#prolly cuz i’ve never written him before

[yukimiyaz]

COME INSIDE (AND HAVE A BITE)

isagi yoichi x gn!reader

inlcudes: vampire isagi. boyfriend isagi. reader being a little shit for like the first half lmao. mentions of blood/drinking blood. suggestive. use of the word pretty once. probably ooc isagi i’m sorry :’)

notes: idk. this idea has been eating me alive. needed to share

Sometimes, as the sun is setting and you are finally slumping into the soft—arguably run down—cushions of your couch, you like to reminisce on the past you, who had the luxury of experiencing simple, relaxing nights after a long day of work.

When you would come home and kick your shoes off in the doorway. Slide your tired feet across the semi-stained hardwood (that you’re still convinced is fake, despite your landlord’s promises) to the bathroom to scald your skin in the shower for however long you felt like. Not caring for how you looked, throwing on the first article of clothing you’d find, and traipsing your way into the kitchen. To find dinner—or sometimes give up on that endeavor and eat the freezer burnt ice cream, or just order in cheap takeout instead—and plop yourself where you are now. Watching some old drama or drowning out the news until you inevitably pass out on your worn out couch. And you were content with that, honestly. It was fine. It was—

“Aaghhh!”

It was peaceful bliss, compared to the torment you now face per diem.

Everyday like clockwork, as soon as the sun sets over the horizon and dusk seeps in, the neighborhood stray comes to your doorstep for a visit. Wailing, baying; clawing at your door like he’s demented and disturbed. 

As you blow out a sigh and heave yourself off of your cushions, you conclude those two words are actually perfect in describing him. 

It only takes a few seconds for you to stride to your front door, and only half of one for you to sling it open. The sight you’re greeted with is familiar—near identical to yesterday, and the day before that (and the day before that), save for a different pair of clothes—and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at it. 

Isagi sits on his knees, hands suspiciously close to your threshold and fingers obviously charred. His head snaps up at your appearance and he wipes the ash off his fingertips, revealing pristine, flawless ridges once again. Peering up at you through his eyelashes, timid smile twitching his lips, you almost forgive him for his disturbance on sight. 

Almost. 

“Isagi,” you greet, making sure the exasperation is obvious in your tone, even if your chest swells with endearment. “Evening.”

“Good evening,” he addresses, immediately, and his smile beams out now. Fangs peeking over the plump of his bottom lip and gleaming in your warm porch light. “You look tasty—I mean pretty.”

“Strike one,” you deduce. “Wow, not even a minute in and you’re already soiling your case.”

His smile cinches into a pout, but it isn’t primarily dejected. “Hey, no fair! There’s nothing wrong with honesty. And you do look so…”

His voice trails off as his eyes trail down you. From your bare face to your socked toes, then back up again; pausing at your throat that is freshly exposed due to your shirt’s stretched out neckline. At the fading marks that prove his twisted existence in your life. This time you don’t fight the urge to roll your eyes, and follow suit by snapping your fingers inches in front of his face. He must be extra desperate tonight, he’s usually off of his knees by now.

“Sorry,” he breathes as he comes to, “What were we talking about?” 

“Strike two,” you sigh, and take a lean against your doorframe. “You’re just determined to strike out early tonight, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I’d be more inclined to win if you didn’t use fucking baseball..” he grumbles, but stops himself from continuing when he sees your eyebrow raise. “I mean, you know soccer’s my favorite. Why can’t you use that?”

You consider him, mull over this fact that you are well aware of (if the endless documentaries he’s bored you with in his living room or games he’s shushed you for on the bar television are anything to go by), and hum. You suppose you could grant him this, just this once. Give him a little bit of leeway in this perpetual cat and mouse game. Tipping your head to the side, you slant a shoulder in half of a shrug. 

“Alright,” you concede, “You have a yellow card. One more, you’re out of the game.”

And it’s almost sick, how his fangs catch on his crooked grin. How you can practically see the saccharine venom swirling behind those deep blue irises. A lesser person might have already fallen for this by now; would have given in months ago when he first showed up on their doorstep begging for entry with those glossy eyes and sweet preens. 

A lesser person might join him down on his knees, but you’ve come to take quite a liking to this view. 

“How was work?” he asks, like he cares. Like he doesn’t already know by the slump of your posture against the entryway. “Rough? Draining?”

“Hm. You could say that.” And you indulge him, don’t poke notice of his word choice like you aren’t aware it’s deliberate. There’s something different about him tonight, something… enticing. 

“Ah, draining,” Isagi nods, leans back on his hand. His eyes shift downwards, to the welcome mat that cushions below him, to the worn out divots he has slotted himself into. “I know all about that feeling, you know. Draining is…”

A glint, a gleam, there’s something damn near chilling that flashes under the delicate shade of his lashes as he flicks his gaze back up to you. Your stomach swoops, you shift on your feet. The need to shut your door scratches at the base of your neck, and you aren’t entirely sure why. 

What is so different about the stray cat’s baying tonight?

“Draining is my field of expertise. But you’re well aware of that already, aren’t you?

How uncouth of him, how taunting. Your throat bobs with a discreet swallow but it’s so hard for things to go unnoticed under such keen vision. It’s like the side of your neck is searing, like those faded marks littering your skin aren’t so healed after all. 

“What’s wrong?” he presses, and he finally rises off of his knees now. Stands to his feet in such a fluid motion you wonder if he’s floating. (A possibility, technically, but you think Barou’s gotten on his ass enough that he wouldn’t try it in such a public place). “Bat got your tongue?”

He’s so close. His cool breath fans against your cheeks and you just now realize how chilly it’s gotten with the lack of daylight. Suddenly your sleep shorts seem thinner than you remember. You wrap your arms around yourself to rub at the bumped flesh and do your best to seem unbothered—unperturbed. 

“Funny,” you scoff, but you’re starting to lack your bite. Maybe you can blame the long work week, the fact you had to stay up later than normal last night to finish some things up for your boss. 

One glance to Isagi’s face tells you that no matter what explanation you try to pass off, he’s already calculating that the probability of its truth is zero. 

How unnerving. 

“I know.” And he smirks, now. Curls his lips up in the way he knows drives you crazy and leans his arm beside your head; careful to avoid getting too close to the dreaded threshold. 

(You don’t miss the subtle glare he throws down at it, though).

“Hey, you know what else is funny?”

“What?” You mumble, half-irritated and half-enthralled. You know he knows both sides of that, you know he indulges in it. 

That’s what you’re counting on. 

“Chigiri thinks you’ll invite him over to watch the new Scream when it comes out on rent. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“I plan to.”

“He’s been talking about it all week and he even said he was bringing snacks. I told him it was pathetic how he—Wait, can you run that back by me?”

“I said I plan to,” you repeat yourself, plainly. “We’ve been talking about it for weeks.”

Isagi blanches. “But he’s a vampire.”

“Obviously.”

“He drinks blood. Human blood.”

“No, really?” Feigning a gasp, you place a hand over your heart. 

“He—he’s a life draining monster!”

“Please, the only life he’s draining is his social one by staying home and babysitting you all day.”

“That’s—“ He puffs up, like he wants to spit out a rebuttal, but stops himself. He redirects; steers back to his initial point. You’re impressed with how quick he collects himself, honestly. “That’s unfair! You say I can’t come in on ‘mortal safety principle’ but invite the count? He’s killed way more people than I have!” 

“I thought body count didn’t matter, Yoichi,” you tip your head at him, bat your eyelashes like a porcelain doll, “Isn’t that what you used to always tell me?”

You know you’ve got him when he starts to sulk. It’s never in a normal way—nothing about Isagi Yoichi is normal. His jaw is clenched and his lips are jutted but his eyes are dancing like he’s enjoying this. 

“Let me in.”

You feel the tug, the tingle inside your brain. The asshole is actually trying to use his mind games on you; the fucking jerk. Not that it works with a threshold in the way, Chigiri told you that early on. Learning the rules and lack thereof was crucial upon discovering one of your closest friends was a vampire. And became even more so when you started dating—courting—one yourself. 

“Mmn, don’t think so,” you shrug. 

Isagi hisses (not necessarily at you, but just in frustration) and you don’t even flinch. It’s hard to be caught off guard by a daily routine—even if this one is beginning to fall off kilter. 

“Lemme in,” he slurs, and the pressure inside your skull dissipates. 

No tweaks, no tricks, no compulsion. Just wide eyes and slumped shoulders and a whiny voice that he thinks will help him get his way. He’s strategic, he always has been. He’s playing you even when he’s innocent. 

There’s always a millennia old card up the tailored sleeve of Isagi Yoichi. 

“Why should I?” The question isn’t new, you’ve been known to prick and prod at him to draw this out. To keep things exciting. To make him think he has a chance of being let in for the very first time. 

But tonight, you’re genuine in your delivery. You just hope he can pick up on it. 

“I’m hungry.”

“Oh? So I’m just a meal ticket for you?”

An imaginary yellow card weighs heavy in your hand, you wonder if you should go ahead and hold it up. 

“You know that’s not what I—“ cut off by his forehead slamming into the invisible barricade as he tries to lean in closer to you, he draws back with another low whistle of air slicing through his fangs. “Fuck.”

It’s instinct, how you reach your hand forward, across the security of the threshold, to swipe your thumb over where he’s been singed. It’s already healed (it was within a second of him pulling away) but you’re kind enough to swipe the char away regardless. 

