

“Will you forgive me?” She looked up to see Richie Tozier with his arms open. For an older man, he was fit. Many say he mastered the art of aging through botox or secret Asian face masks but he never used those things. When he smiled you could see the lines appear under his eyes and mouth. His hair was still black but would begin to gray here and there until he got it dyed. He was not the most attractive man but his personality made him a magnet towards women.

“You could have texted me before you left.”

“I know, I know I was running late. Those four am shifts can be killer. But..” Her father bent down on his knees in a dramatic display. He held Emily’s hand before wiping away fake tears. “Will you forgive me light of my life? The peanut butter to my jelly, the moon to my sun.”

“That depends.” Emily lowered her gaze towards the food on the table. “Did you get eggrolls.”

“I got all the eggrolls.”

“Okay, I forgive you.” Richie jumped up in celebration before giving Emily a big hug.”

“I love you so much Eds!” Emily felt his arms grow tighter around her. She almost couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t call me that.” Emily whined but felt her father stiffen. He moved away from Emily and placed his hands on her shoulders. She never understood why he gave her the middle name Ed. It sounded so stupid, Emily Ed Tozier. When she told him to stop it would always end the same way. She could see the pain in his eyes before he turned away. She knew it wasn’t meant for her, it was something he knew that she didn’t.

“Let us begin the feast!”

They continued the rest of the night eating and watching reality television. It was a nightly ritual of where they judged the lives they pretty much live. Her father did a morning radio show that woke her up every morning. When he isn’t annoying people over the radio, he is annoying them on talk shows and comedy skits. He may not be as rich as some of the reality stars but Richie and Emily were more than comfortable. They had lived in the apartment for ten years now. Many people asked Emily why her father never bought a house. She would always shrug and say he wasn’t a fan. Yet, she never really knew the whole reason. Emily never met her grandparents. They lived in California but seemed to only want Richie when he had money to give. Her father said it was best she never met them since they were anything but friendly. She never questioned him.

“Hey, dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot my darling.” Emily hated his little nicknames almost as much as when he called her Eds. She didn’t react this time because an overwhelming sense of nerves took priority.

“I was wondering, now that I am older. If I could learn more about my first parents.” She made sure not to say the words real. The room went silent other than the bickering of the reality stars. They were fighting over some shoe deal that the other sibling stole.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I just, want to see what they are like. I’m just curious.” The girls were screaming on the television now. The camera angles focus on their movements.  

“I thought we discussed this before.” His voice lost the cheerful tone it use to have. Emily felt her breathing hitch.

“Not really. You always change the subject and I really think we should talk about this seriously.” The reality stars were fighting on the floor now grabbing each other’s hair.

“Are you not happy with your life?”

“Of course I am Dad. I just want to know who my parents were. Even a picture would help.” Emily could tell that help was not the right word. Richie got up and placed the plate in the sink loudly. It caused the plate to break.

“Shit.” He muttered to himself as he began to gather the pieces and throw it in the trash.

“Dad please.”

“No, Emily we are not talking about this right now.”

“Then when? Give me a time. Give me a date.” She watched as her father began putting the food away. She realized he would shut her out soon.

“I can’t give you a date okay. Those people do not matter. I raised you and if you cannot accept that then we have a bigger problem to deal with.” He began to raise the sleeves of his long sleeve tee. Emily watched the cotton sleeve lift to reveal the tattoo that he tried to hide from her. His forearm displayed dark black letters spelling out loser. They were not neat, it was as if a child wrote it. The s had a sharp red v trying to change the word to lover. It was a tattoo that Emily had seen before but not fully. It would slip if he was doing the dishes or rubbing his arm. It was the only tattoo he had and it had meaning. A meaning Emily needed to know.

“What about this?” Emily grabbed his arm, letting the light shine on the dark ink. “You let these women see it but you won’t tell me what it means?” I have a right to know I’m your daughter.” Emily felt tears beginning to fall as she looked up at her father for answers. She was tired of not knowing, she was tired of being in the dark. Her father looked just as hurt as she did. He looked like he was caught up in a mix of emotions she couldn’t describe. His mouth opened as if he was going to explain it all to her. She felt a surge of hope before it died in her stomach as he closed his mouth. He turned away, heading towards his office.

“Another time.”