“Then what, Yoi?” 

He softens under your touch, grabs at your hand before you even have the chance to pull away. He keeps it close, slides it along his temple, his cheek, his lips. He pauses there; falters. Mouth slotting open, the  tips of his fangs skim the plump of your palm then dip—down to your wrist. To where the rhythm meets the surface. 

“I miss you.” He just saw you yesterday. “I want you.” He tells you this diurnally. “I need you.” 

He yearns, in a way that is new to you. 

Your boyfriend must be evolving before your very eyes. He’s delicate in his demeanor but deliberate in his delivery. Even now, as his fangs skim across the thin skin of your inner wrist, they do not press in. They do not break and they do not prod. They retract, and are replaced by the plush of lips as Isagi peers at you with a zealous gaze. 

It is mindful, and not hasty. 

“Will you invite me in?”

He’s asking like he already knows the answer. Like he has no doubt of what will come. You wonder when such an ego filled him—or maybe it has always been there. Maybe, he was simply waiting for the right moment to release it. Maybe, he was hiding it away, to use it for his advantage when the time proved to be right. 

Maybe, you find that hopelessly endearing. 

“Yoichi.”

“Yes?” 

He’s hanging onto your every word with pleading eyes and fervent apprehension. But his confidence is still oozing. You wonder how so much essence can inhabit a single man. You discern it must be all the centuries he has under his belt. 

“Would you like to come in?”

The answer isn’t verbal, it isn’t spoken. No, the answer is brash and boorish and downright primitive. But for once you don’t think you can find it within yourself to mind all of that because in response to your invitation Isagi is shooting forward. Stumbling you backwards a few steps and cupping a hand on your hip and the other at the base of your throat. Thumb pressed to your jugular, he wastes no time in surging forward. 

But not for a bite. 

His lips hit yours and you gasp. It dusts you with chagrin, especially as you feel a toothy grin mold to your mouth and press deeper. Isagi is not one to waste time, is not one to lag unless it plays into his schemes. And that proves true even now as he wastes no time in drawing your mouth open. Squeezing at your side and humming into your touch until you give in. Not that you ever need much convincing, in times like this. 

Your arms find their way around his neck. Your hands find place slotted into his hair. It’s unintentional, how you tug, but it rewards you with a throaty groan regardless. Isagi’s lips part from yours and you think it’s because he’s taken into consideration that one of you still needs to breathe. Instead, it’s to bark out an order. 

“Fuck, do that again.”

You hearken to him and obey with a tug. Not because he forced you, but because the heaviness of his eyelids makes your stomach grow hot. He slams his lips back to yours and he kicks the front door shut. You forgot it was even open still. You forgot the part of you that cared. All that mattered now was Isagi, inside your home. Isagi, pressing his lips to yours like he wishes he could suck wine right out of them. Isagi, slamming you up against the hardwood he just closed.

“Shit, sorry, I—“ he isn’t, sorry that is, but he is breathless. And hot. And mind numbing. You nod your head—you’re not sure for what (to dismiss him? Say it’s okay? Just because you’re already out of it?) but it doesn’t seem to matter to him regardless. 

He takes heed to your every move. Your every twitch and hitch and cinch of breath. He’s so plotting, so inceptive. His hand finds its way from your hip to the back of your thigh as he hoists you up. And you let him. Let him slide you up the door and wrap your legs around his waist and press himself into you because it feels good, to have him here. 

His lips leave yours again and you nearly whine. What the fuck has gotten into you, you don’t know, but you don’t think it’s all that relevant at the moment either because Yoichi’s lips are trailing across your cheek, down the ridge of your jaw. He makes it to the meat of your throat and his hand shifts, slides to cup your chin and tilt your head to the side. You follow his lead, melt into his grasp as he presses hungry kisses to your heavy thumping vein. 

“Can I?” He asks, and you’re already nodding before he can even finish. You aren’t even entirely sure of what he’s asking, what he’s wishing for permission for, but you know you want to give it to him. 

“Ah,” he hums, sucks a drawn out open mouthed kiss to where his thumb used to reside. “You’re so fucking hospitable.”

A sharp sting rips into the side of your neck as Isagi’s teeth sink in. It is a familiar feeling, one you can never truly get used to but you love the magnetism of. After a few seconds the initial pain wears off—grows dull into a periodic throb. And as Isagi keeps sucking, pressing himself into you like he wishes he could simply crawl inside your skin, it begins to feel good. 

A pinched whine finds its way out of you and you don’t even try to stop it. You know better. Know that Isagi likes you to take over every single one of his senses when he gets like his. Wants you to immerse him fully. And you have no intentions within yourself to deny him of that pleasure. 

Your fingers thread tighter in his hair as he preens. The vibration against your throat is soothing in a riveting sort of way and you forgot how addicting it is—the high this brings for both of you. If done right and in moderation, the effects are limited, minimal. Maybe some drowsiness for a few minutes and then you’re through. 

But your lover is not known for his restraint. 

He takes too much and gives too little. It is fine and it is well but you always know that  he’s pushing his (your) limits when your grip begins to loosen and your moans become more frequent. You can never tell him to stop—you never want to when it feels so damn good—and tonight is no different. 

Especially not when you come to terms with the heat of Isagi’s palm drifting past the crease of your hip. Skimming underneath the hem of your faded t-shirt and pressing into the plush of your abdomen. Dipping lower, toying with your waistband, teasing you like he’s playing out a game strategy. 

“Yoi,” you drawl, let your head droop into his grasp just underneath your chin. “Yoichi, fuck—Please—“

Your request, whatever your cloudy mind was going to produce, does not get the chance to acclimate due to a bang on your front door. The vibration it causes has Isagi’s fangs jerking at you, pulling a wince from your lips before he has the chance to retract. He does, a second later, and lauves his tongue over the fresh bite mark that has joined the mirage he has already created. 

“Who is it?” He asks you, still cupping your droopy head in his hand. You mumble something incoherent and he presses you again. “Hey, who would be knocking at your door right now?”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. Getting your groggy brain to work right now is a monumental task, but as another bang thuds against the hardwood pressed against your back, you’re able to shake your head just clear enough to process one thought. 

“Oh, takeout,” you deduce. “I didn’t wanna cook, so I.. Here, I’ll get it. Can you grab my wallet off the couch?”

Isagi blinks right back, lids heavy, and swipes his tongue at the crimson smeared on his lips. He’s almost blood drunk. “You think you can stand?”

You nod your head even though you’re about seventy-five percent sure your knees are going to buckle out from underneath you the second he sets you back down on your own two feet. Sensing your apprehension, he takes it easy, keeping his hands on your hips until your swaying gets (semi) under control. He turns right after to retrieve what you told him and you open up the front door, painting on a nice grin in hopes that your delivery guy isn’t as angry as he sounds. 

But it isn’t a delivery guy at all. Rather, a man in a security uniform, who looks anything but pleased. 

“Uhm, can I help you?” You question, halfway leaning against the door to hold yourself up. You probably sound half high to hell right about now. 

“Sorry to bother you. I got a call from a concerned neighbor about a neighborhood disturbance to this address. Something about a strange man lurking on the front porch  and harassing the owner.”

“Oh,” you cinch up your eyebrows, tip your head to the side. Strange man? Harassment? You don’t think—

“Here’s your wallet,” Isagi announces as he finally makes it back to you. The second you feel him skid to a halt behind you, the dots clear up and connect in your foggy mind. 

“Strange man,” you equate, as you glance over your shoulder at him.

“What?”

“There seems to be a misunderstanding,” you dismiss as you turn your attention back to the man standing outside your door. “The man—this man—is my boyfriend. He is a little weird but he doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just an odd one.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean—“

“Ah, understood,” the security man nods, and you swear you can see a faint smile on his lips. “You know old neighbors, nothing better to do than stick their noses where they don’t belong. Again, sorry for the inconvenience. You two have a nice night.”

“You too,” you nod, send him a smile to be polite as he goes to walk away. 

Just as you’re starting to shut the door back he turns back around, “Oh, and you have a little something..”

His gesture to his neck has you slapping a hand over yours. You wince a second later—too tender, and too harsh—and pull your hand back to reveal tacky red coating it. By the time you look back up, the guard is gone. You shut the door and turn back to Isagi. 

“Oh no, don’t let the strange man get you,” he taunts, and you simply shove your hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

His tongue presses to it a second later, swiping at the blood and humming like he hasn’t an ounce of shame within his body. You let him as long as he pleases (not really having the energy within you to put up much of a fight now) and try to bite off the smile that toys at your lips as he grabs your wrist to tug you in closer again. 

“I don’t think I was finished.”

“Then pick back up where you left off,” you chuckle, letting it turn into a string of giggles as Isagi’s lips place feathery pecks around his claimant. 

He pushes your back against the door again, leans his weight into you and breathes you in. Allowing yourself to relax, you give in to his whim. His kisses turn languid and his grip tightens up. Your brace yourself for what is coming with an anticipated smile. 

But just as you feel cool breath fan against your fresh wound, another (much softer) bang rattles your back. Isagi lifts his head up to peer at you, meeting your gaze in an instant. 

“Takeout,” you both say in unison, one of your voices laced in amusement and the other in disdain. 

likes & reblogs appreciated : )

[kookieswan]

I remember when I first came across Red Light and instantly saw the Joker and Harley parallels but what I like is that MC doesn’t seem to have a overt obsession with Hoseok. She still feels like his psychiatrist to me.

If I remember correctly Joker doesn’t even kiss Harley before she goes FULL bat shit. He didn’t put any effort to courting her but gives her false promises and plays into her insecurities.

Hoseok does nun of that, if anything he’s actually acted upon his sentiments, even if they are a lil unorthodox but he showed up. Hoseok is the first to tell MC that she’s too good for this place and people.

Harley was a means to an end so Joker could get out of prison. Then when Harley wouldn’t fucking die cuz she’s honestly too crazy, he just keeps her around for when an expendable situation arises where he’s in the middle of it and needs to escape😭

But again Hoseok stops shit before MC can even get her shit rocked. (Good for my baby😭)

And MC has her head on straight. I even appreciate how much she’s in her head, contemplating how she should toe the line of her relationships.

This is your story to write, but unlike every other ask, I would like for her to remain fairly stable. Like I remember in Part 1 where she smiles at the beheading of a faculty member but coming to understand her character that seems more like a morally grey “that’s well deserved” smile rather than some sadistic killer “I no longer have ANY morals” expression.

Really I can see her becoming more comfortable (morally grey) with the killing of people but never doing it herself unless it was an ABSOLUTE last resort. And honestly Hoseok would have prolly dealt with it before it gets to that point. I would even say he wouldn’t want her to kill or her psyche to warp because that’s what attracted him to her in the first place.

At every turn he’s tried to keep her from being traumatized in his own way. To be honest if she was to become crazy it wouldn’t be for Hoseok’s affection or because of anything he did. It would be these damn people and she would finally say “Fuck it” for herself and the liberation of the nightmares. To her, she would be completely in the right for her actions. I can just see the news calling her crazy for her actions when from a social justice stand point I would call her very sane.

But hopefully that never happens as I think Hoseok and Dr. Kim are a pretty “good” support system (I’m saying this now especially because of Kim. We don’t really know him that well. He could surprise us.)

MC serves as the only light and kindness in that wretched place and Hoseok most certainly wouldn’t turn her, even if she asked (if that’s even possible. Can ya’ll just let the story play out?!😭 DAMN😐)

That’s my Ted Talk. And my petition for a MC to stay the same but maybe starts to see things more from Hoseok’s perspective which even he doesn’t seem without reason. Ya’ll really paint this man as a unhinged killer when he’s really calculated. And that’s actually the worse kind of killer😬 (Uh Candi, you sure you not a mercenary or sum shit cuz you a lil too realistic with the…👀😐)

I’m done fr this time🙃 Sorry for the essay, Candi🥺

Plymmie. Plym. You’re amazing.

Thank you SO MUCH for this honestly I’m teary eyed. It’s everything I’ve ever tried to convey in Red Light up to this point all written out beautifully. Just splendid. I haven’t had someone really explain their experience reading it like his and wow 🥹

I can’t say TOO much because plot points could possibly be given away but yes, I think it’s become clear at this rate that Hoseok isn’t actively trying to drive her insane. Every move he makes is for a reason and he doesn’t kill mindlessly. Likewise, MC is trying to hold onto her sanity and stay level headed. Not just for herself, but for her patients. She’s very interested in Hoseok, yeah, but she’s not obsessed to the point of being unhinged or even close to that tbh.

And a final point that you highlighted and I think is very important, every damn character in Red Light is morally gray. They’ll do things that seem kind and fair, they’ll do things that seem insane and horrible. It’s not black and white, it’s every damn shade in between. PLEASE remember that when reading and pondering their personalities and actions ♥️

(The I 🥹🥹🥹 Also please write more essays I love them so much 🤭🥹)

[scammydoesstuff]

So about that 'Blue Bloods' episode…

I recently saw something come across my dash regarding Alex Brightman’s guest appearance on the season 11 episode of 'Blue Bloods' (The Common Good) and it reignited the vehement response I had to the episode as a whole. And, since I have this blog now, I figured…fuck it. I need to rant about it.

So that's what this is.

Take what I say with a grain of salt, of course. This show is so clearly not for me and I acknowledge that, but I went to school for and got my degree in creative writing and so much of this episode pissed me off from a narrative perspective and I just really need to talk about it. Putting it under a Read More, though, so you can ignore me if you’d like while I rage to no one in particular. Apologies in advance if you choose to read on. I'm super long-winded. Luckily I don't have pictures and this is more of just a lot of text, so…it could be longer?

So, to begin, I’ll freely admit that I’d never seen an episode of 'Blue Bloods' before this and I’ve not watched it since. I mean, if the rest of the episodes are as badly written as this one, I have no interest to either, but I digress.

Overall my main problem with the episode was how desperately it avoided ‘showing’ over ‘telling’ and, as a visual medium, that’s kind’ve a big deal. We were told pretty much every detail that was presented to us. These people love to hear themselves talk, but do little to actually show things as they happen and I believe a part of that has to do with the focus of the show itself, which is definitely unique to this brand of television. By that, I just mean that it’s not the format I might’ve expected from a show like this. Most cop shows give a lot of focus to the cases, and the intrigue you get with the characters is how they apply their own skills and knowledge to solve them, with the hi-jinks they get into along the way being more of a bonus.

This is not that kind of show.

No, 'Blue Bloods' as a show is way more interested in the cops and their familial ties than it is about the actual job that they’re doing, as shown prominently with the political plot of this episode which was also very focused on the relationship between Tom Selleck’s character and his daughter and the wholly unrelated dinner scene where they talk about lent for 2 and a half minutes and acknowledge nothing else that happened in the episode. This show doesn’t care about the job of being a cop so much as it cares about the cops themselves.

Which would be fine if I gave a shit about cops, but I don’t.

You could argue that the mentor plot is the exception to that, but that entire situation had no real consequences for the cop in question, Jamie, abusing his power. It was entirely focused on how the situation affected him and how it was fine that he’d nudged this kid to get information which ultimately led to the arrest of Dion's brother, and Dion quitting the program. Hell, if Jamie had, in his final scene with Dion, owned up to his abuse of power and left the program — to then urge Dion to rejoin so that he can have that positive outlet in his life without him there — I would’ve been way more okay with it, but Jamie faces no consequences past ‘I don’t wanna see you anymore’, which I was never convinced he actually cared about in the slightest. There's nothing cathartic about it, it's just shitty and left me feeling frustrated at the lack of consequences for the cop.

But hey, you prolly don’t wanna read me going on and on about those parts. You prolly wanna know why I hate it despite Alex’s plot — which I fully expected to love because he’s perfect and gorgeous even when he’s playing a bad guy and he was just so adorable in his lil suit and they let him keep the scruff this time, and he was all handsome an— I need to stop. That could go on forever.

Anyway, to put it simply; it was bad, but I'll definitely explain why.

Now, I don’t think any of the guests in this episode necessarily did a bad job. They still acted well enough for what they were given. I just think they had a shit script that wasn’t interested in that story line. I mentioned at the top of this that this show cared more about telling than showing and that’s a huge problem when you want me to buy a character being the culprit in your murder plot. I need evidence, not anecdotes. Cuz, yeah, by the end of the episode, I didn’t buy for even a second that Ralph did it. And it’s not because he was played by Alex who is just charisma incarnate. I can believe him playing a bad guy. I also watched his 'Law & Order SVU' episode where he scared the shit outta me. He can play a creepy and violent character very well, he just wasn’t convincing to me as a bad guy in this show.

And here’s why!

First of all, he confessed at knife point. That confession would be thrown away IRL. It’s the same problem with using torture to get information. If a person’s life is threatened or they're being harmed in some way, they’ll usually say whatever it takes to get you to stop threatening them/causing them pain. Same deal here. You can’t convince me with a confession like that.

But they didn't seem to be interested in convincing anyone as far as I could tell. They just expected you to believe it because, ‘no, didn’t you hear? He said he did it, so he did it.’ They had so many opportunities to portray this character as the shitbag that we’re told he is. Hell, great way to really implicate him? Give him a female assistant that Donnie Wahlberg and his partner overhear / walk in on him berating for something small like getting him the wrong coffee or something. Then have them talk to that assistant later on and her mention some weird behavior from him on the night of Andrea’s death. It's cliché, but it's more than what we got.

Or you could have him talk to Meghan in a super condescending voice when he approaches her after her interview later on. Or, hell, have him refer to the murder victim in a condescending way even as he talks about her death. But no. The most we get out of him is that he's maybe a little snarky and smug when talking to the cops, but that’s not enough to convince me he’s a bad dude. Frankly, his producer buddy came off as more of an asshole, if I'm being honest. Just cuz (we’re told) his character did shitty things to her in the past doesn’t mean he’s still shitty. Show me he’s still shitty. I wanna see it and I know Alex is capable of a performance like that.

Second, it’s also just…obvious to make him the culprit if we're to believe everything we're told about him. He and Andrea are described as having had beef a little while before the murder with him being abusive mentally and physically. He’s known in the community to be a misogynist and an abusive person overall. He’s the obvious suspect, but if there’s anything that Scooby-Doo taught me, it’s that it’s never the most obvious person. Like, once in a blue moon, sure — but it’s rare.

So yeah, I don’t believe that Ralph did it. You wanna know who I do think did it?