The doors slammed behind him making the wall between them that much thicker. She thought she knew her father she thought they were close. Yet, as she got older and more questions passed without answers, she felt like she was losing the only family she had. Emily ran to her room. She closed the door and slid down the back of it. She let herself cry before looking at her phone and dialing Kelly’s number. This wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.

[mfmagazine]

Derby

Article by Justin Ross

“Isaac, you’re hat looks really good,” Derby vocals/guitarist Nat Johnson quips into my Pearlcorder S710. “I love the people that, um, when speaking publicly, have to talk into whatever device is picking up sound,” drummer Isaac Frost retorts, mouth close enough to the mic to create a buzz in the recording. We’re sitting in a pub in Portland, Oregon, discussing the new album over a few drinks, and Derby certainly is creating a buzz. With the release of their debut album “This Is The New You,” the band has achieved something special. Sunny guitar licks reminiscent of The Beatles and Elliot Smith, cascading rhythms, and sweeping, wistful vocal harmonies, this is the type of music that you would feel fresh starting the morning to. Which makes sense, seeing as how guitarist Dave Gullick is a self-acclaimed “morning person.” “I would wake up in the morning, and I’d work on different songs before heading off to work. I’m definitely a morning person, for sure. I make coffee and just get geeked out on that and Nat would come in at night and just go make stuff, change things up and say ‘Hey try this out.’ I don’t really like working at night.” Derby, comprised of Dave Gullick (vocals/guitar/Rhodes/organ), Nat Johnson (lead vocals/guitar), Isaac Frost (drums), and recently acquired bassist Wayne Miller (who could not make the interview), have an easy going camaraderie integral to the cohesiveness of their sound, which seems rare for a band. Their manager Barbara Mitchell (who’s worked with such bands as The Posies and Death Cab For Cutie) had this to say: “[This band] has a way of integrating things that a lot of bands never figure out how to do. They write these absolutely great pop songs that have weighty lyrical vocals, but there’s no whiplash involved. They have it figured out in a way that I’ve rarely seen in other artists, in terms of internal dynamics and how everything flows together. They’re just so grounded. With the combination of talent and personality colliding where they trust each other enough and not feel threatened or competitive, it makes my job easier. I’ve been working in music for, well, way too long, and I’ve never been as excited about working with a band, even in the early Death Cab days. I think they’re more grounded and have a better sense of what they want to do, what they want to accomplish, and how they want to communicate things. I really feel so lucky, and I’m not just saying that because the tape is rolling.” Naturally, I was curious, as to how they met and when they formed. Nat: Dave and I started this as an acoustic act about three years ago. When we say we started, it was Dave and I with a bunch of our songs, playing a few coffee shops and little shows here and there. I consider our first show as our actual start date, because it wasn’t something that happened as an accident, we were like “this is what we want to do, but we’ve got to start somewhere.” Really, as we know it, as it appears on an album, Derby has been alive for two years. It [started] as a three piece. We didn’t have a bass player or anything like that. We would just do our thing, whether it was a regular rock show, or a glorified acoustic version. Legitimate Derby began at the beginning of this year. January 1st Wayne joined us, and we released the album in February. It’s funny when people come up to the stage and say “Oh you guys are this, that, I really enjoyed the show, how long have you guys been playing for?” and that seems to be one of the most common questions we field at the end of a show, and I like saying “Oh, what’s the date? It’s June? Oh, well, six months and twenty-six days.” Dave: I actually met Nat freshman year in the dorms. We just became friends with similar tastes in music. Actually, after college, we finally started playing seriously. Isaac: I was going to Oregon State, and I was playing with a band down there, and (Nat and Dave) did a show down there and I thought “Man, these guys fucking rock.” Then they came back, and we did another show with them, and they had a drummer, and they were playing electric. Was that the first time you guys ever played electric on stage? Nat: Yeah, that was the first time, and I was like “Holy shit, volume!” Isaac: I was like “Oh sweet, they got a drummer,” and I started talking to them after the show and they were like “Oh, he’s not actually our drummer, he’s our bassist.” Nat: Bruce never actually played bass with us, that’s the funny thing. Isaac: Yeah, I had just graduated and moved up here, and started playing with them. It just felt right. It wasn’t like it was an audition; it just evolved into “Do