Meghan.

Alright, so bear with me. This'll prolly sound a little conspiratorial, but hear me out:

She had the motive. She confirms in the beginning of the episode that she’s also a female gamer like the victim, but that she was ‘no Andrea’. Andrea was her competition. They were (supposedly) friends and stuck together as female gamers, but Andrea was still competition. With her out of the way, Meghan’s able to rise in the ranks, if even a little bit.

She had a scapegoat in Ralph — again, the obvious suspect given his tumultuous relationship with Andrea sometime prior — and an obvious grudge against men in their community in general. And, don’t get me wrong, men in gaming can and often are hella toxic — I’m not, in any way, denying that — but she got way more emotional when talking about the men in their community than when she was talking about her supposed friend lying dead in the adjoining room.

Speaking of the adjoining room, how did she not hear the murder happening? It couldn’t have been when she was down in the bar, cuz we see Ralph there too in the crappy CCTV footage that was supposed to show him being an asshole, I think (hard to really see). Was she just fucking around somewhere else when it happened? She doesn’t mention as much that I recall (correct me if I'm wrong on that, of course). And Andrea was strangled to death. I would assume that there would’ve been a struggle with that. Are you seriously telling me she wouldn’t hear that in her adjoining hotel room? Those walls aren’t that thick. I find that kinda hard to believe. And that she wouldn’t have found her till the next morning after that, also strikes me as a little odd.

Going off on some previous points, she shows very little grief over her friend’s death. Not just in the intro scene, either, but later on as well. (Side bar: that intro scene itself was very misleading. Don’t lead with a murder plot if it only takes up less than 10 minutes of the overall runtime, kay?) The show did a pretty bad job at indicating the passage of time, but it’s implied that the convention is still happening when Meghan gets the confession out of Ralph, so it would’ve had to have been the same weekend, or possibly the same week (though most conventions I’m aware of don’t last that long — it’s usually a weekend thing, at most Thursday-Sunday — but it could be similar to AGDQ, which seems to last about a week). So, if this is only a day or so later, why would someone who is supposedly grieving over their dead friend do interviews like nothing is wrong? Wouldn't you, like, reschedule or just politely decline and say you need time to process the shock? Like, when we cut to ol’ Donnie Wahlberg calling her after her interview, she doesn’t look upset — as I imagine she might if they’d likely asked her questions about Andrea / her feelings about the murder — and she seems cool as a cucumber when she asks Ralph to go somewhere private. In fact, the look on her face indicates pretty clearly that she’s planning to do something. Specifically, not that she's scared, that she's angry.

Finally, she’s the one who’s attacking Ralph when Donnie Wahlberg and company arrive on the scene. She doesn’t seem to have any marks on her indicating that he made any move to harm her (again, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember seeing her with any marks / cuts), but he’s got a clear, bleeding cut on his face. She attacked him first and was going in for the kill.

Or…was she? Cuz right before Donnie Wahlberg pulls her into that bear hug to stop her from the attack, she doesn’t do a great job of actually trying to kill Ralph. She was close enough that a quick dart at him would’ve probably been enough to at least injure him pretty significantly — maybe even fatally — and would’ve surely led the cops to pull them apart to secure him, but she kinda just hops around a bit and screams before lunging for him. That’s a really weird way to attack when you actually want to kill someone.

But, then again, I don’t necessarily think she did want to kill him. I’m convinced she wanted that confession, but that she also wanted him in jail and was playing the part of the super sad and hysterical victim who was just so overcome with her grief that she wasn’t in her right mind. I think that’s what they were going for in regards to her character in general, but it came across as less sincere in the performance and more like the character was putting on an act. They then cart Ralph off while comforting her — despite the fact that she disobeyed a direct order from police, which should lead to her being detained as well! — and that plot ends.

So, she gets what she wants in the end. A person she despises is now in police custody, her competition is out of the way, and the publicity she might get for bringing that ‘murderer’ to justice might eventually lead to her own career getting a nice boost. I dunno, it just strikes me as her having a great reason to have initiated this over Ralph just being a misogynist who 'was really trying to kill Meghan and just got the wrong girl'.

So yeah, with what the show presented to us, I believe Meghan’s the real killer. Again, if they’d done more to show me that Ralph was a bad dude or that she was more affected by her supposed friend’s death, or if they'd just given that plot more room to breathe to show those things, I might’ve been more inclined to buy the narrative they were pushing but…as is, I don’t believe it.

That’s pretty much all I wanted to say on the matter. I had a lot of issues with the domestic abuse plot line too, but they barely gave that 5 minutes of the overall runtime, so does it really matter in the long run? This is just…my thought process of the only part of the episode I watched for and how disappointing it was for me. And yes, I timed each section of the episode to figure out how much time was given to each of the 4 plots, plus the dinner scene at the end, but not counting the intro theme, and the murder plot got just over 8 minutes, of which Alex was on screen for half of that time. He got less than 5 minutes of screen time. It was definitely worth it just because he’s wonderful and I just like seeing him on these shows, but from a narrative standpoint, it felt pointless.

Okay, I’m done. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Unless y’all wanna talk about this some more, cuz I’m so down for that.

[willowbird]

E, F, L for the fic writing asks :)

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?

Ooh, I’m not sure what fic you mean, so I’mma pick one I’ve been thinking about writing a follow-up to anyway and that's “I Caught Fire”. If/when I can eventually return to that ‘verse I’d prolly go super-indulgent angstwise and kidnap Neil. *shrug* Why have mob-boss Andrew if I can’t taunt him into losing his shit by stealing his mouthy boyfriend who has a high likelihood of getting himself killed before the rescue party can arrive?

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From “Festive FEELINGS!”

"Ahh, never thought I'd get to be front seat again, this is great!" he said with a grin over at Andrew. "Guess I shoulda caught onto you and Neil back when you put him on the insurance policy, huh? Man do I feel stupid sometimes about that." He chuckled at his own expense.

"We were not together at that point," Andrew corrected with a shrug.

"Whoa wait, really? You put him on the Maz before you were even together? Damn Andrew you had it bad. And to think I thought it was just some weird dual-bodyguard thing you guys had about Kevin."

Andrew snorted but didn't look over at him. "No, that wasn't it either," he protested, and maybe it was because Nicky had already witnessed several very incriminating moments that absolutely gave away how deliriously, adorably gone his little cousin was over his boyfriend, but even Andrew kinda sounded like he didn't believe his own refusal.

"Uh-huh. Sure thing, cuz," Nicky mollified, expertly looking out the window at precisely the right moment to avoid Andrew's glare.

"No, I gave Neil the second key and put him on the policy because he's the one who paid for it."

Whoa. Wait. Hold the fucking phone. Whaaaaaaa!?!

Nicky almost pulled something with how fast he turned his head to be able to gape at Andrew. "Wait, what?! Repeat that because I am really sure I just misheard you right now. Did you just say that Neil paid for the Maz? This Maz? As in, the Maserati that we are currently sitting in right now? This beautiful example of Italian sexiness and machine finery? That Neil and this Maz?"

Andrew paused at a stoplight and leveled an unamused look at him that was all the confirmation Nicky needed.

"Andrew Joseph Minyard the boy BOUGHT you a CAR! Not only that. He bought you like The car. The one and only. Like. Like!!" Nicky gesticulated wildly, having no words for exactly how !!!! it was that Neil "I won't even spend money on clothes for myself I'd rather look like a dirty orphan hobo" Josten bought a fucking Maserati for a man who says they weren't even together at the time. Nicky suddenly felt a little bit better about missing the whole Andrew-and-Neil thing, if Andrew and Neil didn't even realize what the fuck was going on when they were buying fucking cars for each other.

"It wasn't like that," Andrew said with a sigh in the weakest attempt at protest Nicky had ever fucking heard. "I picked out the car. He just forked over the cash, since he seemed to think it was his fault the GT got trashed."

"Yeah, no. Andrew. Cousin. Friend. Bro. You don't just.. no homo buying a fucking car for someone."

I don’t consider myself very witty, or funny, in real life. But this whole little scene cracked me THE FUCK up while I was writing it. 

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Oh like .5. With the exception of the RBB that’s coming up, I usually skim the chapter/fic before posting it and that’s it. I’m far too impatient to give revision and edits the time they deserve. When I go back and reread like... weeks or months later I am usually utterly mortified and end up editing shit directly onto ao3 from my fucking phone, which is a nightmare. 

Writing Asks

[thattimdrakeguy]

ROBIN 80TH ANNIVERSARY - REVIEW!! - The GREAT, the okay, the meh, the wait what, and the freaking awful

None of the stories I’d consider bad in this besides the Super Sons one.

They have flaws, some don’t have any but aren’t that great, and just weird choices, with some disappointments.

I’m just gonna be honest about each story because that’s all I can do.

--

DICK GRAYSON’S FIRST STORY: Really freaking good.

My favorite story is probably the first one:

Like the art is the best in the whole issue, and the only real flaw is how mean they made Bruce through-out it.

It’s yet again another story of how and why Dick quit (I guess he didn’t get fired this time) being Robin, but it’s just nice. Nice pacing, timing, dialogue, good art, and because the people working on it are 80s writers and artists, it keeps it feeling classic.

Which is great for a little showing of the 80s world, and I’m no big 80s DC guy at all, but it’s a really nice flashback for that.

One thing that was disappointing but I won’t count as a flaw (since it’s really not, just a wasted opportunity) is that this kid didn’t end up being Tim:

It looks like a young Tim, it’s drawn by the first artist on Tim’s Robin ongoing, written by his creator, it’s about the history of Robin, and he’s an overeager Robin fanboy-- like why wasn’t this kid Tim? He even has that dorky bowlcut Tim had when he was little, just less 80s styled.

A missed opportunity honestly.

The story though shows Dick’s compassion, talent, frustrations as he became his own man, his views on Robin, some of his sense of humor even. So his characterization is pretty great, but it is written by the man that grew Dick his own unique character to begin with, and it’s great to see this story keeps it up. (Prolly gonna find out this is an old script, but hey, it’s a good one.)

A weird retcon story, but it’s a nice callback to the 80s, and I think it’s really well-done beyond Bruce being a controlling grumpy prick to the point it feels like parody.

--

DICK GRAYSON’S SECOND STORY: It’s just alright.

Where the first story is a flashback to the 80s, this is a direct flashback to he 90s, with the writer and artist that started his ongoing solo.

And it’s good. Like I had a lot of fun reading it, good heroics, feels of it’s era, but like the last story that’s the fun.

There’s nothing really to say about it besides it’s good. There isn’t anything too standout about it.

--

DICK GRAYSON’S THIRD STORY: It’s forgettable.

I forgot this was a thing in this, and it just feels like a waste of page.

It’s in no way bad that I seen, but it’s so very bland and one note. Titans fight and Dick acts as leader. Very generic.

The art’s really good though.

--

DICK GRAYSON’S FOURTH STORY: It’s better than that last one at least.

Unlike the last one, this feels like it at least has a point to be here, and it actually feels like it makes sense to be in he 80th anniversary as well.

I’m not a personal fan of the “Grayson” series, it just sexualized Dick too much honestly, made him cheesier again a bit, and the writing was a little on the off-side in a way that just made it all feel empty besides a few moments, but I never read the whole series to be a great judge on it.

But also because of that, I have no idea who these people are for this story to be grand. What makes it feel like it’s worthy of being here though is trying it back to the history of Robin like the first story with these little bits.

Without these moments though, you wouldn’t have a clue why this is there.

Also Dick just suddenly wears this:

Which is super duper off-putting. But Oh-ho gotta have sexy Dick in there somewhere I guess. Just-- wow, was that super sudden.

--

JASON TODD’S STORY: It’s good but this kid doesn’t look right.

The story is very simple and sweet, and I think it works a lot given Jason and Bruce’s complicated relationship.

It’s even written by Judd Winnick who did Under the Red Hood, which is awesome.

But who is this kid they keep calling Jason exactly? It irrationally bugs me, because all the art has been super spot on till this story. They even write him well, but it just genuinely doesn’t look like post-crisis Robin Jason.

Like to show what I mean--

You read it and this is how the kid speaks.

Super snarky,

a bit of a rude edge to it,

practical sounding but rough teen-ish still

yet still mature enough to feel like he can handle himself.

So you might place this around when Jason was 15 given he’s Robin, and when he was 15 and when they gave him a unique design finally away from a generic silver age Robin, he looked like a young body builder--

Like this is what Jason Todd looked like when they settled his look away from a Dick clone:

A young body builder type, strong jaw, working out, mature features for his age

So who the heck is this?

Like this isn’t what Jason looked like besides pre-crisis, but this is post-crisis Jason. They already settled what he looked like during that 80s run, and this isn’t it. He’s not supposed to look like a generic silver age Robin anymore.

Even beyond it not looking like what Jason’s supposed to, it doesn’t fit the dialogue. He’s written as a practical, snarky, yet in his own way still mature teen. Soooooo why’s he look 5?

It’s so off-putting and it bugs me.

However, beyond that, I really like the story, and at least the artist was good at drawing adult Jason.

Them representing Bruce’s and Jason’s complicate relationship of distant but still caring is something I really enjoy. It’s so much more true to character rather than acting like Jason is just a part of the family like nothing ever happened.

More of that dynamic for them, please.

--

TIM DRAKE’S FIRST STORY: It’s pretty good, but it’s missing something.

Not the highest praise ever, but I do like this story. I enjoy it’s setting at Tim’s school. High school was a constant setting for Tim’s comics in Robin, and they rarely ever treat it like that so I enjoy this story bringing it back.

I really enjoyed the connection  between extracurricular activities and what he does as Robin. It’s that blend of relatability and heroics that really made Tim work as a character. So that’s also great they brought back.

One of my favorite things that they bring up is Tim being into eSports, cuz it reminds me of how much Tim was into video games. It’s a very modern version of him being into the arcades in the 90s. Which is great.

However a downside is that it doesn’t really focus on Tim as a character like the other stories did with the other Robins.

Nothing about his never give up attitude, his insecurities, his underdog likability, how hard he is on himself, or things like that.

In-general this story says nothing about his personality besides a mention that he’s geeky. Which is a pretty big let-down because it keeps it from being any better, despite it already being good.

Freddie William’s art is also very hit or miss. It’s so crude sometimes, and Tim seems so buff compared to before in his actual Robin run. It’s very displeasing given that his early Tim work was top 5 Tim art material. However I still enjoyed that they brought him back even if he can’t draw Tim as well anymore. Tim’s still good in the babyface in most panels at least.

BUT-- this is still a pretty good Tim story. It’s just lacking.

Like it just should’ve been more about Tim as a character since it’s a Tim Drake story.

--

TIM DRAKE’S SECOND STORY: It’s honestly just pretentious.

Tim doesn’t talk like this. Tynion has a melodramatic tone to his characters that works great for characters like Batman, I’ve actually quite liked his Batman run so far partially because of that, but it doesn’t work for Tim.

This is not what Tim talks like. It’s so very unnatural sounding for a kid. Yet Tim talks in this incredibly dramatic tone except for a few light hearted spots, when I feel like it should be the opposite.

It’s also trying hard to be a character study, but again it’s so unnatural. It sounds like a fan describing their view of the characters, not the characters themselves. Like since have these guys became each others therapists?

And then he has Dick say these things that makes Tim seem like a Gary Stu and the greatest most talented guy ever.

Also having Tim hang out with Jason when Jason’s using guns even though Tim’s insanely against that sort of thing.

They even have Damian talk like a typical fan person who dislikes Tim based off of superficial things for a bit.

The fact it treats that Detective Comics Rebirth part of Tim’s character history as uber important is also a bit pretentious of the writer given he wrote that too. Despite Tim only being in that run for like three arcs and wasn’t even in-character for most of it.

Best part of it, is the vague acknowledgement that Tim didn’t want to be anything else but Robin to me.

Otherwise it just reeks of awkwardly written fan fiction.

Honorable mentions of quality though, is Dick and Tim being brothers train riding, and Damian’s mini-adult coming out. I’m so sick of them making Damian a generic kid sometimes that I actually liked this part even if it’s through a snarky filter.

--

STEPHANIE BROWN’S STORY: Better than expected, it’s actually pretty good.

I actually really liked this story. Overall I think Steph’s actual Robin run sucked, this is still a good story if I can get past the era it’s set in.

Unlike Tim’s stories, this actually uses her character.

How reckless she can be without it being super exaggerated, her attitude, love that they brought back the diary format for her inner-monologue too. 

There’s not much to say besides I’d actually consider this one of the best stories in the thing, except for the fact Steph clearly disobeys Batman and she was said to get fired for that. That’s a decent plot holes for me.

I super love the detail of Tim being so small that Steph can’t fit in his uniform. That cheered me up.

Them bringing back her Robin era artist was also great. Unlike Freddie Williams, their art actually really improved.

DAMIAN WAYNE’S FIRST STORY: The genuine worst story in it.

It’s so-- baaad.

Fan service can work if it’s in good quality. Like being in-character, or a nice homage. The train riding in Tynion’s story was that.

This isn’t that.

Damian and Jon didn’t get along right away, not even soon enough for this “mostly” part to feel right as a joke, because they obviously didn’t get along mostly right away. They fought a lot. They even show it on the full page them fighting, but they downplay how long they did fight just for fanservice. It took a long time, and even when they did it was still contrived.

Then they have Damian and Jon in the same class, when they aren’t the same age for that to make sense..

They even have Jon help Damian on his tests when it’s constantly shown that Damian is a brainiac who wouldn’t need that.

It’s literally even in the history summary at the end that he’s highly intelligent. So he probably wouldn’t even ever need a study partner considering he’s even said to have actual PHDs anyway. Which makes the study partner thing just plain out of character.

There’s also panels that straight up feels like oddly specific deviantart fetish art, which is so nasty. Especially considering that I know damn well that’s there’s pedophiles who make this same kind of oddly specific fetish art on there. So much so I had to stop using the site cuz of the anxiety it gave me.

And they downplay how mean Damian can be too Jon so much that it irks me.

This is the worst story in the whole comic, genuinely. Nothing good is in it, besides some decent enough art.

It’s certainly pandering to it’s fandom, but to certain parts it really shouldn’t be.

(This sort of stuff was still happening in their miniseries. Jon really shouldn’t want this as a brother. That’s stockholm syndrome.

--

DAMIAN WAYNE’S SECOND STORY: It’s better than the last one, but somethings missing still.