you want to do a show with us?” And I was like “Yeah, I’d love to play with you guys,” So we kept playing shows, and well, I think I’m the integral drummer. Nat: (laughing) Yeah, we haven’t given him the gold stamp yet. The first show you played with us was awful. Not that you were awful, but we were just, well it was just great to have a drummer, who’s a really good guy, which is important to us, because, from the beginning, Dave and I were playing rock and roll with just total assholes, and like, wow, a guy that was pretty straight up, and he liked what we were doing. It’s not like he was all (Nat affects his best too-cool hipster sneer) “I play drums. What do you play?” He was really interested in our music. How would you describe your songwriting process? Nat: That involves, in a positive sense, defined individual roles, in every facet, like business, music, whatever. But I think the initial conception, 90% of the time, comes from Dave. So Dave’s the man, huh? Dave: No, no, no. The cool thing is that we come up with songs or ideas that have completely different vibes, and Nat just helps me hash out songs. It’s truly at a point where I can bring something to the table, and Nat just helps me mold it. Nat: We have a little Derby music pressing factory. It goes: Dave starts with a loosely created idea, and brings it to me. My mind works in a more analytical sense of thinking big about how we could put 8000 parts together and structure it. Which is nice, because we don’t try to step on each other’s toes, I just try to do my job and he does his. So he pushes this idea through me, I process it, and spit it out and say “Alright, band. Let’s see what we can do with it.” Isaac usually steps in around Phase 3 of the process, and we start hashing out the drums together. It’s not like one person has the right idea. We want to make the song that sounds the best to all of us. So it’s more of a democracy? Nat: It is. Everyone has veto power. Isaac: Yeah, we’ll get together as a group, and start playing, and maybe Wayne or I will say “Hey why don’t we try it this way, maybe it’ll sound better.” So it’s not like we’re sitting there having to do what they tell us we have to do. Nat: Yeah, I can play drums, but I’m not a drummer. I can perceive what it’s supposed to sound like, and its close, but when Isaac actually does it, we’re like “That’s it.” Dave: The cool thing is that we’re coming together and the dynamic’s getting tighter. It’s really positive. I was going to note on that. You guys have these sunny melodies that stand in stark contrast to this overcast, rain-filled city Bush Sr. once tagged as “Little Beirut.” I guess it seems to me it would be easier to be negative and pessimistic living in this environment. What keeps you guys grounded? Nat: I think when we play music, it’s really fun, and that fuels itself. Even if we’re sitting alone and depressed and writing something with more of a somber topic, well, we’ve yet to write the ultimate heartbroken “I just got shit on destroyed” song, but it’s really about the music for us. I think the music itself allows things to be a little bit sunnier. We set it up in a situation where we live in a house together, and it wasn’t “Alright, boys, pressure’s on, you got twenty hours in the studio to be creative, now, be creative.” We, together, felt, “wait, I feel something, I’m going to go down in the studio now and work on something. It was something very organic and cohesive with us. It was a vision we all created together. I think it’s a good one. It’s optimistic, almost a wide-eyed, wake-up feel-good sound, but not in a naïve way and I think that’s refreshing. Nat: Yeah, part of it is, none of these songs, and hopefully never, will we write a song because it’s what we think someone else wants to hear. In that sense it keeps that sense of honesty where we’re not pretending to be something we’re not. I mean, I write the songs I want to hear, and play the songs we want to hear, and I think if we stick with that, we’ll be fine. A lot of people, as we’ve learned over the last couple of years, obviously don’t realize that they just need to be themselves, and it will be okay. It would come out the way it should. What do you guys think of the Portland scene in general? Dave: There’s so much going on. We know a lot of the bands in Portland, but there’s so many out there where people are like “Have you heard of so-and-so?” and it’s like “No, we’ve never heard of them.” I think that’s great. Nat: But the quality is insane. We go out, and we play other towns, and we get good shows, hear about the bigger bands, and its like “Alright.” Maybe it’s because we live here and have access, but there’s so much good music in this town. And it’s not a joke that every single person plays guitar in Portland, or some instrument. Everybody, everybody plays music. It’s like, you go over on the East Side, and it’s like “Oh, which band are you in?” Everyone plays music, and therefore, you’re going to see some good stuff. This town accepts music, and the crowds are cool. I don’t know, I think we all feel it. We haven’t moved. It feels right here.