Unlike the last one avoiding talking about Damian’s actual character besides to play it down. This one actually uses it.

It’s just so quick, and empty feeling at the same time that it’s missing something. A bit like an inverse of Tim’s first story. Tim’s story had the setting and interesting story format, but no real character, while this has a lot of usage of the character but no interesting setting or story.

A lot of Damian’s character is that he’s not a natural Robin as far as attitude goes. He isn’t a typical Robin, and I enjoy how they play into that rather than be afraid of that. It’s what makes this actually work for me.

Although it makes you question why he’s still Robin, I consider that a good thing, because YOU SHOULD. You want the character’s to actually acknowledge things as if they’re real and not just ignoring things.

He’s not typical, he’s unique for better or worse. That’s Damian, and that’s what you should show of him.

This goes into why Damian’s the exact opposite of what a Robin normally is. That’s great.

But it’s missing anything memorable about it. However I think that’s cuz it leads into a future issue of Teen Titans which gives it a reasonable excuse.

I’m really hoping it leads into something.

Although i have a feeling they sadly might do the same thing as typical and ignore Damian’s actions more. Avoiding any genuine feelings.

--

OVERALL

It’s not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Only two stories I’d actually call bad, which is a lot less than I thought With just occasionally sloppy art, not even what I’d call back, but just crude or not drawing the character accurately which will annoy some more than others.

When I heard of this book I got so worried, but only two stories is actually almost relieving how little that is given the potential ego-driven things they could’ve done, which only those two stories then.

To me, I say it’s worth a pick-up, just rip out a story or two to keep it friendlier to revisit

Mostly was just really missing that extra heart in a lot of the stories.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Reeve’s birthday + mini character profile!

Hey People of Earth!

So it’s become a bit of a trend to use my characters’ birthdays as an excuse to post mini character profiles for them, ha, so here we are again with another one! I’ve written this in advance (on the 12th) because I’ll be at a Current Joys concert for most of the 13th (her actual birthday). Hope you enjoy getting to know the MC of the FOSTERED books. (who I strangely don’t talk about nearly enough lol)

This is her:

This is also her (both by @sarahkelsiwrites):

This is Reeve’s aesthetic that I just whipped up lol:

Name: Reeve Aldaine

Age: 15-19 over the courses of books 1-6

Nicknames and from who: I think she was only ever called Evie by her older sister who isn’t in the books for very long.

Favourite restaurant: East Side Mario’s according to @sarahkelsiwrites (or Five Guys) lol

Favourite candy: Sour skittles or wine gums (according to @sarahkelsiwrites)

Favourite type of cake: Vanilla

Favourite hobby: Being salty for no apparent reason, being that toxic (TM) friend who lowkey knows it but if u bring it up is like whut no how am I toxic

Favourite colour: Purple

MBTI type: ISFP

Favourite cereal: Mini wheats

Favourite breakfast food in general: Crepes

If she had a job in real life, what would it be: Anything in retail (Sarah says at a perfume counter) because she’s rather adaptable and not picky though I think she’d really enjoy being a barista, lol. 

Favourite thing to do: Reeve loves salting about other people. She isn’t an outwardly bitchy person, per se, but she likes toying with potential scenarios of what people could be thinking of her and why. She isn’t a particularly creative person, so she doesn't have any sort of concrete hobby, for example, but if there’s salt involved, she’s down. 

Does she like The Strokes or does she not like The Strokes: Yaaaaassss join the clubbbb (her fave song would probably be You Only Live Once).

Her actual aesthetic: Looking out a gloomy window while it’s raining, chipped black nail polish, the smell of rain on pine trees, the subsequent smell of the sap, maple syrup in clear, labelless bottles (so weirdly specific but truu), sprigs of dried lavender

If she was a gum flavour: Juicy fruit cuz she got all dat riiiipe juicy teaaaaa

Would she write books: No, ha. Although her voice itself is hella poetic. 

If she were a donut flavour: Sprinkles 4 dayz

If she were a beverage: Coca Cola in those vintage coke glasses or a glass of wine

If she had a favourite band: Daughter, but she’s also definitely into rock further along the alternative spectrum (and Whitney. Whitney for dayz).

Songs that remind me of her: 

(I would say all of Daughter but to specify)

- The End by Daughter

specifically these lyrics

They say there's something in my house That I should just get out, get out I don't want to be escaping No, I'm too busy moping around I'm too busy moping around I'm too busy moping around I'm too busy moping around I'm too busy moping around

- Smother by Daughter

I should go now quietly For my bones have found a place to lie down and sleep Where all my layers can become reeds All my limbs can become trees All my children can become me What a mess I leave To follow

- Shallows by Daughter

Let it all rain down From the blood stained clouds. Come out, come out, to the sea my love... And just Drown with me

- New Ways by Daughter

Washed out brain I have a dirty mind Oh, I need, I need new ways To waste my time I need new ways

- Numbers by Daughter

Chemically enlaced faces Black out nights and tight spaces We'll feel distant embraces Scratching hands 'round my waist, yeah I'll wash my mouth but still taste you

- Made of Stone by Daughter

What if I'm made of stone? Feeling is not a system Nervous I'm caught in a hold Hoping I'm over thinking I should be feeling more Draped over your bones Paint colours up the walls To spread our inspirations You are the likely cause Of what will be my demise

- A Hole in the Earth by Daughter

It's like an old ruin Your father's a liar while my father's lying down In a hole in the earth there And I'm scared I'll forget him I'm still haunted by those open wounds I won't express them truly to you

Likes: 

- Sitting in front of fireplaces + the sound of crackling wood

- The smell of smoke

- Rain

- Skipping rocks (she’s also v/ good at this)

- Melancholically reminiscing about her childhood

- Anything purple

- Swing-style rock

- @sarahkelsiwrites says Corn Pops

Some other stuff: 

Reeve out of all my characters, has probably had the most major character flip in terms of her arc. I’ve described her before on here as poetically existential, and I think that’s personally an excellent way to describe her. In the initial stages of the series, she was quite pessimistic, but there was very much still a tangible spring in her. She’s never been particularly warm, but as the series progresses, namely from book four onward, this becomes much clearer. Her morals (especially in book six) also take a turn in what I’d basically describe as moral decline. She’s had a bit of ‘anti-character-development’, by which I mean she’s sort of progressed backwards (and most likely will continue to). Because of this, she reads incredibly ambiguously, and in a lot of ways, like the antagonist of the story, due to her extreme perceptions of people in both her judgements, and interactions with them. (Thus she’d probably rub the reader as unlikable.) She’s a very direct person, who doesn’t quite understand her moral faults, but simultaneously exploits them. So for example, she might know she’s being judgemental, but not quite understand why (or why that’s not a good thing) and continue to impose that on others. 

She’s a very turbulent, negative person, mostly towards the latter half of the series. Whilst she’s always had these issues (such as jealousy and pettiness), they’ve almost been under the surface kind of issues. It’s kind of funny to think of it now, but @sarahkelsiwrites, and @imdisappointed (and myself) have always pointed out Reeve’s unlikable characteristics from the beginning. I always thought this was because I was doing something wrong, and only realized when writing book six, that these characteristics are actually a part of her character, making her incredibly morally grey (and sometimes, morally wrong). Because of this, the narration (since it is first person) often reads morally grey as well. She’ll often state something she doesn’t believe in as if she does believe it, which oftentimes feeds into her constant inner conflict. 

She’s a very critical person, to the point of being overtly so, and thus, will overstep her boundaries in judging you if she feels you’ve either wronged her, or wronged someone she cares about. Though, she doesn’t vocalize these opinions, they almost reach the point of vulgarity through the narrative as they’re rehashed for the reader. 

She also harbours a lot of self-deprecation, and blames herself a lottttt for many a things, namely the various complications within her family, even if she couldn’t necessarily fix these things. She’s a fixer by heart, and not being able to patch up holes continuously bothers her. I’d describe her as self-loathing. I wouldn’t say she hates herself, I just think she hates the pawn of herself (sort of the persona she puts on), and hates what that person let her become. 

Ha, all of this was uber negative, but that isn’t all there is to her! She’s also an intensely emotional person (which can lead to baaare melodramaaaaa), so this really allows her to connect with other people on a really deep level. She doesn’t trust easily, due to her various traumas, but if she does trust you, you’ll feel it. She cares intensely about people (which can sometimes be a bad thing), but will try her hardest to be a supportive friend. So she does have a lot of stuff bogging her down a lot of the times, but will remain by your side (and hopefully not make the situation about her oops). 

I mentioned this before, but she’s also a very distant narrator. It’s sometimes hard to achieve this especially in the scenes I need her to be even more distant in (hence so many clarity issues haaaaha), so I’ve toyed around a bit with form in her POV. Some bits of these books are in verse, some in second person, and some in third. She is a first-person narrator, but I do enjoy experimenting a bit (especially in dissociative scenes). She’ll also insert herself into other characters’ situations (almost like pseudo dissociation lol) a lot, and go through possible events they may have gone through.

I think her development is the main reason these books went from YA to vaguely adult maybe, because she’s definitely gone down a viciously explicit emotional path (which I didn’t actually plan for, but am happy about). So yeah. Lots of things go on in her head, and I think she really does need a lot of time to dispel all of it, but she’s getting there. 

So that’s it for now! I haven’t really done an extensive profile for Reeve, even though I talk about her a lot, so hopefully this helps in getting to know her a bit better!

Thanks for reading!

--Rachel

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

17: Humility

Recognition. The good kind, John clarified. It was a nice feeling. After all, John Bishop Church was used to recognition that came from a place of infamy. It’s something he had barely addressed and maybe was poorly equipped to. But an unspoken bond between two entirely different people had determined that it wasn’t necessary. That he didn’t owe them anything on that account. The exhilaration subsided for him rather quickly. Going into the new year, there were still many unanswered questions. And a nasty taste in his mouth from the realization of just what awaited him. The festivities inside the Microsoft Theater had ended long ago. The audience, the celebrities, and most of their fellow professionals had departed. Either for more celebration or quiet reflection. John’s jacket was draped over the back of his chair. His bow tie was loosened and dangling over the front of the buttoned up shirt. The physical representations of their two Honors sat in the middle of the round table amongst the dishes of a lavish dinner. His partner dozed softly with her face buried in the crook of her elbow. As a small remainder went through the process of tearing down the set of the show - John looked at his watch. There was time still. Whenever Mike was close, that fear of being the focus of attention, of having to speak outside of the confines of a private conversation, went away. There even was some confidence in it. John, for the most part, let Mike’s emotions flare for the both of them. But he wasn’t concerned about Dominic’s inflammatory statements that were meant to provoke a response. There was something beyond that. He had carefully framed himself in the camera's lens. This is about you. I figure you would like that. He looked directly at the camera. Look at you. Mr. Rumble in the Bronx. Mr. Sole Survivor. Mr. Pay-Pay-View. Rookie of the Year. Undisputed Champion. Nothing can take those accolades away from you. Twenty years in the business and you’ve finally done what you’ve always set out to do. You’re on top now. John shrugged. And believe me, I wouldn’t belong in this business if I didn’t have those same aspirations. But understand that what you have is not what I desire in this upcoming match. With his elbows on the table, he learned forward - hands clasped. Dominic Sanders. All of this time you think that you pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. And my partner? Well, some of you may find this funny, but in the time that I’ve known her, she has taught me to try and find the good in people. To not get dragged down in any of the negative vibes they put off. And I tried with you. You made it impossible. The betrayal of Mike’s friendship didn’t help. But this won’t come to a surprise but I never considered you as a friend. He chuckled at that notion. Not that it matters. You clearly don’t value that. You prefer the company of sycophants and people that you can use for your benefit. As long as you’re on top it doesn’t matter if they get trampled underneath. Another value you don’t possess is honesty. We all lie. Sometimes to spare harm to others. Something I didn’t understand until recently. But every word that comes out of your mouth is a half truth or outright lie. You let Griffin Hawkins win. Considering his reign as International Champion is more memorable than yours ever was - I highly doubt the credibility of that. The truth is that you had this ill conceived idea that you had his number. And he called your bluff. And I’m not one to get into semantics but of course you would be proud of a disqualification victory over Mike and I. Spare us your back-handed compliments. He looked over at Mike just off camera. She had walloped Rob Garcia with a cane that Lazarus had introduced into the bout. At that point, the match itself was pointless. But I’m not telling you anything new. And I get you. You’ll try to frame yourself as the good guy in this. Using past tragedy as the catalyst to all of this. Calling us terrorists through your subservients. You don’t get it, though. You don’t get to be the good guy after all of you’ve done. You’ve spent the last few months vomiting the same vile misogynistic tripe about Candy as your predecessors did. You orchestrated an attempt to end our careers. All because we don’t fit into your vision of the company. Your reasoning paints your brand of villainy as trite as they come. And so you try to come off as this disadvantaged veteran who has finally overcome every bit adversity put before him. But in reality, you’ve just succumbed to the lowest common denominator of human nature. He cracked his knuckles one by one. And so that brings us to this opportunity. You see, your friends broke my partner’s hand. And maybe a title defense two weeks ago wasn’t the best idea. NSFW will be back shortly. But in the meantime, it’s just you and I. I know you don’t think much of me. Trust me, the feeling is mutual. I do relish the idea of being able to test my mettle against a champion of your caliber. He looked to the pair of awards on the table. But Mike and I? We haven’t done so bad ourselves. And Dominic, we both share a commonality in Television Championship reigns. Except yours was brief and uneventful. He tapped a finger against his chin as if to ponder something - a showing of snark he had adopted from McGuire. Maybe this current one will be, too. John smirked - trying his best to emulate his opponent’s obnoxious grin. But don’t worry. That’s not what I’m after. You had to keep lying. You couldn’t be truthful for once. You couldn’t just say that you wanted the power, glory, and fame that came from winning the Undisputed Championship. You stood on that stage... The camera turned to the now broken down Honors stage. Only the podium remained. And with a straight face said that there are some people who don’t appreciate the way you view things. You gave that aw, shucks generic diatribe about how this place is finally coming together. You’re full of shit. Back onto him. He stood away from the table now. Mike was still off camera by design. That’s exactly what I was talking about. You spread that false humility like a plague. You’re like a sociopath trying to pretend to play house. It’s painfully obvious. He looked at his watch one more time - mindful of the time for some ulterior reason. That’s what this upcoming match will be about, Dominic. On paper, it doesn’t matter if I win or lose. Dominic, with all of your achievements, a victory over me should be a mere formality. And you and I, we could have went down the same path. In an impossible feat, I would love to have the experience that you do - but I cherish what I have now. What I’ve learned in the past year has instilled a confidence that taking out a formidable but arrogant opponent isn’t infeasible. Not talking about hypotheticals. When you and I meet face to face in that squared circle, I am going to give you receipts for all of your transgressions. My critics have written me off as diminutive and meek. Those very critics are long gone. Or might as well be for all they manage. All it takes is three seconds. Or if you ask many of my past opponents - about nine seconds before the blood flow to their brain is cut off. But for you? I’m capable of so much more. John reached out for the cellphone. I’ll show you. And he clicked it off the feed. Mike’s phone buzzed. John placed a hand on Mike’s hand. Shaking it gently. Ride’s here. They stirred slowly, one hand reaching up to rub at their eyes. Their cheeks were a little flushed still, the earmarks of maybe two or three visits to the open bar too many. Mmm… what time’zit? Just after 1. Show’s been over for awhile. After our last presentation, you just put your head down. He extended a hand to them. Been a long day. Don’t blame you. He looked at the eight empty champagne glasses. Maybe those. Maybe, yeah. Lil’ too much’a the bubbly stuff. They reached for the offered hand, grabbing it on the second attempt and gingerly getting to their feet. Kinda jelly, y’know. Wishit was me kick’n Saunder’s ass but this’for the best. Y’better at wrestlin’ proper than me. With his subtle assistance, the two gathered up their jackets and belongings and began their exit from the venue. John’s reply was distant. He shouldn’t expect proper. Good. He don’t deserve proper. He deserves whatever you give’m and prolly more cuz you’re a good guy. Best guy. Thanks. With one hand, he deftly texted the awaiting driver that the delay would be worth their time. Navigating the chairs and tables had proven to be an obstacle course with the zig zag nature of their path. You are, too. He paused in contemplation. You know what I mean. I let Candy know we would be retiring for the night. Aw fucknuggets, I forgot th’ cookies I made her. Mph. Anyways...‘m a lil’ drunk’n sleepy right now but if’n y’wanna tomorrow we could do a thing for your match. Really let ‘im have it. John and Mike made it through one of the side exits where the unknowing driver waited for them. Already taken care of. He looked at Mike. They were about to say something but even with a careful pace led by Church, they looked a little green in the gills. The driver, a young man in his 20s, opened the back passenger door for the two. You don’t happen to have a plastic bag in there by chance? Uh, no. That’s a weird euphemism, but don’ worry, I’ve been keep’n one in my suitcase for months now. Mike’s cheeks puffed a bit, followed by a gulp and a rather wretched expression. ...or maybe’s not a good night f’that. Raincheck. John reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a crisp one hundred dollar bill. He passed it to the driver. For your discretion. One benjamin to get fucked. John insisted by placing it in the young man’s palm. Please.

[theworstbob]

yellin’ at songs, week forty

oops

brief considerations of the songs which debuted on billboard on 10.11.1997, 10.13.2007, and 10.14.2017

10.11.1997

1) "Candle in the Wind 1997/Something in the Way You Look Tonight," by Elton John

princess diana seemed like a nice person and i don't agree that it is good that she passed on. i think she should have continued to live, and finally, i found a song that agrees with my worldview.

44) "Too Gone, Too Long," by En Vogue

So real talk this is late because one week I saw two Post Malone songs and I said fuck it because, like, it's, and I just, I don't think it's fair when older generations yell at younger generations? But the average '90s R&B track was infinitely better than the average '10s anything. You could drive down the street bumping the radio and a song like this, with that small miracle that happens around the 3:00 mark, and this would be like the seventh-best song you'd hear. Kids these days are just listening to songs that don't make any stabs at greatness, they just exist in a way that doesn't motivate you to change the station. The problem is with the children. I'm not actually talking about this song, I'm talking about the way people consume music. This song is heckin' great and everyone should listen to it 20 times and then try to get through a Post Malone song.

58) "Heaven," by Nu Flavor

In this overly intense '90s R&B slo jamz, the R&B boys plead to God to convince this woman to fuck them. That sentence is the last thing I wrote for YAS before taking a weeks-long sabbatical and I'm glad I found it.

63) "Love Gets Me Every Time," by Shania Twain

Where do we rank Shania Twain in the diva pantheon? Like, this is a song with a hook I recognized when I heard it, after 20 years of just not thinking about this song I heard "dolgurn gone and done it" and was like "oh yeah! This jam!" and not all singers can dig that deep into your memory, but in terms of historical import, where does she rank? You can't really argue that "country needs a rep in the pantheon" because um hello? Dolly? but there's at least four Shania songs that are absolutely legendary. Does that merit inclusion among the greats? Or is Shania just on that second tier with a Kelly Clarkson or a Carrie Underwood, reliable but not as powerful as the women we'll tell our grandkids about?

65) "Electric Barbarella," by Duran Duran

One of the things that struck me as odd about the film Sing Street was the reverence with which the film treated Duran Duran. I always sort of thought Duran Duran was a boy band, but there was a film set in the heyday of Duran Duran's popularity, with a scene where an older brother extols the virtues of Duran Duran's musicianship to a younger brother, and I'm just like, "I never would have guessed this band was at the vanguard of new wave?" But I guess maybe they were a less dark Depeche Mode and I should check this out because this song from 1997 probably isn't indicative of peak Duran Duran? Hello welcome back to YAS I'm already asking questions to no one instead of offering criticism, it's like I never left.

70) "They Like it Slow," by H-Town

Sometimes, when you abandon a project for a while and come back, you notice things about the thing you're doing that you never would have noticed if you had worked on it in the last two months. To that end: I just realized all the 1997 and prolly most of the 2007 music videos were shot in 4:3. Like, when they filmed these music videos, they were composing shots with the idea they would be on TVs. That's kind of interesting! Like, when you go to film school, you probably have the idea you're gonna direct films, so having to compose shots for a smaller aspect ratio probably fucks you up a little bit. Anyway, I can't tell if this '90s R&B slo jamz is a parody or not.

87) "A Smile Like Yours," by Natalie Cole

"I have seen the bluest skies/Rainbows that would make you cry." It's absolutely amazing which lines in these songs gain significance from 20 years of events. Like, that line about rainbows takes on a whole new meaning now that we've all enjoyed and then forgot about the Double Rainbow video.

91) "Alright," by Jamiroquai

groovy! i’m okay with this! this is like what all the calvin harris songs would sound like if they were good.

92) "Spin Spin Sugar," by Sneaker Pimps

there's so much cool stuff happening in this song and i really just wanna sit down and get to know this band a lot more because they've always seemed like something i was supposed to like and now i realize that i do actually like them, unfortunately WE'RE LISTENING TO 100 SONGS TONIGHT GOODBYE GOOD SONG I WILL KEEP THIS MEMORY WARM IN MY HEART UNTIL THE END OF TIME

10.13.2007

58) "Tattoo," Jordin Sparks

This is a song that just barely missed the lyric video trend. If any song needed to have words appearing on random actors' skin, it was this one, it would have been such a no-brainer decision. Like, you do it right, hire some calligraphers and tell them to take it up a thousand notches, you have a classic lyric video. Wasn't e'er to be, though. Just a standard music video, and I guess a nice song? It's very2007. It's very the sort of song you'd give to the winner of a forgettable Idol season. "Oh, that? Uh, yeah, keep it. It's either going on this album or in that trash can, might as well use every part of the buffalo that is my brain."

80) "The Way I Am," Ingrid Michaelson

this is the sonic version of a scarf worn indoors in june

86) "Our Song," Tay Tay

"Our song is a slammin' screen door." Did you know Tay Tay's dad was an investment banker? I have reason to believe Tay Tay's only seen a screen door in movies. I dunno. Do rich people have screen doors? I've never been in a mansion, but I don't think screen doors would be appropriate for mansions.

91) "Shoulda Let You Go," Keyshia Cole intro./Amina

I like how Billboard gave Amina an "introducing" credit. You don't see that in music nowadays. Now it's just "hey this 17-year-old has a million plays on Soundcloud, what do you mean you 'haven't heard of him,' he's already been responsible for thirteen memes and they're all dead, we're actually over him already, he's lame now." It is now known that Amina was actually a woman who was okay at rapping. The point still stands, I'd at least like to know that the randos on these songs are people no one but the people who made this song know.

96) "Hypnotized," Piles ft./Akon

"I know she wet 'cuz she told me." I don't know why, but this line tickles me! "Piles, you got me so wet." "YO, SHE'S WET! I MADE HER WET, GUYS!" "You touch mine and I touch yours." Piles must be hypnotized because in my (admittedly limited) experience with his work he doesn't seem like a man who gives head. He seems like a man who needs to be coerced into reciprocating pleasure.

97) "Nothin' Better to Do," LeAnn Rimes

OK so real talk, while I was listening to this song I got distracted because I realized I hadn't updated my Poke Bank subscription in like a year and I have so many precious little babies I need to keep forever, and you know what? This is a fun song. I didn't really need to pay attention to it! It's a song about being naughty that keeps it PG enough to play on country radio, and I wouldn't mind bumping into it again!

100) "Fake It," Seether

So Amy Lee and the dude from Seether broke up. After the break-up, Evanescence hit first with "Call Me When You're Sober," which isn't a particularly devastating song, but the title is incredibly unsubtle, and, like, Seether's a shitty post-grunge band, of course he's an alcoholic, and Amy Lee is right to say "yo I'm kinda done with this, I don't like dealing with the drunk you." Seether strikes back by saying Amy Lee is a liar and that he "feels so raped," and Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm gonna go ahead and say that's #problematic! Amy Lee made a dumb but fair song about how she was out of patience, and here comes Donald Trump by way of Creed to say "YOU ARE RAPING ME WITH THIS BREAK-UP." Like, I'm gonna go ahead and say that the part using rape metaphors to describe their feelings is the one in the wrong in this mediation.

10.14.2017

65) "I Fall Apart," by Post Malone 100) "Go Flex," by Post Malone

i could have spent eight minutes sitting perfectly still listening to ambient noise and have had the same emotional reaction. "never caught a feeling this hard/harder than the liquor i pour." oh fuck off already.

70) "Good Old Days," by Macklemore ft./Kesha

FINALLY. The pop music gods have heard my prayers: Macklemore rapping about nostalgia. Everything I love, in one delightful package! ...He shouts out Minnesota and this is probably gonna end up being the best song from this week because of that and also because this week is lookin' pretty horrible.

94) "Losing Sleep," by Chris Young

OK so real talk during this bro country joint I got distracted because I was looking at new music releases and APPARENTLY THERE'S AN ANIMATED MOVIE BASED ON "ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU?" IT WAS MADE THIS YEAR? THIS YEAR. YOU CAN BUY IT ON DVD TODAY AND OWN IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR FUCKING LIFE. I'm sorry. I'm not going to bother processing whatever bullshit this song is about, sex I guess, because THIS WORLD IS CAPABLE OF SO MUCH MORE. This is a movie. This is also a movie which presupposes that this entire time "All I Want for Christmas Is You" is about a puppy that Mariah Carey needed for a... charity fashion show? "Great! We're short one girl with a dog!" "Oh..." This is a cinematic masterpiece and my life is better for having stumbled across it. This and Pokemon Christmas Bash.

95) "Like I Loved You," by Brett Young

So the writer of Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas Is You is one Temple Mathews, who has also written The Little Mermaid II, Peter Pan II, and 101 Dalmatians 2. That is a fucking nuts credit roll, Temple. Dude also goes multiple years between projects, which suggests to me he's like someone at Disney's cousin, and every couple years that person at Disney goes "hey, Temple, wanna make $100,000?" and Temple says "fuck yeah bro" and Temple just lives off that. He makes smart investments and lives in a cabin in Montana and has never actually seen a movie because why would you look at pictures when you've got mountains in your backyard? Temple is living the best life. Dude's my hero. He has someone describe a cartoon to him and writes something based off that and never has to write a second draft.

97) "Round Here Buzz," by Eric Church

Listen, if Eric Church is gonna give us repeats of songs he's done before, at least he's giving us repeats of "Give Me Back My Hometown." It's a slower, sadder version of that song, one that can't be misconstrued as an "I'm poor AND PROUD OF IT!" anthem, this is a song that can only be about a dude thinking about a girl living a life without him while he lives a life with her ghost, but also "Give Me Back My Hometown" is more fun? I dunno, this still prolly gets 2017 SOTY, I've just heard it before. Also, Eric Church? Welcome to the Decade Dance Club. You are the 36th member, and the tenth white male country artist.

98) "Plain Jane," by A$AP Ferg

ok nvm this is song of the week, simply because in the first verse Ferg raised and lowered the volume of his voice. this song went somewhere! this song actually did something! it didn't just bleep and bloop for three minutes or be about how it's nice when things are good, Ferg had things he wanted to say and delivered his lines with actual emotions! he did the bare goddamn minimum, and by 2017 standards, that's pretty good! i'm actually going to remember this song a little bit!

Who won the week?

1997. Like, of course 1997 won. It had Sneaker Pimps and Shania, if 1997 lost to these other wack-ass years it would’ve been stunning.

Standings: 1997: 15 2007: 12 2017: 13 oh god all the songs for the next edition look awful, welp